One gave us a better way to navigate the world. The other wrote songs that imagined a bigger one. But Gladys Mae West and Dolly Parton had something else in common: they outsmarted the stereotypes waiting for them.

From GPS to Jolene

Last week’s death of Dolly Parton and hearing the story of her roots got me thinking about another little Southern woman we lost earlier this year—Dr. Gladys Mae West. Now, Gladys Mae West and Dolly Rebecca Parton Dean are probably two names you wouldn’t expect to hear strung together in a sentence, much less an essay. But stay with me.

I’d like to offer you a bit of knowledge about these two super women and who they became because of stereotypes.

Dr. Gladys Mae West and Dolly Rebecca Parton Dean, both products of rural America, both faced stereotypes as obstacles to their success, and both understood education made a difference. Both changed the world.

First, a little bit about Dr. West.

Gladys Mae Brown was born in 1930 in rural Dinwiddie County, Virginia. This was Jim Crow Virginia. And America had a picture of a Black girl from the South: ignorant, incapable, intellectually inferior. So, opportunities for a Negro girl were limited. Her options were working in the tobacco fields, growing corn or cotton, or finding a position in the local tobacco-processing factory.

Gladys Mae wanted something different. Education or book-learning called to her at an early age. She excelled in school, became valedictorian of her high-school class, and earned a scholarship to Virginia State College, now Virginia State University. There she earned her bachelor’s degree in mathematics in 1952 and her master’s in mathematics in 1955.

Think about those dates. She was fighting for higher education before Brown v. Board of Education was decided in 1954. Segregation ruled the land as she pursued higher degrees in mathematics.

In 1956, she was hired as a mathematician at the Naval Proving Ground in Dahlgren, Virginia. She was the second Black woman hired there and one of only four Black professional employees at the facility. This was her big break in science. Gladys Mae became a programmer working on computers and sophisticated data satellites. In the 1960s, she helped study the relationship between Pluto and Neptune and worked on satellite ocean-monitoring projects.

West used complex algorithms that accounted for gravitational, tidal, and other forces, and programmed an IBM 7030 computer to produce accurate mathematical models that became crucial to satellite geodesy and the precision of GPS.

She worked at Dahlgren for 42 years. When she retired, she returned to school and earned a doctorate at Virginia Tech at age 70. This is a stupendous accomplishment for the girl who could have spent her life in a tobacco factory.

It becomes extraordinary knowing that every time you pull out your phone and ask for directions or track a package, you’ve touched Dr. Gladys Mae West’s technology.

When a plane finds its route, a ship crosses an ocean, an ambulance finds an address, your Uber or Lyft or Instacart finds you, it’s because of the little lady who didn’t let Jim Crow stereotypes stop her.

Now that Other little Southern Lady

Dolly Rebecca Parton was born in 1946 in rural Tennessee, one of twelve children.

Her family was poor. Her father, Robert Lee Parton, couldn’t read or write. America had a stereotype for her, too: the poor, uneducated Appalachian hillbilly.

But Dolly learned to read and write, and when she encountered the town tramp, she wasn’t reviled by this Appalachian woman. She was intrigued by her beauty and red fingernails. As Dr. Gladys Mae pushed away from the stereotypes, Dolly leaned in. She took that stereotype, put it in heels, added rhinestones, teased its hair toward the heavens, made it work for her, and started a music career.

At age 10 she began writing songs and performing publicly. At age 13, she performed at the Grand Ole Opry and was introduced by Johnny Cash. She received 3 encores. After high school, she moved to Nashville to pursue music full-time and landed a spot on the Porter Wagner show in 1967. This gave her the opportunity to perform on TV and to continue developing her songwriting talents. We know her for “Jolene,” “Coat of Many Colors,” “9 to 5,” and “I Will Always Love You.”

“I Will Always Love You,” written as a farewell to Porter Wagoner, hit #1 on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart in 1974. Eighteen years later, Whitney Houston recorded her famous cover for The Bodyguard in 1992, and it reached #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in November 1992.

Whitney Houston’s recording became one of the biggest-selling singles in music history. Dolly, who wrote the song and retained publishing rights, received royalties, some of which she donated to charities and invested in Black Nashville neighborhoods. Dolly is one of the most charitable singers in the world, having given through her foundation, the Imagination Library, money to provide free books directly into the hands of children.

What began in one Tennessee county grew across the United States and then beyond it. Today the program operates in five countries—the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Australia and the Republic of Ireland—and distributes more than two million free books every month.

Hundreds of millions of books have gone into children’s hands.

Two southern women have both impacted the world. They understood how stereotypes can hinder a career and then plotted paths to succeed. So one confronted the stereotype with quiet mathematical precision. The other dressed the stereotype in rhinestones and laughed all the way to the bank.

Just two little dreamers who understood the same fundamental truth:

Your beginnings may describe where you started.

They do not have to determine where you end.

That’s sort of sounds like how a writer writes a novel. So if Dr. Gladys Mae and Dolly can dream big, what’s stopping you?

By the time you hear this podcast, Book Number 32, Murder in St. James’s Park, will be out in the world.

This is the next installment in the Lady Worthing Mystery Series.

Lady Worthing has been experiencing a few marital difficulties.

Let’s just say…

That might not be the case by the end of this book. Check it out. Order it where books are sold. Tell your library about it. Request it. Read it. Talk about it.

And then come back and tell me what you think.

And Bookmiser has a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea and Murder in St. James’s Park.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com, under the podcast link in the About tab.

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. I need you. That is the truth. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

An image. A photograph. Sometimes we take them for granted. We snap our phones so quickly, only to scroll through them for social posts or store them for infinity in clouds.

Does anyone remember having to take a roll of film out of a camera with care—rolling it up, taking it to be developed? Anyone remember what it felt like to wait to pick up the prints? Now we have so many at our fingertips that many of these images will never be opened again.

