What Keeps Writers Going

Several years ago there were parts of my life I felt embarrassed about. You might be surprised to learn that one of those things was how much I loved reading. Ideas were always bubbling up, but instead of embracing that, I often felt like I needed to tone it down. There is a particular feeling when you bring up a book you loved and watch someone’s eyes glaze over because they never even picked up the first one you mentioned. After enough moments like that, it starts to feel like maybe you will never find friends who want to soar over ideas the way you long for.

But three years ago my circle of friendships widened. Suddenly there was someone else who was just as lit up about reading and unafraid to share what they were learning. Seeing someone else carry that kind of confidence was one of the little markers in my life that got the wheels turning in my mind, that maybe, just maybe, I did not need to shrink what lit me up.

I got this little idea: what if I had the courage to take some of the stories I had made and turn them into a book? I began researching everything I could get my hands on. I read book after book about writing well (see this post if you want some of my favorite resources). I learned about self publishing, dove deep into Canva, started assembling my work into actual books, and almost as an aside created this Substack.

What I did not understand at the time was that learning to write was only half the journey. The other half was learning to be seen. It is one thing to create quietly in your own corner. It is another to press publish and allow your work to stand in the light. Skill can be developed in isolation. Courage almost never is.

So how do we stop shrinking the very things that make us come alive? How do we learn to share what we love without apologizing for it? The answer, at least in part, is that we stop trying to go it alone and begin embracing encouragement, both giving and receiving it.

Encouragement does not usually start with us. God often uses ordinary encouragement to keep people from quitting. A thoughtful comment. A timely message. A simple “me too.” These moments can mark the difference between stepping back and continuing bravely. Most writers are not lacking talent. They are lacking reinforcement. Many of us can trace our growth back to a single moment when someone saw us clearly and said, keep going.

Before we become generous encouragers, we have to see what it looks like. Eight months ago, Paul Christopher stumbled across one of my posts, restacked it, and invited others into the conversation. I was startled by the sudden engagement. It felt vulnerable to see my work circulating beyond the small circle I had grown comfortable with. But Paul did not stop there. He continued to publicly affirm my writing, and that became a turning point in my confidence.

At face value, what he did was simple. He shared a post. He wrote an encouraging note. Yet in a culture where encouragement can be sparse, seeing someone lift another person up without calculating what they might gain changes you. It gives you permission to do the same. Paul did not simply amplify my work. He modeled a way of being here. And moments like that are often what keep writers going.

When I began asking others about their own journeys, I realized that some version of this story shows up again and again. So I invited a handful of writers to reflect on their own turning points. What follows is a simple Q&A built around four questions, offering shared experience and shared wisdom. After that, I will turn to the practical side of it all and outline how to find your people and actually plug in.

Let’s begin.

Rachel G. Vick: This question couldn’t be more perfect for my own writing journey! It’s only been just over a year since I felt God directing me to begin sharing my writing more publicly. I didn’t even know what Substack was at that point! Around the same time, He began bringing other writers into my life—just by happenstance. One, through a chance encounter at a coffeeshop; another from a transaction at the pharmacy—and so on. We even took a roadtrip to a writers’ conference together just a couple months into our friendship (maybe a tad crazy—but I survived.) Now, we get together to write at coffeeshops, giving each other feedback and just being a quiet presence while we exercise our creative skills and write with Jesus. To be honest, I don’t think I would have made it this far in my writing journey without my writing community—both in person and here on Substack. I remember sitting at a table in Chic-Fil-A with Liz Collard Arnold—my boys playing on the playground—creating our Substack profiles together, helping one another through the process—that’s community at its best.

The Girl Journeying: I used to think writing was something you did alone. Just you, your thoughts, and maybe a quiet corner where no one could interrupt the wrestling in your heart. But the moment I began sharing my stories publicly, especially the vulnerable ones, everything changed. I remember posting a deeply personal reflection in one of my letters. I didn’t expect much. It was just me being honest. But then the messages came. “Wow… I thought I was the only one.” “This feels like you wrote my journal.” “Thank you for saying what I couldn’t.” That was the moment I realized writing doesn’t just grow in silence. It grows in echo. In the shared “me too.” In the DMs. In the community that forms around honesty. Connection didn’t just change my creative journey. It refined it. It made me braver. More intentional. More honest. And that shift changed everything for me.

