Victoria Noe

This is the time of year when everyone is doing year-end wrap-ups and “best of” lists. We have all had a memorable year in some way, large or small, dramatic or quiet, good or bad. I started to write one of those compilations. But instead, I decided to choose a few people who changed my writing life in important ways during the past twelve months.



Orna Ross. I became a member of the Alliance of Independent Authors in 2014, early in my writing journey. I’d assumed, like most people, that I’d get a traditional publishing deal. But I learned that the books I wrote were too niche; not likely to be big sellers. So I self-published, a decision I have never regretted. The money I pay for my membership is the best money I spend all year. Over and over again, ALLi has saved me time, aggravation, and money. Then I joined Orna’s Patreon group because I needed more discipline and accountability with my writing business, and I got it. This year, though, Orna truly felt like a mentor to me. She recognized that I’d had a breakthrough, before I could describe it that way. I reached out to her in ways I never did before, and she has steered me to a clearer, more focused version of my writing business.
 

Mark S. King. I’ve known Mark for a while, first because of his blog, “My Fabulous Disease”. I included his mother in my F*g Hags book. We see each other in person rarely, but never fail to have a good time. In September at the US Conference on HIV/AIDS, Mark convened a dinner group of people who write about the epidemic (that's most of us in the photo above). I was initially surprised to be included, but as I told him later, I would’ve been pissed if I hadn’t been. There were writers and editors there I knew, a few I only knew online, and a couple I didn’t know at all. A week later, Mark was in Chicago giving the keynote at a conference on HIV and aging. We had lunch and I vented a bit to him about my current situation, struggling to make more money. “You’re doing this wrong,” he said. “Your book is your calling card.” 

As a nonfiction writer, I always knew that, but for the first time I truly understood it. He asked me why I hadn’t pitched a particular publication (freelance writing is something I’d only recently dipped my toe in), since the editors were at that dinner. I had no real excuse, so we discussed what I could pitch. The following week I did, and that article will be published in January. Now, even as I work on the second edition of the F*g Hags book, freelance writing has moved up on my priorities list.
 

Heidi Keibler Stevens. I met Heidi on Facebook, but I’d read her columns in the Chicago Tribune for a long time. She’s written two columns about me, though not just about me. Early in COVID, she wrote a story about my high school class, whose 50th reunion had been canceled because of the pandemic. Another was about women in Chicago who write about HIV/AIDS, which featured me and Celeste Watkins-Hayes. Heidi also moderated a lively panel that I was on at Printers Row Lit Fest marking the 40th anniversary of the beginning of the HIV/AIDS epidemic. 

At some point in the late summer, I think, she messaged me and said I should be writing op-ed pieces. When I first read her message, I sighed. She was right, but I knew it was a specific kind of writing that I’d never done before. She encouraged me to take a workshop with The Op Ed Project, where she serves on the board. She even made sure I got a scholarship.

It was an intense two-day workshop online. I came away from it exhausted and stimulated, with the knowledge of how to write an effective opinion piece, and a somewhat obvious challenge: why should anyone care (about what I’m writing)? 

Did Orna, Mark or Heidi tell me anything I didn’t already know? Absolutely not. Maybe it was just good timing, that I was ready to hear what they had to say. All I know is that what they said and did for me resonated in ways I did not anticipate. Their guidance and support - and occasional very tough love - are shaping my plans for the next 18 months. And I’m a better writer, a better person, for that.

By necessity, my writing business changed a lot when COVID hit. In 2025 it will change drastically again. This time the impetus is the kick in the pants I got from all three of these people. Yes, they gave me great advice and guidance. I know that because I was finally able to open up about my challenges. I knew I had to stop being afraid of being vulnerable. Keeping everything to myself had accomplished nothing but frustration and occasional panic. Opening up made those connections possible. And I’m grateful to them all.

There have been others who helped me on a personal and professional level and raised me up. They are, I’m happy to say, too numerous to mention here. They, too, have made all the difference. So I go into 2025 with more confidence than concern about the quality of my writing and the health of my writing business, thanks to those considerably younger mentors. 

And as the 10th Doctor Who was fond of saying, “Allons-y!”