THE RESILIENCE is an imaginary, yet very real, pirate ship. I should know – I built her. She’s not my first ship, but she is by far the one I have invested the most time and energy in. My flag ship.

I started this blog at a particularly low point in my life. My health was crumbling and my doctor wasn’t exactly cheerful. “Make peace with death,” he said. I spent quite some time thinking about that. If you knew life was in fact running out – what would you do? I landed in two answers: 1) I would make sure to enjoy what time I had left to the fullest. 2) I would try to leave some kind of legacy for my (grand)children to know me by. Neither of those seemed particularly doable given the situation I was in.

I wanted to write and travel. Visit family and friends, see new places, feel the sun on my face and sit by a body of water with my doggo and write. And for that to happen I would have to find a way of making money. Without working. Or at least without having a job. It’s almost impossible to work when you spend almost all your time in bed. (Granted, this has changed somewhat since the 2020 lockdown, but this happened a few years prior to that.)

Exactly how things came about, and what my thoughts process was I have described in detail elsewhere, so I’ll stick to the Cliff’s notes version here. I’ve been a writer all my life, and it dawned on me that I was sitting on something of a treasure trove. Provided I could figure out a way to retrieve, and capitalise on, my vast catalogue of non-fictional texts. After some further pondering I worked it out.

Building the Resilience was the solution I needed. I envisioned a mighty pirate ship that would take me places. I’d fill the decks and cabins with exhibitions and libraries, and put up a shop or two where I could sell my work. I wouldn’t need too much money if I could find a smaller, considerably cheaper home. And live on my ship. Once there was enough money coming in for me to survive, I would allow myself to dive into the story archive. My collection of stories I’ve never had the guts to write down to share. 

But then Life laughed in my face…

The pandemic hit us, and there was a lockdown, and things got pretty dang bleak. I found it harder and harder to deal with “real life” whatever that is, and locked myself into my pandemic panic room instead. I named it As We Write and locked myself in there to let my imaginaition do what it does best with some of my old scripts. It was my happy place. A safe cabin, under the waterline, where I could forget about the horrors in the outside world.

This was my dream. Something so silly, so self-indulgent, I had never told anyone about it. I knew I could string a decent, non-fictional story together. I knew I was a good editor. A good writing coach. But those are all very different skillsets, and good storytellers are rare creatures. I had no idea whether I could actually write fiction that anyone would like to read, let alone pay for. I knew it was a vanity project, but it was what I needed to cope. Something just for me. Just for my love of the written word. Little did I know that, within 18 months, this place would no longer be my secret hide-out.

Today, the mighty Resilience has three dedicated officers on Quarterdeck and a steadily growing crew of indie authors on board. I have moved into the Captain’s Quarters up above, and I only come down here, to what is now the Quartermaster’s pantry, for nostalgic reasons. 

Whether we’re on sea, or camping out on a river bank somewhere, we all have our own cabins and make-shift tents. Our Ship’s Belle has named our little camp the New Paris Commune. We are rebels, you see. With our words as building blocks, we’re building the port we want to live in. We’re publishing the stories we want to share on our own terms.

We share resources, help each other grow and weigh in with feedback on ideas and WIPs. We proofread, suggest and discuss. We’re very different. We come from different backgrounds, and write in very different genres, but we have great respect for each other. At the end of the day, we’re all trying to tell our stories to the best of our ability. And we all share the same goals and dreams. We just want to write, and we hope that someone will love what we put out there as much as we do.

Our crew is diverse, and between us we write in many different genres. There’s horror, speculative fiction, romance, historical fiction, Sci-fi, and fantasy to name but a few. We are writing for adults, new adults, young adults and children. Some of our authors, myself included, also write smut. We do not discriminate, or look down on people, based on what they write or read. We do, however, believe that the experience is so much better for all involved if we keep some content separate.

As We Write is a safe for work and (relatively) family friendly space that is free from political, religious and sexual content. Holihell is her naughty little sister. She doesn’t have a space on board, but we’ve given her all of the penthouse over at our boutique readers’ retreat, Hotel de Ville, in Libertalia

Does this all sound really weird to you? Well, what can I say? We’re writers – we make shit up. It’s in our nature. But the Resilience isn’t just a place where writers and readers can meet. Check out the Ship’s Maps if you want to know what else we have to offer on board and in port.  

Don’t worry too much if you’re fuzzy on the details – we’ll make it all make sense along the way. For now, just grab yourself a drink from the galley, kick your shoes off and relax. There’s plenty of things to read and enjoy in here, and if you get lonely you can always strike up a conversation in the comments. Or go explore what’s behind all the closed doors in here. If it’s not locked, you’re welcome.

If, like most visitors, you find that you’re falling in love with us and would like to get further acquainted, please check out our support and recruitment pages below.

Love & Lust,

//Linnea Lucifer, Captain of the Resilience