Technology has advanced, and we all walk around with a digital lens to analyze the world. Everyone can capture history or life with a click. And especially in our constantly moving 24-hour news cycle, images can start to lose their meaning. Of course, we begin to feel their value again when something like—oh, I don’t know—authoritarianism creeps in and tries to keep us from seeing things and asking questions.

Pictures are meant to help us save our moments. I saw one this week, that I can’t get out of my head. It’s not traumatic; it’s not painful. It’s lovely, very heartwarming. It’s of a ballerina and a dancer turned choreographer and teacher.

On October 22, 2025, Misty Copeland took her final bow with the American Ballet Theatre in New York. Misty came on stage for applause, and Debbie Allen—the icon—embraced her.

The moment stopped me. To see a legend embracing another legend—it’s powerful. It’s the kind of image that reminds you what legacy looks like. It says: You’ve finished this part of your journey, and the next part will be even better. You’ll touch more people, like I have. And you can also take a moment to rest and enjoy what you’ve accomplished. You can feel that warmth, that love, that encouragement radiating through the hug.

And honestly, in these times—when the government has shut down, when benefits are threatened, when healthcare costs could skyrocket, and so many people are drowning in anxiety—that kind of reassurance, that quiet “I’ve been there, and you’re going to be all right,” means the world.

This week, I went to the 21st Cavalcade in Chicago, hosted by my dear friend, author Lissa Woodson. It was a reunion of sorts—people who were there at the very beginning of my writing journey came, as well as many new faces just starting theirs. It was a good time full of hugs and laughs. Dear author buddy and Fun Friday Girl, Pat Simmons, arrived and brought even more fun. I snapped a selfie of us.

Panya, one of my dear friends from college, came, and we shared dinner, more laughter, and stories about our children, husbands, and our global lives. Every small moment is to be savored and captured—not only on phones but in our hearts and minds. And I had the waiter snap a photo of us.

A big part of the Cavalcade is being at the convention center and interfacing with the public. All of us, regardless of the stage of our careers—indie, hybrid, or traditional—we all hustled. We all tried to get someone to listen and maybe make a sale.

Oh, the memories this brings back.

And I hope the new authors there felt welcomed and hugged upon. I want them to know: Hey, it may be rocky right now, but it’s going to be all right.

And let me just say this: Author MarZé Scott gives the best hugs known to humankind. I’m convinced she’s secretly a chiropractor because she hugs you just right. You don’t just feel safe—you feel loved, deeply loved, and spine-straightened—even if you’ve only just met. That’s a rare gift: to be medicinal, maternal, and downright cool. I hope she knows how special it is to receive her hug and the impression she leaves with everyone she embraces.

Lissa snapped our picture. I’m grateful for each picture, each moment captured now and forever. These stills remind me of the love, the connection, the humanity we share. We’re moving into the holiday season—Thanksgiving’s on the horizon. It’s time to donate hugs—give to food pantries, check in on people who might be lonely or forgotten. Share your time. Everyone’s going through something. And this season, we need to be a little kinder, a little more forgiving.

That’s the power of a hug. It wrings out the bitterness from the soul and leaves space for goodness.

Now, I’ve added to my phone those pictures of Debbie Allen and Misty Copeland hugging. I even went scrolling to see if Debbie hugged Shonda Rhimes—I’m pretty sure they did offstage at their recent Atlanta/Dekalb meet-up to celebrate The Year of Yes. If not for the Cavalcade, I would’ve been at Shonda’s tour stop.

My Year of Yes was 2019, which began my journey into writing historical fiction—finally taking the stories I’d grown up hearing or stumbled upon in research and actually writing them. Before my Year of Yes, I’d been told by agents and editors that there was no interest in historical novels that singularly focused on Black women—particularly of Caribbean descent—as the heroes of their own lives. I’m very proud to have birthed three such novels into the world (Island Queen, Sister Mother Warrior, Queen of Exiles) and to be about to birth a fourth: Fire Sword and Sea, coming January 13, 2026.

Yet, as I look out at the world, I think we need more hugs—more soft places to land—as the landscape keeps shifting and going backward, where the needle of what’s important or print-worthy is dictated by algorithms and viral images on social media.

So in this season, when patience runs thin, when anxiety is high and irritation is always just around the corner—find those huggers. Let them give you a good embrace. Let it cleanse your soul a little. And as always, hug your writer friends. Let them know that there is more good road ahead for their feet—and their keyboards—to follow.

Today List of books is for the huggers:

Year of Yes: 10th Anniversary Edition by Shonda Rhimes — In this expanded edition, the bestselling TV-creator reflects on how saying “yes” changed her life and invites readers to step into their own.

Stop in the Name of Love by Naleighna Kai and U.M. Hiram — An emotionally charged romance where passion collides with faith, family, and hard choices that test both heart and conscience.

King Of South Shore by MarZé Scott — A secretive millionaire real-estate mogul’s romance could end before things really get started.

Dancing in the Wings by Debbie Allen is a lovely children’s book that loosely is based on the actress’s own experiences as a young dancer.

Contempt by Pat Simmons — Grandma BB orchestrates a practice funeral for the Jamieson clan, but unexpected surprises and an uninvited guest turn the evening into a lively, unforgettable family gathering.

This week, I’m highlighting FoxTale Bookshoppe through their website and Bookshop.org

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from FoxTale or one of my partners in the fight, bookstore’s large and small who are in this with me.

We are less three months away the January 13th release. Please spread the word and preorder this adventure about Caribbean women pirates of the 1600s. Piracy is legal. It’s their escape, and answer to prayer. And remember to get collector cards with your preorder. Then tell me, who’s on your crew?

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast.

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

If you’re on board this ship, hit that like button and subscribe and share Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We have work to do. And I need You.

