MEET MY WRITING STUDENTS
I want you to meet some people, my new writing students.
For a while now I've been teaching a course in writing sapphic fiction — and I've ended up with seven students I'm genuinely proud of. Seven people who turn up, do the hard parts, and refuse to take the shortcut even when the shortcut is right there and nobody would know.
That matters to me more than I can put into words. There's a lot of fast, hollow writing in the world right now, and these seven are doing the opposite. They're learning the craft properly: structure, character, voice, the unglamorous mechanics underneath every story that resonates. They're building something real, and they're building it with integrity.
They're also a wonderful queer bunch, and the work they're producing is the kind that makes me certain sapphic fiction is in good hands. Developing new, genuinely talented sapphic writers feels more important now than it ever has. So I'm not just going to tell you they exist, I'm going to introduce you to every one of them.
Over the coming days, weeks and months, I'll bring you a proper introduction to each of these seven: who they are, why they write, and what they're working on. Some of them will make you laugh. All of them are worth your time.
Let’s start with Nichola Coan.
Nichola Coan writes sapphic romance set in the world she knows, beginning with the aviation industry where she has spent her career. Her stories find chemistry in terminal buildings, cockpits and holding patterns, and in the women who unexpectedly change each other's flight paths.
South African-born and UK-based, she writes about women whose lives are already full before love arrives—women with careers, histories, and hard-won independence who discover that love can still take them by surprise.
When she’s not writing, she's reading, cycling with her partner Sue, or behind a camera capturing moments.
Find her on Instagram at @lens_and_lit and follow her author journey as Nichola Coan on Facebook.
Want to meet some of Nichola's characters she's been working on as part of the exercises for the course? Then here is an opening excerpt from Delayed, her work in progress and debut novel.
Delayed by Nichola Coan (The Opening)
Lana hated delays. Not because of the passengers; she could handle them. It was the waiting that came with delays that she couldn’t stand. The endless holding pattern where there was nothing left to do but think. And thinking usually led somewhere she didn’t want to go.
The rain lashed against the terminal windows, turning the floodlights outside into blurred halos. Out on the apron, ground crews moved through the downpour in bright yellow waterproofs, loading baggage and guiding aircraft through the storm.
Inside, Gate 9C, D and E was a sea of frustration. Two delayed departures, one cancellation, three hundred passengers demanding answers.
Lana should have felt comfortable here. This was her territory. Give her an angry passenger and she could de-escalate the situation in under a minute. Yet tonight, she felt exhausted.
“You know staring at the rain won’t make it stop.” Lana turned. Casey stood behind her, holding two takeaway coffees.
Her dark curls were damp from being outside, and her reflective jacket was speckled with rain.
“Depends how hard I stare,” Lana replied.
Casey handed her a coffee. “Careful. It’s hot.”
“So are most of my passengers,” Lana said. “Hot and bothered.”
They stood side by side, looking out over the apron. A baggage cart rolled past below them. Amber taxiway lights reflected across the wet concrete. For a moment neither spoke. It should have felt awkward, but it never did with Casey. That was part of the problem. Most people either wanted something from Lana or were intimidated by her; Casey didn’t seem concerned by either.
“You look tired,” Casey said.
“I am tired,” Lana said with a slight smile.
“Then go home. The weather won’t change anytime soon. This is out of your control.”
Lana laughed. “As if that’s an option.”
“Pretty sure it is,” Casey said lightly.
“We have two delayed departures and one cancellation. There might be more if the weather doesn’t change soon.” Lana took a deep breath. “We have passengers threatening complaints.”
“Airports always have passengers threatening us with complaints, not only during storms.” Casey took a sip of coffee. “Everything isn’t yours to fix, you know.”
Lana’s jaw tightened. “That’s literally my job.”
“No. Your job is customer service.”
“And customer service means solving problems, Casey.”
“Not carrying every problem, Lana.”
Lana looked away. She hated when Casey did this, not because Casey was wrong, but because she wasn’t.
Outside, a marshaller directed an aircraft onto a stand. Casey watched the operation below before speaking again. “When was the last time you left on time?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“A simple one.”
Lana didn’t answer. The truth was she couldn’t remember. There was always another email. Another passenger issue. Another report. Another reason to stay. If she kept moving, nobody noticed the cracks. Nobody asked questions. Nobody discovered that underneath the polished confidence was someone terrified of not being enough. The fear had lived beneath the surface for so long it felt like part of her. It shadowed her every move, every late night, every impossible standard she demanded of herself, whispering that worth was something to be earned, never freely given.
“You’ve gone quiet.” Casey’s voice pulled her back.
Lana forced a smile. “Just thinking.”
“Dangerous.” Casey laughed. The sound settled something in Lana’s chest she hadn’t realised was tense.
“Very.”
“Can I ask you something?” Casey said.
“Depends.”
“Why do you work this hard?”
Lana immediately reached for her usual answer. Because I care. Because it’s my job. Because people depend on me. None of them felt honest.
Lana stared at the aircraft outside. “I don’t know.”
Casey raised an eyebrow. “That’s a lie.”
Lana sighed. “Maybe.”
The silence stretched. Neither rushed to fill it.
Finally, Casey spoke. “You know what I think?”
“Should I be worried?” Lana teased.
“Probably.” Casey smiled. Casey leaned against the glass. “I think you’ve spent so long proving yourself that you don’t know who you are when you’re not proving something.”
Casey glanced down. “Stand 22 is having a moment.”
“One of your favourite moments?”
“Absolutely not.” They both laughed.
Casey pushed away from the window. “I should go rescue my ramp team.”
“Heroically?” Lana smiled.
“Barely competently.”
Lana watched her take a few steps before speaking.
“Casey?” Casey turned.
“Yeah?”
Lana hesitated. The words felt strangely vulnerable.
“Thanks… for the coffee.”
A smile spread across Casey’s face, the soft kind, the one Lana tried very hard not to think about.
“Anytime.”
Then she was gone. Back toward the operations corridor and the chaos waiting outside. Lana remained by the window. The delays hadn’t changed, the weather hadn’t improved. Passengers were still angry, yet somehow the terminal felt lighter.
Her gaze drifted to the rain-swept apron where Casey’s team worked beneath the floodlights. For the first time all evening, Lana wasn’t thinking about complaints or departure times. She was thinking about Casey and wondering whether she’d spent so many years hiding behind success that she’d forgotten how to let someone see the person underneath.
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Nichola’s debut novel is in progress so follow her journey at @lens_and_litand here on Facebook.
1 comment
Love this so much! Look forward to following all their journeys. And I’m so ready to read chapter 2 of Delayed! 👏🏼