#qcf

Quindrie Press’ goal has always been to support the UK comic scene, so a large portion of our profit over the years has been bookmarked to be able to pay creators for future projects. As Quindrie Press will be closing down at the end of 2026, we want to ensure the bookmarked money still goes towards comic creators.

The Quindrie Comic Fund will consist of a shared £3,000 pot. UK-based creators can apply for up to £1,000 for a specific comic-related project or goal. Maybe you want to buy some comic-making supplies, attend a workshop to improve your craft, pay for an editor, or print your webcomic; no comic project is too small. Submissions will be reviewed by Eve Greenwood, Hari Conner, and Nyla Ahmad.

Submissions open on Friday 8th May 2026 and close on Friday 31st July 2026 at 5pm BST (three months total). For full details on creator and project eligibility, read the information page here.

We have already heard from people who are interested in donating to increase the fund pot. I would be delighted to expand the fund and would gratefully accept donations of any size. If you would like to donate to the fund so that it can support more creators, please go to the donation information page here to learn how and sign up for an email notification when the donation page goes live on 6th April 2026.

If you don’t already know how I came to Christ, you can read that journey here. I made the choice to come out at my church fellowship, and I couldn’t have asked for a better coming out. I was a gay Christian who was following the path to celibacy. But my return to my hometown brought me a new challenge to face.

OUT OF THE CLOSET - How I became visible

Moving back in with my parents wasn’t easy. We had more of the same arguments, and I felt caught between my family and my faith. Eventually, this dispute went from deep contention to deep respect. From the shadows of disputation came the dawn of honesty. What I thought was a terrible experience with my family turned out to be the very thing that would bring us closer together.

This winter, I decided to buy a ticket to the annual Gay Christian Network conference. This year it was in Denver, CO. I heard about it through a straight ally, and I’ve always wanted to know more about the organization. I was not prepared for what God had in store for me.

Aside from finally being in a space where I don’t feel out of place, and meeting online friends in real life, and feeling instantly connected with people who are from completely different cultures,...there were 3 takeaway points I got from GCN:

1. There are parts of my identity I never noticed were there.

I noticed this when I was around other Side B folks, especially the ones who were more out than me and happened to be more flamboyant than me. I noticed myself being comfortable expressing my - for a lack of a better term - “femininity.” It was shocking to me how comfortable I felt expressing this side of me. It was like flapping a pair of wings I didn’t know I had. Was I suppressing my “gay” side my whole life? What else was hiding inside of me that was afraid to see the light?

2. Side A people aren’t bad Christians. 

I’ve been told my whole Christian life that Side A people were twisting or watering down the Bible, treading dangerous waters, living a life of lies, or just straight up not Christians. This negative picture of them caused me to cling to what I thought was the only way, which is to believe that God had called all gay Christians to celibacy. I especially cling since I still sometimes believe and act like I’m a new Christian. I could finally sit down and talk to Side A Christians face-to-face and hear from their perspectives what God was revealing to them.

3. Side A and Side B are not opposites.

These two camps were polarized by my peers. I’ve been told they “can’t both be right” and that they are on opposite sides. There is actually a lot the two sides have in common. The most important one is that we both want to help our churches understand and nourish us. Rather than argue theology, we should unite in helping our churches succeed, and we can learn from one another in the process. I also got to meet a few Side A folks that used to be Side B, and what that journey was like.

I could write several blog posts of how God used GCN (now called Q Christian Fellowship or QCF) for me. But in summary, this conference made me a beautiful picture of what the kingdom of God was like, and how I could be a part of that as a gay man. You can imagine the huge contrast I noticed coming back home.

I’ve been attending a large 1000+ congregation church ever since I moved back to my hometown. And even though I had been there for 2 years, I had not met a single other LGBT person that attends it. Realizing my lack of an LGBT network, I decided to seek non-religious LGBT friends for the first time. In doing so, after being out of the closet for 5 years, I could finally accept myself as part of the LGBT community. I came out on Facebook because I realized how many churches lacked an LGBT voice. I could finally let my Christian and non-Christian friends know that gay Christians exist and we have something to say.

