Mr. Troy Ford writes fiction and thought salads composed of equal parts nervous laughter and breathless resolve at FORD KNOWS. He is currently publishing his LGBTQ+ serial fiction, Lamb, and working on Qstack, a newsletter and directory highlighting queer Substack writers. You’ll find him on the Gold Coast of Spain in Sitges, Europe’s answer to Fire Island, probably slathered in sunscreen and walking on the paseo by the beach with his husband and Amstaff Terrier, Bubba.
1. Why Substack?
When I started querying agents for my first novel, Watrspout, I read that having an author’s platform shows you are already engaging with readers through a website, social media, maybe a newsletter, and will be able to promote the book on your own, not depend on your publisher to do all of it. Particularly when traditional publishers are no longer devoting marketing money unless the author is already well-known, or until after a book has proven a surprise hit, it’s crucial (“they” say) for an author to do that heavy lifting early on (as if writing the thing weren’t the biggest part of the job.) No more the days when publishers vetted, edited, and promoted for you—we now pay agents, editors, and marketers out of pocket for our perfectly polished work just to get noticed. Because they can, because it’s good for their bottom line, because the competition is fierce, publishers have foisted much of the process back onto the shoulders of writers, especially new ones, who are eager to do whatever it takes to breathe life into their work.
Fair enough. I realized pretty quickly that my author website and static little blog were just going to sit there in the dark of the ether unless there was something driving traffic to them, and then I noticed Twitter had a newsletter platform called Revue connected directly to your Twitter profile. I started “Troy Ford’s Bon Mots” and had some fun with it, even started getting a few eyeballs. Six months later, Elon Musk shut down Revue, and someone mentioned Substack. I revamped as “FORD KNOWS”—my sarcastic nod to a line from Orwell’s Brave New World, in which Henry Ford the carmaker and industrialist has become the new God of the people—and here we are.
2. How long did it take you to find your groove?
One year, two months and counting. Publishing episodes of my serial novel, Lamb, every other week has made things easier—the “What should I write about?” question has been cut in half for a while.
3. How has it changed you?
I had writer’s block for over 30 years—I wrote about that in “Don’t Be a Jodie”—in part over an absolute terror of being judged, but the Substack ecosystem has been incredibly kind and supportive. Almost too kind, some say—it is not a writing group for criticism—and frankly, there’s not nearly enough emotional support for fledgling writers. You must keep writing as much as possible to get better, but if you are shamed into paralysis by callous reactions from people who should know better, that’s never going to happen. The generosity of readers and other writers on Substack, as well as a weekly deadline, has enabled me to abandon my fear and regain my enthusiasm for writing. And there’s always writing classes and editors for the measure of criticism we all still need to keep us grounded and striving to write better.
4. What mistakes have you made?
Not sure. Nothing’s come back to bite me so far. I did break Substack a few months back when I was trying to run a pledge drive before I went paid. I thought you could do special offers for people who were pledging—I even tested it with a dummy subscription—turns out, no, it only works for actual paid subscriptions, so people were clicking a 40% Off offer but forced to pledge at full price, and I was mortified. And then trying to fix the problem created even more issues until Substack Help (begrudgingly) stepped in, and I still ended up deciding to scrap all of the pledges people had made and starting from scratch.
5. To pay or not to pay?
I haven’t had a job since we moved to Spain in 2019—long story, not today—and once I realized that I might never make enough money to live on writing alone, I decided I better start generating multiple streams of income. I was lucky that my first job out of college was in financial services and saving for retirement early set me on a good trajectory. While finding my way toward the only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do—write—I’ve turned on paid subscriptions for Ford Knows, and I'm planning a paid-only series later this year tentatively called "The Road to Published. I’m also doing some editing and proofreading on the side (open to more!) and looking for part-time work as a virtual Girl Friday for anyone in the publishing industry who I can trick, badger, or blackmail into hiring me.
6. What artistic and technical choices have you made?
Artistic? I use a lot of silly GIFs in my posts—they give that whiff of lunacy always winking under the surface. Love a good sprinkling of emojis, too—I’d be lost without them.
Technically: I decided early on I wasn’t interested in offering writing advice, there are so many people with far more experience, and I’m still learning as I go.
I have an aversion to posting too often, or posts longer than a 10-minute read. I’m keenly aware that people’s time and attention are a gift, and there are a lot of us vying for them. It’s a job keeping up with reading other people’s posts—I really do try to read every one, and just a few days of inattention can turn into a mountain of catch up. So—10 minutes or less, and I have stuck to my Every Friday posting schedule for over 60 weeks.
Also, when I started publishing Lamb, I added the LGBTQ+ label to my bio, which I had previously not called out specifically even though I’ve made no bones about being gay. I know of at least one unsubscriber as a result of that decision, and I’ve had a few homophobic trolls.
7. What’s been the effect on your writing?
Substack has turned on a light for many of us. The path from “Once upon a time” to “Congratulations Published Author” is so mysterious and fearsome that many lose their way. It always has been—is still— a Who You Know game, and if you don’t know anyone in the business, “No” over and over again can be crushing. A “Yes” on your first go is unrealistic, but when the reality of what it takes to get published is murky, all that rejection begins to look objective regardless of how many agents say, “It’s not you, it’s me—acceptance is subjective.” Knowing that someone, anyone, finds your writing moving, funny, or beautiful can make all the difference—Substack is the long-form lifeline where new writers can start to feel seen in a way that traditional social media’s assembly line never accomplished. I’ve found a home here, and the courage to publish my work and let other people have their reactions.
With Lamb, I’m experimenting with voice and form—in short stories written by the character, journal entries and letters, as well as a prose poem and other experimental pieces. I’d also never written in first-person before because I found the frame of it limiting, but telling Lamb’s story through the eyes of the unnamed narrator has opened up a whole new dimension of storytelling for me.
Since Lamb was conceived as a Substack project, there’s been no uncertainty about its fate with regard to gatekeeping, and that’s also revealed a path forward. My plan is to finish the episodes I’ve already mapped, and then self-publish it with new material, including a novelette length piece ostensibly written by Lamb the character. Sweet as he is, he’s got a more raw and edgy voice than I’m using for the narrator, so I’m looking forward to playing with that.
8. In it for the long haul?
I hope so—as long as the brain cells keep firing. Que sera, sera.
“The whiff of lunacy.” We all need a little of that to get by. I, too, came to Substack after being told that having an audience would be necessary to land an agent for a book proposal I’m still working on as we speak. And I, too, have found a community of writers and friends here that is everything. Pretty fucking delighted both of you, Eleanor and Troy, are part of that community. ♥️
💜🥂Love this series, Eleanor. Especially when I can learn more about people who already intrigue me. (@Mr. Troy Ford 😉)