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

Originally posted 2025-10-28 13:10:00.

As a writer, the greatest gift I can offer a reader is the ability to feel. Love, anger, or the powerful sense of being seen—my books come with an implicit promise. I intend to transport you, enlighten you, and to invite you to inhabit someone else’s shoes. You will tread in their footsteps, see through their eyes, and be consumed by their emotions. This is my gift, my bond with my readers.

I truly believe all writers are empaths at heart. That’s why last week was especially hard—a whirlwind of emotions and memories, crashing upon me at the same time.

In Atlanta, a rare snowstorm—an event last seen a decade ago—brought the city to a standstill. At the same time, the world paused to honor President Jimmy Carter, a man synonymous with empathy and kindness. He was my first president, well the first I can actually remember. The plain spoken, proud son of Georgia, gave the world a lifetime of service. His passing like his presidency, brought together people across political divides, reminding us of the compassion that once defined leadership.

On the other coast, in California, a cruel trifecta of fire, wind, and drought ignited devastating wildfires. Over 20,000 acres have burned in the Palisades Fire. You know the names—Malibu, Mandeville Canyon, Brentwood, and the hills of Encino and Tarzana. The Fires in Eaton which includes devasted generational communities of Pasadena and Altadena–have been hit with significant property damage. The Hurst, Kenneth, Archer and Lidia Fires still rage at the time of this recording.

We’ve Seen This All Before

Throughout history, natural disasters have tested human resilience:

* 1556: The Shaanxi Earthquake in China claimed 830,000 lives, the deadliest recorded.

* 1692: The Port Royal Earthquake and tsunami destroyed two-thirds of the “Wickedest City on Earth,” killing over 2,000. Neighboring islands sent organized looters.

* 1815: Mount Tambora erupted in modern-day Indonesia, leading to the “Year Without a Summer” and a global death toll of 80,000–100,000.

* 1900: The Great Galveston Hurricane killed as many as 12,000.

* 1931: The China Flood led to approximately 4 million deaths from drowning, starvation, and disease.

* 1970: Cyclone Bhola in Bangladesh caused over 300,000 deaths.

* 2004: The Indian Ocean Tsunami killed over 230,000 people across 14 countries.

* 2005: Hurricane Katrina left 1,800 dead and caused $161 billion in damages, with long-term displacement of residents.

* 2010: The Haiti Earthquake caused over 222,000 deaths and displaced over 1.3 million people.

* 2011: The Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan triggers the Fukushima nuclear disaster and kills over 19,000 people.

* 2017: Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico caused 2975 deaths and massive infrastructure failures. Puerto Rico was left without power, water, or basic services for months.

* 2017: Hurricane Harvey in Texas wreaked havoc, leaving thousands dead and causing $125 billions in damages.

2024 Hurricane Helene

Hurricane Helene devastated six Southern states from September 24–29, 2024, claiming at least 236 lives. Entire towns in the far inland mountains of North Carolina—Chimney Rock Village, Marshall, and Hot Springs—were essentially washed away by floods.

Helene’s damage was personal. It struck my hometown of Aiken, South Carolina—a small town known for horse racing and Refrigerator Perry of the Chicago Bears. My aunt and cousins were without power for almost a week. The massive oak outside the 5-and-dime store where I had my first job was ripped from the concrete sidewalk by the storm’s ferocious winds. When I visited Aiken in December, two months after the hurricane, the town still bore the scars. Fallen trees littered the landscape, and many roads and houses remained in disrepair.

Miss me with the idea that this is what we deserved. Miss me with the craven spirit that left people frightened and hopeless, thinking no help was coming because this disaster unfolded during a contentious political season.

No place or community is immune to catastrophe. Each disaster brings grief, rebuilding, and, most importantly, a need for solidarity. But are we up to the task? Increasingly, a spirit of division and disdain seems to overshadow the empathy we once showed in times of tragedy. Have we lost our humanity?

Going Back to Cally

Over 180,000 people have been evacuated, and at least 10 lives have been lost in the fires ravaging California. Sadly, that number will likely rise once the flames are contained. But how do we contain the blaze consuming our humanity? Instead of unity, many are quick to condemn, point fingers, or dismiss the devastation as a plight of wealthy Malibu residents or Hollywood elites.

When disaster strikes the rich and famous, cynics are eager to believe they deserved it. But what about places like Chimney Rock or Aiken or other less affluent communities devastated by storms? Did they deserve it? Are you saying the God you believe in has condemned them as well? Tragedy doesn’t discriminate based on wealth, geography, or political allegiance.

Empathy isn’t about whether someone “deserves” to suffer. It’s about recognizing our shared humanity in the face of catastrophe.

Consider this: the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) is funded by taxes from both blue and red states. Blue states, often with liberal politics, contribute the most to federal aid, including FEMA dollars. Meanwhile, red states, more prone to natural disasters, tend to receive more federal funding relative to what they contribute. Could it be that we need each other?

If we let division overshadow compassion, we risk eroding the foundation that binds us as a nation. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. But here’s the question: when was the last time you chose to love someone as much as you love yourself?

Subscribe for free. Get Vanessa’s take on publishing, challenges, and opportunities, drawing from her journey as an indie author turned traditionally published powerhouse: 25 novels and counting.

Atlanta’s and Texas’s Snowmageddon

Ten years ago, on January 28, 2014, Atlanta experienced a rare snowstorm—just two-and-a-half inches of snow turned interstates into parking lots. People were stranded for hours, some overnight. Weather advisories had warned of impending danger, but when the morning came with no snow on the ground and no sleet in the air, most assumed the storm had passed.

I remember leaving my house around 9 a.m. for a dental appointment. By 10 a.m., I had clean teeth but could barely drive home. Tragically, 13 people lost their lives. Life can change quickly, as that day reminded us. Eventually, we thawed out and survived being the butt of jokes for months.