OUT OF THE DARK - How God became visible to me through a new lens.

I was still feeling uncomfortable about my feelings. Was I supposed to live my life having crushes on men all the time and then just do NOTHING about it? To help me make logical sense of myself, I took the bold step to download a dating app for the first time in my life. Although it was exhilarating at first, I eventually realized the downsides to online dating and reeled it back to just passively looking. There were still a lot of questions I needed answers to.

I read books by Kathy Baldock and Justin Lee, and I was listening to countless episodes of the Queerology podcast. I was having conversations with LGBT Christians online, and I found a local LGBT bible study group. I was (and always was) an information sponge.

I got to a point in which I realized how Side A Christians seemed no different from the rest. They wanted to live life in honor of Christ, they want to center their relationships around His word, they make great parents, and they even seek out premarital counseling just like a straight Christian couple would. I got to a point where I was uncomfortable believing that God’s call to celibacy applied to EVERY LGBT person. 

I started to become bitter at my lack of LGBT exposure in my adulthood. It was even more evident when I realized I had only gone to heterosexual Christian weddings for the last 8 or so years of my life. What was marriage? What defined a Christian marriage if I had never gone to a secular one? What defined marriage if I had never gone to a homosexual one? 

God answered my last question in a humorous way. I got to finally “attend” my first same-sex wedding by watching two female characters in a TV show propose and marry. I watched that episode with a queer friend of mine. “Why do you still believe what you believe, Derek?,” they asked me. “I feel like I’ve been supportive most of your life, and your parents have been supportive most of your life. So why do you still believe what you believe?” I summarized to them Side B theology and explained I was still in between B and A. It challenged me and made me do a lot of thinking.

I had the opportunity to attend my first ever affirming church - although it was only 5 people and we met in the back of a restaurant. The pastor was really wise, and they had been in the gay church for decades. I really saw a deep care for people like me. A respect for seeking God in a way that only LGBT people can seek Him. As I drove my friend home from that church, I couldn’t help but be excited. I was excited to meet more people like that and have more conversations with them. My friend looked over at me and said something that really stuck with me.

“Derek, it’s great that you want to meet all these people and talk with them. But you can’t have them decide for you what to believe. Only you can decide what you believe.”

I nodded and kept driving, but they were right. I needed to make this a personal decision.

That night, I couldn’t shake the feeling that God was trying to tell me something. I went outside to the pool area in my apartment complex and lied down on one of the orange lounge chairs. The only light that was illuminating the dark, star-less sky was a single lamp post and the blue glow from the water. I decided to call up a friend. 

I wasn’t sure what God wanted me to do, so I just prayed with them on the phone. I began praying about how God made me and how I enjoyed the Earth he put me on. I prayed how diverse he made us yet how we couldn’t live up to His perfection. And then I realized the other beautiful thing He gave me. The power of choice.

By this time, my words could no longer be comprehensible over the tears and the sounds coming from my heart. My friend finished the prayer and thanked me for letting them into this experience. They ended the call. I cried for another 19 minutes. I couldn’t move my fingers. I couldn’t get up off the lounge chair. My body was aching with whatever was transforming me at the moment. But I was extremely emotional because I realized the power of choice.

God gave me the choice to believe in Him or not to believe in Him back in my freshman year of college.

God gave me the choice to come out or not to come out when I was about to graduate.

God gave me the choice to stay at my old church or move across California to live back with my parents.

And finally, God gave me to the choice to believe in Side A or in Side B.

What was preventing me from choosing Side A? That I would lose community. That I would lose all the people who had supported me when I was choosing Side B. That some of my churches would look at me with shame if I started dating another man. That some of my friends would not attend my wedding if I decided to marry that man. 

But you know what? God’s love is greater than that. God’s love is greater than my friends’ love for me. Instead of fearing what I would lose, I could hope for what I could gain. I could gain a more beautiful and authentic life. A life in which I no longer felt like I was cursed, but a life in which I was blessed. The beauty of God’s LGBT children was extremely evident in that moment, and transcended all of the fear I had of my non-affirming friends’ judgments. So I guess you could say that’s when I became Side A.