She’s So Scripture: I’ve been blogging since 2018, and for a long time my writing life felt very siloed. I was putting words out into the world, hitting publish, and then… waiting. Occasionally an email would come in, or a comment would pop up, and those moments were encouraging, but they felt brief and scattered. Writing was meaningful and I had the views, but it often felt like I was doing it alone. That changed when I discovered Substack. What surprised me wasn’t just the platform, but the way conversation naturally formed around the writing. Readers replied directly. Other writers engaged thoughtfully. Ideas were exchanged in real time. Writing stopped feeling like a one-way broadcast and started feeling like a shared table. Something about blogging always felt “competitive” but now having such a great community of writers and readers, it feels collaborative.

Mandy Morris: I did not come into this space looking for community. I came to write, assuming the task was private and that whatever value the work held would be carried by the words themselves. That changed through repeated ordinary interactions. Someone took time to respond with their heart. A conversation continued over several exchanges. I found myself recognizing names, then voices, then habits of thought, and over time those exchanges became genuine friendships formed through the work itself. The writing was no longer leaving my desk and disappearing, it was being met by others. That experience altered how I approached writing. I became more attentive, more exact, because I knew it would be read by other people I had come to know rather than an indistinct audience. The presence of others did not distract from my work, it required me to take it more seriously and to treat it as an ongoing exchange rather than a finished statement.

Grant Herbel: I’ve been writing online in some form for about ten years. Throughout that time, it’s been largely one-sided blogging. I write something, hit publish, and try to get clicks. But after coming to Substack, I’ve found just how powerful it is to feel part of a community. I resonate deeply with what Mandy said--interacting with people I see nearly every day is much more rewarding than publishing into the void. It has taken my own perspective on writing from “optimizing” to engaging with real people with real struggles and blessings and unique experiences. In that way, it’s almost a collaborative process.

Hey Creative Sister: It was ten years ago this month that I decided to dip my toes into sharing my heart with the world and started blogging. I have always been someone who shares freely, and I wanted to tell others what Jesus had done for me. A testimony has a way of building faith. When you hear what God has done for someone else, it reminds you that He can do it for you as well. Seven years into that journey, my writing took on a deeper meaning. I was diagnosed with late stage cancer, and it felt like everything around me collapsed. In that season of pain and uncertainty, writing became more than a creative outlet. It became a place of refuge. Putting my heart into words helped steady my soul. What began as sharing my testimony with others became a lifeline for my own heart. What surprised me most was how community met me there. As I shared, others reached back with their own stories, prayers, and encouragement. Writing no longer felt like speaking into the void. It felt like sitting across the table from sisters in Christ who understood. I realized then that writing grows best in community. It is not just about sharing truth. It is about carrying one another through it.

Griffin Gooch: To help ease some anxiety before putting up some posts that could be considered controversial (they weren’t actually controversial, but, you know: Christians online can take a lot to be controversial), I started asking some friends I met on Substack to peer-review my posts. Not only did having a second set of eyes on my posts make them better, but it also led to genuine friendships. People can’t exist in a vacuum, and neither should our creativity.

Chris McKinney: Honestly, Substack was the unexpected space that changed everything for me. I was deeply skeptical in the beginning that anything I wrote would be valuable. So skeptical, in fact, that I didn’t tell anyone I was writing. I just quietly published and assumed no one would notice. But people did. They responded, shared my work, and told me how specific words met them in real moments. What I thought would be solitary became communal. I found people walking the same road, encouraging one another along the way. That connection changed how I saw writing. It wasn’t just expression anymore. It became a shared experience.

The Girl Journeying: One of the most common questions I hear from writers entering this space is simple but heavy: “How do I get people to see my writing?” Underneath that question is something deeper. They’re not just asking about algorithms. They’re asking about visibility. About validation. About whether their voice matters at all. A lot of writers struggle with the fear of obscurity. They think: “If no one reads this, does it even count?” “If it doesn’t go viral, is it good?” “Am I behind?” Being seen is beautiful. But being felt is deeper. Sometimes your writing isn’t meant to be loud. It’s meant to be intimate. To reach the one person who needed that exact sentence at 11:47 PM.