Fast forward to 2022, during Winter Storm Uri in Texas. Extreme cold, snow, and power outages swept across the state, taking over 210 lives. While government officials argued and finger-pointed, neighbors stepped up. Families opened their homes, sharing warmth and shelter. I used Instacart to send water to friends who had no running supply.

In both of these “snowmageddons,” a profound truth emerged: empathy surged. People helped people. Compassion triumphed over adversity. These moments remind us of our capacity to care, even in the harshest conditions.

Back to Finger Pointing

The news has already shifted its focus in Los Angeles to looters, sidestepping the stories of everyday people who lost their homes or whose retirement facilities were reduced to ashes. Instead, we see blame placed on budget cuts and political decisions. Meanwhile, the unregulated cesspools of Facebook groups are busy mocking “Hollyweird” and spinning the tragedy into another divisive narrative.

I hope in my heart that for every negative story circulated, there are countless acts of kindness—neighbors helping neighbors, communities checking on the most vulnerable, and strangers opening their homes to those in need.

We still have power in these moments. We can step away from toxic conversations. We can amplify stories of love and solidarity instead of hatred and blame.

The goal isn’t to deepen division but to remind ourselves of what’s at stake. We need to care for one another, not because of where we live but because we all share this human experience.

It is possible—to mourn together, to heal together, and to rebuild together. If we can’t, can we at least choose silence—do the quiet “thoughts and prayers” thing we do when there’s a mass shooting?

What Should We Do?

If we choose to mourn and heal together, we must:

* Speak with empathy.

* Listen actively.

* Offer comfort to those in need.

As Proverbs 16:24 reminds us, “Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” Listening is helping. Platitudes are cheap. Empathy heals.

What Books Can We Read

As a book girly, I’ll make some recommendations:

* A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis: A deeply personal account of loss and healing.

* God Will Carry You Through by Max Lucado: Reflections on God’s sustaining grace.

* Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward: A haunting exploration of grief and resilience.

* Breathe: A Letter to My Sons by IMANI PERRY: A lyrical exploration of life, love, resilience and grief and systematic loss.

* See You on the Other Side by Rachel Montez Minor: A children’s book that provides comfort to the little ones grieving or coming to terms with loss.

Places We Can Donate

Money is action. Every little bit helps.

For LA, choose:

* World Central Kitchen

* United Way of Greater Los Angeles: Wildfire Response

* American Red Cross-Wildfire Relief

For Hurricane Helene, choose:

* United Way

* The Salvation Army

* All Hands and Hearts

Back To The Man from Plains

On January 9, 2025, President Carter’s casket was welcomed at the snow-capped National Cathedral, a grand limestone church with arches, ribbed vaults, flying buttresses, and over 200 stained-glass windows, including one containing a moon rock from Apollo 11.

The Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde presided as Carter’s casket was ushered into the cathedral, observed by dignitaries and all living presidents. Her words echoed: “Let us also pray for all who mourn, that they may cast their care on God and know the consolation of his love.”

Later that day, the same casket would find its way into the humble pine wood church, Maranatha Baptist, in Plains, Georgia. There, a simpler service with familiar faces—friends and neighbors Carter had known all his life—would gather to say goodbye.

In both services, one grand and the other modest, there will likely be a shared refrain: Jimmy Carter’s faith mirrored American ideals, particularly the belief that “we are all created equal in the image of God.”

We are all created equally. We face suffering equally. Whether the wind howls, the rain menaces, the earth quakes, or fires rage, destruction and loneliness do not discriminate. To move closer to a more perfect union, we must embrace empathy. It is my hope that in places as different as rich limestone cathedrals and honest pinewood chapels, empathy and humanity can coexist.

I challenge all writers to help restore empathy in the world.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

Originally posted 2025-01-14 14:10:00.

The Five-Minute High. Writers, you know that glorious feeling when you finally hit Send? Enjoy it. Because in about five minutes, you’re going to remember everything you should’ve changed.

Euphoria: The Joy of Hitting Send

There’s a particular state of euphoria that happens when a writer finally hits Send.

If you follow authors on social media—and hopefully you’re following me—you’ve seen us post about this magical, mythical thing called THE END.

We celebrate it. We take pictures of it. We announce it to the world.

And it is absolutely worth celebrating.

But here’s the secret: the end isn’t really the end.

It’s not the end until that book is published and out into the world.

Still, one of the greatest moments in this entire process is when you attach that finished version of the document to your Trad editor’s email or if your Indie to your developmental or line editor’s email, and hit Send.

There is nothing quite like it.

Before the Euphoria

Let me back up for those who don’t know my process.

I write the book, but I also work with a personal editor—someone who knows my gifts, knows my weaknesses, and, most importantly, knows how to push me.

That editor is actually the first person who really sees the book.

They see it as pages in the rawest, ugliest version. The version where someone has to say, “Girl, what were you thinking? I cannot get from A to Z with this.”

Sometimes it’s not that bad.

Sometimes it absolutely is.

But that relationship matters. One of my editors has been with me for twenty-nine of my books. Think about that. They know my writing. They know what I’m capable of.

That’s part of my process.

Your process may look completely different.

And that is exactly how it should be. Whatever it is, you work that process and finish.

You Have to Get to the End

For me, I have to hit the end.

I need to write the book from beginning to end before I can step back and ask the most important question:

What is this book really about?

Now, if you’ve been following me for any length of time, you know I am a serial outliner, serial timeline maker, serial spreadsheet girly.

I do in-depth character analysis. I chart tension arcs. I study character journeys. I build character profiles. I work through scenes. And we haven’t even started talking about the historical research. That is an entirely different bucket.

I do all of that work.

And yet something organic still happens during the writing.

