We’re Substackin’ Y’all!
Beginnings are juicy. This is a beginning.
photograph by Senay Inanici
(If that’s all you needed to hear, you can subscribe for free through this link or at savala.substack.com. I’ll send free subscribers one piece of writing a month.)
1. Why this, why now
First and foremost…I can! When I signed the contract for my second book I had no time for other writing. Two years later, Good Woman: A Reckoning, is available for preorder and I have time to write again.
Also, I’m finding other platforms less satisfying than I used to. Algorithmic shenanigans, and how other sites force the connection between writer and reader to be mediated through their ownership matrix, feel unappealing. I have loved Medium, and connecting with readers and writers here…But Substack seems to be the place where the human connections that a piece of writing can yield are most direct. Click here to subscribe, or visit savala.substack.com.
2. Hmmm. Are you sure now is the right time?
As sure as I can be. Yes, drawing attention to personal projects amidst global tumult can seem, feel, and be tricky. It reminds me a bit of when I published my first piece for Vogue. I’d written about my family’s connection to Breonna Taylor; I was so proud of that byline, but promoting my achievement in the context of someone else’s tragedy felt awkward, even inappropriate.
But I conceive of this space less as self-promotion and more as connection and contribution. A while back I saw an Instagram post encouraging people to divert our money from Amazon and redirect it to small, local businesses. No, it said, Jeff Bezos won’t feel the difference, but those local business owners sure will. This logic resonates with me. No, (my) writing isn’t going to end war or save democracy — but some people may get some good from it. Some connection, some solace, some joy, and some useful thinking may emerge from my additions to commons.
Finally, I’ve become certain that the times call for art, which is to say, “material with which to think.”1 I’m late to this party: Opining on artists’ responsibility in times of crisis,Toni Morrison said, “This is precisely the time when artists go to work.” Nina Simone declared that artists must reflect the times we live in. Toni Cade Bambara wrote that artists should strive to make the revolutions irresistible. Lofty goals. Worthy goals.
I can’t promise I’ll be making anything irresistible, or reflecting the times with unassailable precision. But I can promise to go to work.
2. Who should subscribe
I write to know what I think (like Joan Didion, to whom I am not comparing myself), and I write to “meet my ghosts,” in the words of Terry Tempest Williams. So if you like how I think (or ghosts), I’m your girl.
I also love thinking about gender, race, art, and bodies, so expect them to show up. I’m drawn to places in culture and personal experience where unlikely things bump against each other. I like messing around in the apertures of big questions. Processes interest me greatly — meaning the how of life. I read the news and sometimes write responses to current events.
My work as a lawyer and professor ties in, too. I’m interested in the power of personal narrative to make change, and in the practice of counter-narrative, or, in other words, stories that subvert norms, showcase unexplored perspectives, and broad inquiries. These interests come from my education and work as a lawyer, and my engagement with critical race theory and feminist jurisprudence in particular.
3. The goods
A free subscription includes:
- One piece of writing each month. Expect these micro-essays and musings to grapple with the magnificence and messiness of life in equal measure, to embrace the silly and the profound, and to be about the length of your average Op Ed
Paid subscribers will get:
- An additional piece of writing each month (two pieces total, hot damn!)
- Sneak-peeks into my process as a writer, including scenes/paragraphs from the cutting room floor
- AMAs/Q&As about the topics in my wheelhouse (writing, publishing, race, gender, bodies, etc.)
- Book recommendations (and other artsy/entertaining/current-moment recommendations)
- And the odd, fun surprise here and there; to borrow from Martin Buber, every journey has secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
A word about paid subscriptions: Paying $6 a month for a subscription supports me directly in a few ways. It defrays the costs of research (research turns into writing) and helps cover periodic childcare (so I can write). It lets me focus on creating my best work instead of writing for markets, algorithms, or specific editors/publications. And, not for nothing, it signals that you appreciate what you’re reading and the work to transform the spark of an idea into polished, public writing, which has true and lovey dignitary value for me as an artist. If your finances allow, thank you for considering a paid subscription.
All this said: I grew up without money, and I believe art is a necessity, not a luxury. I’ve therefore set aside a number of gifted subscriptions for students and seniors on a fixed income. If this is you, please reach out here.
4. The bona fides
I and my writing have been featured in Vogue, Harper’s, The New York Times, NPR, Time, LitHub, and more. I’m also part of the team behind the Peabody Award-winning podcast, The Promise.
My second essay collection, Good Woman: A Reckoning, will be published by HarperCollins in March 2026. Here’s some early praise:
‘Savala Nolan’s Good Woman is a stone cold, knock-out punch delivered with the caress of a silk glove. This book cracks you open. Then, having done so, with Nolan’s characteristic nerviness, she dares to tend to your tender places. This book will change you.’ — Brittany Cooper, author of Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower
‘This good woman thinks boldly and writes with exhilarating passion. Whatever the subject — gender, sex, race, class, art, politics — she disrupts piety and honors complexity. These are smart and daring essays to learn from and revel in.’ — Margo Jefferson, author of Negroland and Constructing a Nervous System
I’m also the author of Don’t Let It Get You Down: Essays on Race, Gender, and the Body, which was shortlisted for the 2022 William Saroyan Prize and garnered praise:
“[A] standout collection…a brutal, beautifully rendered narrative. [D]ances in the spaces between binaries of Black womanhood.” — The New York Times Book Review
“I like the voice and intelligence with which these essays come together…A vibrant and thoughtful collection.” — Roxane Gay
“A searing, unsettling, beautiful set of investigations deep into her own mind, body, and personal history. This is a book about love, friendship, family and freedom — and the deep discomfort that can exist within those simple words. A riveting, difficult work written with rhythm and artistry.” — NPR
“An eloquently provocative memoir in essays…This fierce and intelligent book is important not just for how it celebrates hard-won pride in one’s identity, but also for how Nolan articulates the complicated — and too often overlooked — nature of personal and cultural in-betweenness.”
— Kirkus Reviews
“Nolan’s writing on identity and self-worth is captivating from start to finish; her words will resonate long after the last page.” — Library Journal *STARRED REVIEW*
“Savala Nolan is powerful and complex… Like Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me, Nolan’s essays speak to both young and old Americans about our country’s pervasive history of racism.” — BookPage *STARRED REVIEW*
“In gorgeous prose and with profound clarity, Savala Nolan reckons with the interconnected oppressions, external and internalized, that have burdened her body: Anti-blackness, fat phobia, colonialism, and patriarchy. Don’t Let it Get You Down is vital reading for all of us working to bust out of boxes, binaries, silences, and shame.”
— Nadia Owusu, author of Aftershocks
Want to join me for the ride? Click here to subscribe, or visit savala.substack.com.
1That’s how critic Olivia Laing defines art.