Mandy Morris: The concern I hear most often is not about technique but about how to take part. Many writers are unsure how to enter without seeming intrusive, how to share without appearing self-promotional, or how to participate without matching the pace they see around them. I think this creates a pressure that has little to do with writing and much to do with uncertainty about belonging. What they are usually looking for is a way to engage at a manageable pace. I often suggest spending time reading first, focusing on a few writers rather than trying to follow everything, and responding only when they have something they actually want to say. When taking this approach the pressure begins to ease. Participation becomes less about keeping up and more about showing up consistently with attention, which leads to exchanges that feel more natural and lasting.

Grant Herbel: I think with any new-ish platform, there is a flood of advice on how to fully exploit that platform. To be sure, there is a lot to learn and myriad ways to tweak settings and structure content in ways that can help reach more people. But as Christians I think we’d rather not exploit, but cultivate. So then the question often boils down to: how do I grow without wanting to grow? And as someone who has experienced that very question, the answer is simply to flip the equation around. Let visibility, structure, content, the platform itself, be tools to elevate Christ. Thinking of it like that, growth is a good thing. It’s just not our source of validation. And in that there is immense freedom.

Hey Creative Sister: One of the most common struggles I see is that many women genuinely want to study the Bible, but they simply do not know how. They are told to read Scripture, to spend time in the Word, to go deeper. Yet no one really shows them what that looks like in a practical way. I love digging into God’s Word. I love making lists, noticing patterns, asking questions of the text, and tracing themes. But I have realized that what feels natural and life giving to me feels overwhelming to many others. It reminds me of when I was a little girl and my mom would tell me to clean my room. I would move things around and try my best, but I felt defeated because I did not really know how to approach the task. The instruction was clear, but the process was not. Bible reading can feel the same way. We are told to read it, but rarely shown how to study it with confidence and clarity. What I see most is a longing for guidance. Women want depth. They want to understand what they are reading. They want to feel confident opening their Bible on their own. What they often misunderstand is that Bible study is not reserved for the academically trained or the spiritually elite. It is for every believer. That is why I love creating simple, creative resources that break it down step by step. I want my readers to move from overwhelmed to equipped, from confused to confident, and from passive reading to active, joyful study.

Griffin Gooch: I usually hear that people are struggling to “take off” on this platform. Essentially, that they’re not making as much traction as they’d hoped for. It’s one of the toughest things to talk about, because it can feel kind of sad and alienating to see other people’s posts resonate with hundreds of other people, while you’re languishing with just sending out your posts to your wife and mom (which was me for my first three posts). But the best advice I’ve had for these people is to just try to build community more than platform. It seems kind of silly, but it’s true. If you’re more interested in gaining followers than friends and creative partners, then your time on this platform will be a bit miserable. But if you focus on community, you’ll enjoy the platform and build an audience at the same time.

Chris McKinney: Many writers misunderstand that silence means failure. But often, it just means people are watching quietly. Reading. Being shaped. Not everyone responds right away. The introduction of Substack Notes helped change that for many of us. It created new pathways for connection. Suddenly, readers who would have never found your work began encountering it naturally. Conversations started forming around ideas, not just finished posts. What most writers long for isn’t just growth. It’s confirmation that their words matter. That they aren’t alone. That what they carry is reaching someone. Early silence isn’t the end of the story. It’s usually the beginning of finding your people.

The Girl Journeying: I used to think collaboration had to start with confidence. Like you needed the perfect pitch. The perfect introduction. The perfect reason to reach out. But what I’ve learned is that collaboration begins with sincerity. Instead of saying, “Hey, let’s collaborate,” I’ve found it more natural to say, “I really appreciated how you explained this.” Or “This perspective stayed with me. I’d love to explore something together if you’re open.” It moves the interaction from transaction to connection. You’re not interrupting someone’s work, you’re potentially expanding it. A practical tip? Be specific about: What you admire, What you envision and Why it makes sense. And keep it simple. No long essays. No over-explaining. No apologizing for existing. Just clear. Respectful. Honest.