Some arcs I imagined at the beginning become sharper and more important. Others disappear. A theme that seemed small suddenly becomes the heartbeat of the entire book. A character reveals something I didn’t fully understand when I started.

That’s why I need to reach the end.

Only then can I look backward and ask: What journey did I actually put these characters through? What changed? What survived? What is this story saying?

Sometimes the answer is a deeper version of what I thought the book was about.

Sometimes it is something completely different.

But I cannot fully know until I get to the end.

Stop Polishing Those First Three Chapters

When I was a young writer, I would polish and polish and polish those first three chapters.

Then I would polish them some more.

Now?

Let’s just call me a pro.

I know better.

There is more than a fifty-percent chance that the synopsis I write before I start a book is not going to be the synopsis of the book I actually finish.

That original synopsis is an educated guess. It is based on facts, research, character work, structure, and everything else I know at that moment.

But it is still a guess.

By the time I hit the end, I finally know what book I wrote.

And then one of my favorite parts of the process begins.

Editing.

That is when we spit-shine the prose.

That is when I deepen the dialogue so the words say what I need them to say while the subtext whispers everything the characters aren’t willing to admit.

That is when I paint the house.

That is when I put clothes on the characters—and those clothes need to do more than look pretty.

Jane Austen understood that. Clothing can tell us about accomplishment, aspiration, money, status, personality, and how someone wants the world to see them. Is this a person of high style? Or did they just roll out of bed?

Every detail should carry meaning.

But I don’t necessarily know what the meaning should be until I know the whole story.

Sprint to the End

So, to every writer out there struggling to finish the book, my advice is simple:

Finish the book.

Work in sprints.

Write out of order.

Write the scenes in your head that are so vivid you can practically see the characters standing in front of you.

Get words onto the page.

You can stitch them together later.

Don’t spend months polishing something when you don’t even know whether it belongs in the final book.

Sprint toward the end.

Dirty write.

Put down the thoughts. Put down the dialogue. Put down enough description to remind yourself what is happening.

Literally, anything can be fixed when you have reached the end.

Why I Work With a Personal Editor

People sometimes ask why I work with a personal editor.

Some writers use critique groups, and critique groups can be wonderful. But they can also be hit or miss, and sometimes the problem is simply timing. You need feedback now.

I’d rather have an established relationship with someone I trust—someone who knows my abilities and understands the kinds of stories I’m trying to tell.

Unfortunately, once you submit the manuscript to your publishing editor, you don’t necessarily know what you’re going to get.

I’ve had great editors.

I’ve had…editors.

I’ve had manuscripts go straight to copyedits.

I’ve also rewritten whole books in copyedits.

Don’t try that at home. It makes people mad. (Even when the rewrite gets a starred review.)

But at the end of the day, your name is on that book.

The story needs to say what you intended it to say. The message needs to be the message you meant to deliver.

So sometimes you have to do what you have to do.

And Then I Hit Send

Last week, I had one of those euphoric weeks. I’m dancing. Enjoying life. I’d hit send.

And it was glorious for approximately five minutes.

Because five minutes later, I thought of something else I could add.

Not quite so glorious.

But that’s publishing.

Luckily, there’s a long journey between the book you turn in and the book that is finalized and ready for print. You’ll have opportunities to tweak things. You’ll have opportunities to sharpen things.

And I love that process.

In fact, after all of this work, I cannot wait to start the next book.

That’s the joy of writing.

That’s my joy in telling stories.

know what a privilege it is to be able to do this—to write these books and to come here every week and tell you what’s going on inside my head, and hopefully I am giving you a little encouragement along the way.

Keep Finding the Hope

Because the world can feel pretty dark.

I’m sending prayers and blessings to Gary, Indiana, and to everyone who is suffering.

I’m sending hope to those who are sick and those caring for sick relatives.

I’m sending inspiration to everyone who feels desperate, exhausted, or is simply tired of carrying what they’re carrying.

And I’m going to repeat something I said last week: if you are feeling like you’re on the edge, please get help. Reach out to someone who can help you. You are worthy of that help.

There is hope.

Keep looking for it.

And Now, Book Number 31

By this time next week, book number thirty-one will be out in the world.

That’s right.

Another Lady Worthing Mystery.

And this one is Murder in St. James’s Park.

We started with Murder in Westminster, where you first met Lady Worthing.

Then came Murder in Drury Lane, where you watched her work a murder case in one of her favorite haunts.

Book three was Murder in Berkeley Square, where she found herself stuck in a blizzard with a collection of very rich people, all didn’t deserve to make it out alive.

But Lady Worthing survived.

Her gang of friends—her found family—survived.

And now we have Murder in St. James’s Park.

Lady Worthing has been experiencing a few marital difficulties.

Let’s just say…

That might not be the case by the end of this book.

And for those of you who know St. James’s Park, remember: it’s right behind her house.

I’m giving you clues.

So if you haven’t already, go purchase your copy of Murder in St. James’s Park. Tell your library about it. Request it. Read it. Talk about it.

And then come back and tell me what you think.

In the meantime,

Be blessed.

Keep writing.

Keep reading.

And most of all, keep finding the hope.

Get these books from Bookmiser. They will have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea and Murder in St. James’s Park, because I am doing an event with them, and the FRIENDS OF THE SANDY SPRINGS LIBRARY

Saturday, August 29, 2026

2:00-3:30 p.m.

Sandy Springs Library – Call (770) 509-5611 for more info or to reserve a signed copy.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com, under the podcast link in the About tab.

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. I need you. That is the truth. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

It started innocently enough. I’d been away for a weekend of trips. Monday morning, I thought, Let me check my email. That’s when the onslaught began.

A note — a perfectly polite one — popped to the top:

“Hi Vanessa,Thank you for writing such a wonderful story. I’d love to share my thoughts on Goodreads and help more people discover it.Warm regards,Rachel.”

