finding the literature vol. 9

spotlighting Substack-posted fiction

Whenever you start adding a lot of Notes to a post it quickly gets too long for email. View this in your web browser for best reading.

Welcome to finding the literature!

It’s been a while since I did one of these. The last was back in March, and a lot has changed since then, both on Substack and Persona Non Propria.

With PNP, I went through the process of creating and releasing a physical edition of my novel, an upmarket bildungsroman called the big T.

You can either buy it here for straight-up $20 OR preferably become a paid annual subscriber for $30 here and I’ll send you a code to get it for free at checkout. The latter obviously comes with the dumb little badge Substack gives you to show you make them money. It also comes with whatever paid stuff I put up on here in the near future.

Meanwhile, the Substack fiction space has seen a big shift—as the platform has grown, it seems there has been a relative boom in competitions, aggregation ‘stacks, and—most of all—lit mags.

(As I talked about here, here, here, and here.)

I sort of predicted this would happen. Which begs the question, at least in my mind: why not start my own Substack based lit mag? Why not just take all the work I do for these finding the literature posts and transpose it into running my own simple little lit mag with submissions and whatever?

It certainly seems like I’d maybe make more money that way, depending on how I structured it.

As with everything else I get hung up about, the work, accountability, and responsibility involved would paralyze me.¹

The main reason I can do round-ups like this and dedicate myself to Substack fiction advocacy is because I genuinely enjoy doing so. It’s not a job, it’s a privilege. Instead of scrolling on Reddit or watching a sitcom I’ve seen already, every day I set aside time to read my saved Substack fiction posts, and my life is better for it.

And I wish that for you all as well. I’m here to help make it a little easier.

I’d like to point out I’m not the only person who does this kind of thing.

Erica Drayton

with Top in Fiction,

Derek James Kritzberg

with his Dread Reviews,

Vinny Reads

doing Vinny Reads, and Anne-Marie Hubert scouting the real fiction, and many more.

I’m particularly intrigued by the newer FicStack from

Gary Mucklow

and how that is going to end up.

finding the literature is not a rival or competitor to these ‘stacks, which is a good thing, because they kick my ass. I’m just someone who likes reading fiction posted to Substack.

With the folks I’m featuring in this volume, it’s amazing I haven’t already featured them. Over the many months since March, it feels like they’ve become familiar on my feed, posting great stuff and reading others and overall becoming part of a beautiful Substack fiction landscape.

Apparently, though, I’ve been reading and recommending far more than I thought over these past 7 months—I went through ALL of my Notes since then, and besides realizing what a narcissistic shit-poster I can be, I discovered no less than 30 OTHER writers of varying levels vouched for in my feed.

Not to mention what’s in my TBR fiction pile, where I’m sure there’s more greatness lurking! (REMEMBER TO USE THE SAVE BUTTON TO READ MORE FICTION ON SUBSTACK).

So if you’re disappointed I didn’t include you here, know that including Notes in a Substack post very quickly makes the post too long for email, so I try to keep it to 5 features per post.

This just means I am going to probably post one of these for a few weeks in a row and if I’ve mentioned you on Notes before, hopefully you’ll show up later.

Without further ado—here’s vol. 9—

I have to be honest here and admit a bias because

Ricardo José Romeu

is one of my biggest readers on Substack. But I think anyone can see he’s a fiction talent on his own. He’s got big ideas, big dreams, and is someone who clearly writes with their whole heart.

Ricardo experiments with some of his form and stories; for instance, he recently posted an epic poem he typed up on a typewriter—and I loved it.

He does share themes with me, I think. Take this surreal story, for example, diving into male loneliness. And this flash fiction about boyhood fights.

I think he’s had some really interesting thoughts on Substack fiction and is very much a compatriot in my views on that front. He also does author interviews, so very worth subscribing to even if fiction isn’t your thing, something he has in common with another of the writers in this post.

I think

nico durán

and I come from the same thematic literary corner, where you notice the little things and make even the benign significant in an unrelenting and unapologetic way, nostalgia and sentimentality hitting home.

Sometimes I honestly feel like Nico is sort of a younger me. I see a lot of similarities in the writing. There’s an icy simplicity in it. If we are going by their pfp, they even have a mustache.

I hear they are also maybe a conspirator on one of those new lit mags I mentioned, simplistically, appropriately, and beautifully called: drunks. So if you like their stuff, maybe check out that publication.

JLG Noga

, in contrast to Ricardo and maybe Nico, is a good example of someone who is not like me, in all the best ways. We don’t seem to have similar taste. We don’t seem to have similar ideals about literature. That’s okay though because they’re someone for whom ‘pulverizes’ is the right word. Their prose puts you into submission because it’s just too damn good.

So when he goes and writes something like the above (or below), it really inspires me. It makes me mad. It makes me want to step outside my comfort zone and write, write, WRITE.

At this juncture, I have to say, I believe all three of the featured thus far are younger than me, maybe even far younger than me.

Are you KIDDING me? This is the talent they all have, at such an age? I hope they remember me when they’re uber-successful.

Brock Eldon

grips me with his prose. I mean, just look at this excerpt! He’s one of those writers who you can tell puts care into every sentence. Kinda Chabon-esque. A beer can’t just be cracked open; it also has to convey something for the story.

He’s going places, for sure, and I’m just glad to be here where it all began.

One of my favorite things to do on Substack is connect disparate fiction writers with other fiction writers who they might never have found or know about, who I think might be somewhat kindred souls. I felt that with Nathan Slake (who has appeared in FTL before) and Brock.

Brock is someone who is perhaps just as well known for his reviews and cultural writings, like many Substack fiction writers are. I haven’t read as much of that side of his stuff, but I do know he has a discerning eye, so if he praises your writing on Notes, take it to heart.

To ease the appearance of quid pro quo, I’ll have you know Brock does not know I’m sending this out this email endorsement of his work, but he was a very enthusiastic and astute early reader of my novel and maybe has something to say about it in the near future.

Another big reader of mine, I’m particularly fond of

Elizabeth Lamont

and the wise, cool-professor-who-gives-it-to-you-straight vibe she has brought to the Substack fiction party. She writes romance like no one (except for maybe me) but sometimes I feel like even I could learn something from her well-studied examinations of male-female dynamics.

I particularly liked her recent three-part series, Dark Times City, about a publisher in crime-ridden NYC during the 70s blackout. She makes NYC palatable to me by going back to when it was grimy.

And she is a master of dialogue. I cannot stress this enough. A MASTER. If you are scratching your head over your own dialogue, read and study hers.

When Liz has something to say on the ‘stack, listen.

Okay, that’s all of the more obvious ones since March out of the way. There’s still a whole lot more in the backlog for me to let you all know about. Hopefully I get to it next week.

I’ll leave you with this:

1. Also why I have a hard time submitting to these lit mags. Publishing is a damned interruption—J.D. Salinger.