Grant Herbel: What I’ve found is that the people I want to collaborate with, I’ve already interacted with several times. That may be in article comments, on the Notes feed, Chat, or whatever. In other words, they don’t feel like a cold email asking for something. So many times, when you engage with people, collaboration just feels like a natural next step. With that background, just ask, like you would a friend.

Hey Creative Sister: When it comes to collaboration, I think many mistake it as an opportunity as self promotion. I truly believe that the goal of Christian collaboration should not be based upon self aggrandizement but simple encouragement. When you approach someone, it should flow from a shared mission, not personal gain. The heart posture matters more than the strategy. Readers can see right through motives. We should never come across as shady, like a used car salesman or ambulance chaser looking only to gain. If your goal is exposure, the invitation can feel forced. If your goal is service, it feels natural. You are not asking, “How can this grow my platform?” You are asking, “How can we serve our readers well together?” That is key. When collaboration flows from shared purpose, there is freedom. No pressure. No striving. Just two people stewarding their gifts side by side for the Kingdom.

Rachel G. Vick: I haven’t done much collaboration yet. But I plan to, especially with Substackers who write on similar themes. I think when you find yourself mutually and consistently liking, restacking, engaging with the same writers over and over again—those are your people! Get together and make something beautiful in community. I think it’s rare that someone would say “no” to an invitation to collaborate. After all, the ask just says, “I see you, I like what you have to say and how you say it, and I think you’re so great that I want to be associated with you.” In fact, I brought up the idea of collaboration with one of my people just the other day! It’d been on my mind for a while, and the invite blossomed naturally out of a conversation about how aligned our messages are and how we’re grateful for each others’ presence, what each other adds to this space. And guess what—she said yes! So stay tuned to see what @Lynn Ferreira and I are cooking up!

Griffin Gooch: If you find someone who thinks like you, I’d just tell them. That’s how I made most of my friends here so far. It’s much less awkward than you might think. Start with a compliment. We’re all writers. We’re desperate for those. After a compliment, ask them if they’d ever want to work together.

Chris McKinney: In short, just ask. At some point, you realize you have very little to lose. I’ve reached out through simple DMs, sometimes asking for recommendations or collaboration. Most people responded with surprising generosity. Some didn’t, and that’s fine. Not everyone will connect with you, and not everyone will say yes. But the ones who do can change your trajectory. The biggest shift is realizing that everyone is just a person on the other side of the screen. When you approach people with sincerity, most are far more open than you expect.

The Girl Journeying: Yes. I’ve had to recalibrate. Not because I stopped loving writing but because I started confusing faithfulness with constant output. There was a season where I felt subtle pressure to always have something to say. To stay visible. To stay consistent. To stay relevant. But writing, especially the kind rooted in healing, faith, and honest reflection cannot be rushed without cost. I noticed the shift when my writing began to feel performative instead of prayerful. What recalibrated me most was returning to why I started. I didn’t begin writing to keep up with a platform. I began writing to hold space. To make meaning. To serve. Practical advice I’d offer someone navigating that tension? 1) Audit your “why” regularly. If your motivation has shifted from purpose to pressure, pause. 2) Build rhythms, not streaks. Sustainable creativity isn’t about never missing, it’s about never abandoning yourself. 3) Protect your interior life. The depth of your writing will only be as healthy as the soul producing it.