Thank you, Rachel. I don’t know what book you read that moved you to writeright me (yes, she wrote right), but thanks.

I kept going through my emails, and Rachel wrote again.

“Hi there,Are you around? If you’re interested in getting the review, just reply with the word ‘Review.’ I’ll take it from there!”

Now, I already suspected Rachel was a bot. But Miss Rachel wasn’t done. She sent another message — and this time, she rudely implied that I’d missed a deadline.

In the entirety of my writing career, I’ve missed exactly one deadline. One. There have been times when I’ve needed more time, but I’ve always negotiated that weeks, sometimes months, in advance. The only time I ever truly missed a deadline — by two weeks — was during COVID, when everyone in my household (and extended family) caught it. It was stressful. I’m a Type A engineer by training, and believe me, that editor reminds me of it to this day.

But I digress.

As writers, we already have enough pressure. The market is shifting. Publishing lines are tightening. The expectation that social media alone can move huge swaths of books is both ridiculous and still the fairy dust traditional publishing counts on. And beyond all that pressure — the bots are coming for us.

So instead of holding a séance for spam or blocking every Gmail address with numbers in it, I decided to sic one robot on another. Thus began the latest episode in my ongoing saga: Robot vs. Robot: The War of the AI Cousins.

Now I’ve had my run in with Chat – please listen to Season 1: Episode 42 – AI Can’t Fake the Funk or the Fire. And you’ll see AI it’s everywhere.

So, I started by feeding these bot emails into ChatGPT. I wanted to see what it would say about its more mischievous relatives.

Take “Lilia C. Oram,” for example — a self-proclaimed Book Marketing Specialist who wrote me an essay-length love letter about my novel Queen of Exiles.

Her message read like a Ph.D. dissertation in flattery:

“Your novel Queen of Exiles is an exquisite and triumphant reimagining of Haiti’s Queen Marie-Louise Covidavid Christophe…”

Can’t you just hear the B.S. in that framing? She continued with alliteration worthy of a thesaurus marathon:

“With the right strategy, this extraordinary story can reach readers and institutions that celebrate narratives of resistance, identity, and freedom…”

Then, naturally, came the sales pitch — A+ Content Optimization, Goodreads Listopia placement, Amazon keyword targeting. In short, every SEO buzzword known to humankind.

ChatGPT barked and said:

Red Flags:

* Overly formal “praise-bomb” introduction.

* Immediate pivot to services.

* Fake “strategy” jargon — terms like “visual storytelling campaigns,” “Goodreads Listopia placement,” and “Amazon A+ content optimization” are standard scam-bait phrases. None of those services require outside contractors, and many are impossible or against Goodreads/Amazon policy.

* Generic Gmail addresses — a real agency would email from a company domain.

* Unrealistic promises — “global recognition,” “reach institutions,” “connect with readers of The House of Eve.” All empty marketing fluff.

My goodness, ChatGPT. I like your style. You’re kind of blatant.

The Booker Prize Blunder

Then came Imran. According to his email, he ran “The Booker Prize Longlist Book Club.”

Now, the real Booker Prize is one of literature’s jewels. So when “Imran” wrote to say his club was “captivated by The Bone Thief” and wanted to feature me in an upcoming author session, I nearly spat out my tea.

There were several problems. First, I didn’t write The Bone Thief. That’s Vanessa Lillie. And second, The Bone Thief did not win the Booker Prize — that was The Bone People by Keri Hulme in 1985. Well, I’ll be. I guess the bot thought all the Vanessas and people with bone books were the same.

ChatGPT wasn’t having it:

* You didn’t write The Bone Thief.A real literary book club — especially one invoking the Booker Prize — would never confuse your work with another author’s. This was a mass email sent to hundreds of writers using scraped names and random book titles.

* “The Booker Prize Longlist Book Club” doesn’t exist.The real Booker organization has an official site and verified socials. They don’t cold-email authors, and they never host “open author sessions” via random Gmail accounts.

* No institutional email address.If it’s not from @thebookerprizes.com or @bookerprizefoundation.org, it’s not real.

* The tone is suspiciously perfect.Words like captivated, haunting, moral complexity, and honored to host you — pure AI-generated flattery.

* The setup leads to a hook.If you reply, you’ll probably get a follow-up asking for a “booking fee,” “Zoom production support donation,” or “press kit submission cost.” That’s the classic second-step scam.

ChatGPT’s advice was simple:

* Don’t reply. Any engagement confirms your email is active.

* Mark as spam or phishing — it helps your provider learn.

* Report impersonations to the real organizations being mimicked.

When the Bots Come Marching In

If you’re an author, chances are you’ve met a bot like Imran, Lilia, or Rachel. They’re part of a growing spam ecosystem aimed squarely at creatives — the AI-powered, copy-paste, faux-professional outreach bot.

They know how to flatter. They know how to mimic sincerity. They even sprinkle in the occasional Oxford comma to seem literate.

So I asked Chat, what are we going to do about your cousins?”

And to its credit, ChatGPT turned into a snitch:

Chat said the following are tells:

* Vague praise.

* Immediate offer. They pivot fast to “services,” “placements,” or “features.”

* Gmail or Outlook addresses. No legitimate organization uses liliacoram64@gmail.com.

* Unrealistic promises. “Global recognition” is not a measurable Key Peformance Indicator.

* Keyword spells. “Just reply with the word REVIEW.” (Only bots or IG marketers talk like this.)

This is the new reality. I used to fear that robots would take my jobs.Now, I see they are being employed to spam my inboxes. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

But in a strange way, these exchanges remind me that technology, for all its intelligence, still lacks instinct. The bots can simulate empathy, but they can’t feel the exhaustion of 3 a.m. revisions, the fear of missing deadlines, or the desperation of wanting sincere recognition for our hard work.

They don’t know what it means to live a life of creative — only how to market badly to a creator.