Mandy Morris: I did run into burnout early because I tried to answer everything. I would open up substack intending to check one or two things and find myself still there much later, trying to respond to every comment and read every post so that no one felt ignored. It was well meant, but it quickly became unworkable. My attention became scattered, and my own writing time was being pushed aside. Eventually, I had to make a practical change. I began setting aside short, defined periods during the day to read and respond, and when the time ended I left it alone. More recently I have had to accept that I will not be able to respond to everyone. This space has become a real community to me, and I have made many friends here, so there is still a sense of guilt when I miss something, but that boundary is necessary if I want to keep writing at all. I am still learning,

Grant Herbel: Yes, for sure. I tend to work in cycles: rapid output for a couple of weeks, followed by exhaustion. It took some years for me to even identify that. On Substack, I have occasionally felt that same unhealthy rhythm resurface. For me, it’s a matter of returning to the source. To stop trying to build more buckets and simply rest at the well. What’s nice about Substack is that I haven’t felt penalized by the system for not publishing for that week, or delaying a few days. That’s part of what is so nice about the community I’ve found--everyone is very supportive, because they’re like me. My practical advice, then, is to learn to recognize your motivations, which can shift day-to-day. Don’t overanalyze (that has its own risks), but acknowledge that, and bring it to God in prayer. Take some time to recalibrate in the secret place. It may feel like it when you’re burned out, but it is never wasted time.

Hey Creative Sister: I have had to regroup and reorient more than once. In my Multiple Myeloma recovery, I have had to pull back and truly learn my limits. Rest has become a constant theme in my life since my diagnosis. It is not optional. It is necessary as I heal. I am very active in my church, so I have to continually remind myself that God Himself ordained rest in Genesis 1 and that Psalm 23 shows us a Shepherd who makes us lie down. As believers, we forget that rest is okay. Rest is needed. Rest is trust. Rest should never make us feel guilty. What helped me recalibrate was accepting that obedience in this season looks different. My advice to others is simple. Honor your limits. Honor rest before burnout forces it. Trust that stepping back does not mean stepping out of your calling.

Rachel G. Vick: I’ve had phases with Substack where the pressure to read, engage, respond, interact, and produce has been overwhelming and too consuming. It’s a challenge to keep my heart in the right place—to be okay with slow growth even while you see others rising quickly, to choose authentic, real connection over shallow “sub for subs.” I have two thoughts to offer: first, prioritize quality over quantity. Choose genuine connections—“kindred spirits,” as I like to say—over far-reaching growth that has no substance—it’s the real connections that will engage meaningfully with your writing anyway. Two, it has helped me to set a rhythm. I’m a full-time mom, part-time employed—all while trying to light the fire under my writing. So, in this season, I need a rhythm that’s consistent but not overwhelming: one note a day, one message on my subscriber chat each week, one post a week, one morning to read other writers and share their work. Your rhythm might be different—and in other seasons, mine will be too—but it helps to have parameters for yourself to stay consistent but to not lose yourself in it.

Griffin Gooch: Most of the time, I hit a wall because I’m trying to do too much. Too many notes or posts or such. The best way to recharge is to simply remember that no one is waiting on your every online movement. Take a break. There’s no timeline on when you have to post stuff. If you’re burnt out, spend time with embodied community and just have fun. I try to make sure that when I post, I’m doing it more so out of a sense of enjoyment or curiosity than duty.

Chris McKinney: In the beginning, I started two Substacks. I was ambitious. I would write for one and then have no energy left for the other. Eventually, I made the decision to scale back and commit to one post per week to see if I could sustain that pace. That was a few years ago. Since then, I’ve added Notes a few times a week, but I’m still constantly asking, “What is healthy in this season?” The desire to grow is always there, but growth can’t come at the expense of sustainability. I’ve also wrestled with the tension between writing for the algorithm and writing what I feel led to write. What I’ve settled on is this. If I’m genuinely helping people, the algorithm will eventually notice. That doesn’t mean I ignore research. I pay close attention to what people are dealing with so I can speak into real struggles and point them to Christ. Being a pastor gives me a front-row seat to what people are walking through, and that shapes everything I write.

Recalibration moments are simply the nature of life, change, and growth. As you move forward in any pursuit, whether writing, ministry, influence, or parenting, your time begins to shift. Slowly, the very thing you loved at the beginning, sitting across from someone, listening well, praying without hurry, can begin to feel squeezed.

It is a strange irony. You build something because you love its heart. Then growth brings new demands. The goal is not to avoid growth. The goal is to build growth around the life you want to keep, growth that serves connection rather than replacing it.

And part of protecting that heart is removing unnecessary confusion.