Final Advice to Fellow Authors from a thug’s cousin, ChatGpt:

* Never click.

* Never reply.

* Always verify before you believe.

* And if the flattery is too good, assume it’s fake. No one writes that flowery for free.

And this is from Vanessa – remember your work is worthy of praise and real emails. Don’t give up or give space to the bots.

Books to help on our writing journey are:

5‑Minute Book Marketing for Authors: Great for if you’re short on time but still want consistent effort.

Book Marketing for Authors: Get Ready, Get Set, Succeed!: A solid all-round guide for authors transitioning from writing to marketing.

And of course the books mentioned by the bots:

The Bone Thief by Vanessa Lillie When a Native teenager vanishes from her small town—a place with dark ties to an elite historical society—archaeologist Syd Walker is called to investigate…from bestselling author Vanessa Lillie.

The Bone People, A Booker Prize Winner by Keri Hulme is a novel about the complicated relationships between three outcasts of mixed European and Maori heritage

The House of Eve by Sadeqa Johnson explores what it means to be a woman and a mother in the 1950s, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.

This week, I’m highlighting The Book Worm Bookstore through their website and Bookshop.org

We are three months away from Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build the momentum for this historical fiction. Please spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about lady pirates in the 1600s. They are women, many our Black and Indigenous. All want a better way of life. Piracy is legal. It’s their answer. It’s their prayer. This saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title. Get the collector cards. Who is on your crew?

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast.

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

If you’re ready to move with purpose and power, hit that like button and subscribe and share Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We have work to do. And I need You on my team.

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

Originally posted 2025-10-21 13:10:00.

For the past five years, I’ve embraced the practice of choosing a word to frame my year. The selection serves as a calling card, a guiding principle to reflect upon and shape my actions and mindset.

My husband suggested tuna. Yes, you heard me—tuna. Lord bless him. He’s cute and a keeper, but tuna? Wanting to be gutted and stuffed in a metal tin is not what I want on 2025’s bingo card.

My previous words have included:

* Bold: A year of stepping out of my comfort zone.

* Happiness: A focus on joy and gratitude.

* Peace: Seeking tranquility and balance.

* Yes: Inspired by Shonda Rhimes’ Year of Yes: How to Dance It Out, Stand in the Sun, and Be Your Own Person, I committed to saying yes to new opportunities and challenges.

Shonda says, “The most important thing you can do is to keep saying yes. Saying yes opened up my life in ways I could never have predicted. It was a powerful force.”

The “yes” opportunities, even those that feel outside our comfort zones, can lead to transformation and success beyond our wildest dreams. I’m a writer. I love wild, unimaginable dreams.

My Year of Yes was 2019. Despite my skepticism and hesitation, I said yes to some things that ended up changing the trajectory of my career. I began dabbling in and studying mystery and suspense, saying yes to writing new genres and new POVs.

I wrote the big book, Island Queen, that I never thought would be contracted or published. The power of yes and being open is unmatched. Could 2025 be a repeat Year of Yes?

Well, yes and no. I’m in a different place—mentally, physically, even spiritually. My faith is strong, but I feel loss so deeply. I can’t put my finger on it, nor is it just one thing—but it’s gone.

Part of that feeling comes from what I witnessed. Last year unveiled sides of humanity I didn’t want to see. People who should be natural allies were torn apart by self-interest or self-hate. The reality of progress, which I once believed to be within reach, now feels like an illusion. We are not our brothers’ or sisters’ keepers—not when eggs are $9.00. Or when I wrongfully believe that helping another living, breathing soul somehow takes from me.

2025, you had me screaming into the void, only for it to suck away the sound. My tears can’t be heard. I need a word that will pull me away from the void—the endless hole called cynicism. I need it to help me rebuild.

I know I’m not alone in this. My closest friends and I still gather to discuss, pray, and believe for something better. Yet, the weariness persists, and I can see myself calling out, “Prayers, prayers, sorrows,” for everything outside my circle.

I need a new word. I take comfort in knowing that finding a word for inspiration is an exercise as old as time.

Historical Timeline of Setting Yearly Intentions

* Babylonian Origins (~2000 BCE): The Babylonians made promises to their gods to do good deeds, seeking favor for the coming year.

* Roman Influence (46 BCE): With the Julian calendar, Romans made resolutions on January 1, with promises of improvement and good moral conduct.

* Peacock Vows (6th–15th Century): In the medieval period, knights participated in the “peacock vow,” an annual pledge to maintain their chivalric code.

* Religious Resolutions (~15th Century): Early Christians were encouraged to reflect on past mistakes and resolve to improve in the new year.

* Modern Secularization (18th Century): Under Protestant influence, resolutions began emphasizing personal accountability and self-improvement.

* The Akan People and Adinkra Symbols (~19th Century–1818): The Akan people of West Africa chose Adinkra symbols to guide them for the year, such as:

* Nkyinkyim (initiative/dynamism)

* Eban (protection/security)

* Victorian Era (19th Century): Making New Year’s resolutions became a widespread practice in Western culture.

* Germany’s Word of the Year (1971): The Gesellschaft für deutsche Sprache (Society for the German Language) selects a “Word of the Year” to reflect social and cultural trends. For 2024, they chose “Ampel-Aus” or “traffic light shutdown,” referencing Germany’s coalition collapse.

* Self-Help Movement (1980s–1990s): Choosing a word at the beginning of the year gained popularity, encouraging focus on a single concept to guide actions.

* Modern Popularity (2000s+): Mindfulness and productivity proponents like Gretchen Rubin (author of The Happiness Project) spread the idea of guiding words over traditional resolutions.

* One Word Movement (2010): The book, One Word That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton, and Jimmy Page, brought global attention to the concept.

So, from a historical perspective—whether inspired by faith, adventure, the need to organize, or focus—we’ve all been searching for a word to help us get our acts together.