I keep hearing the same questions: Please just explain to me how Substack works. How do I find my people? How do I find them? Who can see my work? How do I share my work? How do I invite others in?

If growth can pull us outward, clarity helps steady us. Hopefully by this point you see how organic relational growth really is, and how much it is built on giving and receiving encouragement. At its heart, that is what writing and friendship are about. Finding like minds. Starting new relationships.

A saying I have always loved is, if you do not have friends, borrow mine. That can be true here. So rather than answering these questions one by one, I am building something simple. A way to organize our community so you can quickly see where to plug in, who to follow, and where deeper conversation and collaboration are already happening.

Instead of leaving this abstract, I built something practical: a simple structure that makes it easier to find your people and reduce the guesswork.

Right now, some natural cohorts I see emerging are:

Faith + Formation – Theology, Jesus-first reflections, Biblical study, Everyday discipleship, Faith in motion

Church Leadership + Ministry – Pastors, Elders, Ministry leaders, Sermon writers, Church planters, Staff teams

Family + Home Life – Marriage, Parenting, Motherhood, Fatherhood, Family discipleship, Education

Care + Inner Life – Counseling, Grief, Healing, Health

Children’s Books / Kidlit – Picture books, Early readers, Middle grade, Faith-based children’s resources

Poetry – Devotional poetry, Literary poetry, Spoken word, Short-form reflection

Each category title links to its own cohort page. On that page, you’ll find shared challenges specific to that lane, simple collaboration ideas, a growing list of writers, and a copy-and-paste tag bank for easy connection.

This began as a way to simplify my own process, but it has grown into something that can serve all of us. Click the cohort that fits you and comment a one-sentence description of what you’re currently working on. If your writing spans multiple categories, post in each relevant thread.

The goal is clarity — less scrolling, more alignment, and a quicker way to see who is writing what.

Across all of these stories, one thing is clear: you do not have to do this alone.

Writers keep going when they are seen, when they are encouraged, and when they find a few places where their words are received with care. That is what I want this community to be.

So here is my simple invitation. Find your cohort, drop your one-sentence description in the thread, and choose two or three people to begin engaging with consistently this month. Read their work. Leave a real comment. Restack what you genuinely love. Start a conversation that is not rushed. Small actions like that are how community forms, and community is what sustains the long road.

I’m thankful you’re writing here, and I’m cheering you on as you find your people and keep going.

I write about prayer, becoming more whole in Christ, everyday discipleship, and family life. Alongside essays, you’ll also find free kid’s Bible studies, and a living conversation about Substack and Community. Outside of Substack, I also create speech-sound story quests, whimsical allegories, and early-reader adventure stories for families.

At the heart of it all is a story of God bringing me from darkness to light, so I can’t help but write about hope, transformation, grace, and the reality that no person is too far gone for God to reach. More than anything, my passion is sharing Jesus with my whole heart.

You can generally expect to hear from me every other Tuesday at 7:07am, with occasional bonus posts and resources sprinkled in when time and life allow.

I also occasionally host Virtual Substack meetups for thoughtful conversation, and encouragement. Sign up here if you’d like to hear about future gatherings as dates open up.

And for those wanting to dive deeper into Substack and community, here’s the full series:

Part 1 — Notes
Part 2 — Restacks
Part 3 — Subscribers, Recommendations, Bios, Posting Rhythm, Paid Subscriptions
Part 4 — Collaborations, Subscriber Chat, Direct Messages
Part 5 — Attention, Boundaries, Inner Life
Part 6 — Encouragement, Collaboration, Community Directories
Part 7 — Metrics, Platforms
Part 8 — Creativity in the Age of AI
Part 9 — Marketing, Visual Media
Part 10 — Comparison, Mental Health, Sleep
Part 11 — Coaching, Editing, Peer Review
Bonus: Practical Substack How To’s
Bonus: Community Directories — Find Your People

I would love it if you filled out this anonymoussurvey to share your questions, frustrations, and all the “wait… nobody told me that” parts of Substack.

I would love it if you filled out this anonymous survey to share your real questions, frustrations, and all the “wait… nobody told me that” parts of Substack.