It’s still hard. Disappointment and fear make us want to stand still and watch the world burn. In Isaiah 40:31, the text speaks to a desire for the Lord to renew our hope. I want hope. I want to feel it and again soar on wings like eagles. I want to run and not grow weary. I want to laugh and not fear what comes next.

Thanks for reading Vanessa Riley’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex, says, “The most important thing we can all do for ourselves is leave room for magic.” Like Shonda, Meghan encourages us to remain open to the unexpected, the unknown, and make space for magic. Magic leads to hope, and hope leads to the greatest possibilities.

But hope isn’t my word, 2024 took care of that. Hope is a state of being. To me, it’s not an action. It feels passive and implies waiting. Nobody has time for that.

My Word for 2025

This year, my word is Dare. According to Webster’s dictionary, “dare” means to have the courage to do something or to challenge oneself. I chose this word because it encapsulates my desire to:

* Double-dare myself to face fears and doubts.

* Stretch beyond the boundaries I’ve grown comfortable within.

* Embrace risks that could lead to transformative growth.

Daring Myself to DoAs I step into 2025, I dare myself to flee apathy. I dare myself to let my deeds shine brighter, to be bigger and bolder than ever before. This year, I will embrace more risks, more words, more watching, more praying—all while holding onto hope. At times, I will rest, so I can rise with renewed strength. The fire within me hasn’t been extinguished. It still smolders. It burns for you and for me—for what we could become.

In these uncertain times, with bombings, terrorism, and tariffs on the horizon, I’ve chosen to take control of my personal narrative. Writing about strong women who overcome extraordinary challenges reminds me that I, too, can dare to be bold, dare to be resilient, and dare to be fully myself.

I encourage you to choose your word. Let it be a balm for your soul. Make it your battle cry to achieve something greater—even in moments of disillusionment. I dare you. I double dog dare you to win—for yourself and those you hold dear.

Books Mentioned in this Podcast:

Year of Yes: How to Dance It Out, Stand in the Sun, and Be Your Own Person by Shonda Rhimes

The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin

That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton, and Jimmy Page

Island Queen by Vanessa Riley

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

Originally posted 2025-01-07 15:07:16.

I’ve done it.

Last week, I told you I was on deadline, and now I am free. That is right—I have finished my 32nd book.

I turned it in to my publisher. It will be my next historical fiction, coming in at 105,000 words, and I am so excited.

I did something I’ve never done before. Multiple POVs. Caribbean history blended with American history. I have cars and horse-drawn carriages. Letters written and sealed under wax. Candlelight and electric lights.

I can’t give you much more detail yet, but it is my brand—a powerful saga, women-centric, with women doing things we need to know about, finding rooms they weren’t supposed to be in and pushing forward questions we all should be asking and answering.

So I should be coming out of deadline talking about nothing but joy.

But at the same time, one of the most disconcerting things has been happening.

There is always nonsense going on in the book sphere, the academic sphere, and the tech sphere—the three worlds I pay a lot of attention to.

And this past week, it was academia.

There was a young Black professor at Cambridge named Jason Arday. He was not a perfect person. None of us are. But he suddenly became the center of accusations of plagiarism and an enormous public storm.

In a matter of days, it became a nightmare in the press.

An investigation by NewsCord, which I will link her, counted every substantive and distinct article about Jason Arday from July 24 through August 14, 2026. Their count was:

* 249 articles in 22 days

* 188 articles in the final nine days—from his August 5 resignation through August 14

* That’s an average of 20.9 articles per day

Article after article. Imagine the tons of social-media impressions fueled by this much press. People attacked him, defending him, picked him apart. 9 days, his final 9 day, 188 articles.

That looks like a digital lynching.

It must feel like that.

And it proves something I’ve talked about: when somebody has a grievance, when somebody needs a scapegoat, why so often a Black neck, a POC neck, or a woman’s neck becomes a doormat to step on.

Today, I don’t want to use my words to talk about what happened to Jason Arday.

I want you to hear his family’s words.

While the rest of the world was debating a professor’s humanity, they watched someone they loved go through this storm.

Now they are grieving him.

This has been an incredibly painful time for our family, and we are still coming to terms with the tragic loss of our beloved Jason. What has become clear over the past 72 hours is the profound impact he had on people.

We are grateful to all who have created light in this dark time through kindness, generosity and solidarity. Your presence here to remember him this evening means a lot to us, and while we cannot be there in person, please know that we stand with you in spirit.

The public cruelty Jason was subjected to was too much for any man to bear. The outpouring of love, support and grief since his death means so much to us, although it is bittersweet. Kindness is needed in life, not just in death. We’ll never know what might have been different had he experienced more of it while he was still here.

What we do know is how deeply he was loved, and we wish to especially thank those who knew Jason in life and tried to get through to him, who supported him in his darkest hour, and who saw the person in the middle of this awful storm.

If you would like to share a message of condolence, memory, or support with Jason Arday’s family, please do so using this contact:

TheArdayFamily@gmail.com

No book recs today. I want to publicize a legitimate Go Fund Me for his family.

https://gofund.me/ce60c7ec0

And if you are struggling with your mental health:

In the United States:

Call or text 988, the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. It is available 24 hours a day.

In the United Kingdom and Ireland:

Call Samaritans at 116 123, free, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.

In England:

For urgent mental-health help, call NHS 111 and select the mental-health option.

If someone’s life is in immediate danger, call emergency services—911 in the United States or 999 in the United Kingdom.

If you are worried about somebody, ask about them. Help them connect with professional support.

Kindness is needed in life, not just in death.

Let’s be better and have a better week.

* Support your local bookstores, especially your indies.

You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com, under the podcast link in the About tab.

Hey. Let’s keep building together. I need you. That is the truth. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe