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

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.

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

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.

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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.

This marks the third week I’ve been at a conference or retreat—three weeks of sharing my craft and my conviction that writing can, and does, change the world.

This past week, I had the distinct privilege of speaking at the Jane Austen Society of North America’s Annual General Meeting (AGM) in Baltimore, Maryland. Picture it: nearly 800 devoted Janeites, many dressed in exquisite Regency attire, their hearts united by a love of Austen’s words and worlds. Together, we gathered to celebrate her 250th birthday, to attend lectures by leading Austen scholars, to browse through stalls of clever trinkets and custom editions—and, to my amazement, to hear my thoughts on Austen’s influence on modern storytelling.

I was invited to share my perspective on writing, on adaptations, and the enduring relevance of Jane Austen. As a historical consultant for Hallmark’s 2024 adaptation of Sense and Sensibility, I’ve had the rare opportunity to help bring Austen’s timeless wit and social commentary into our dialogue with today’s audiences. Standing before hundreds of Austen lovers, I found myself reflecting not only on her genius but on how far the literary community—and I—have come.

If you had asked me five, even three, years ago whether I could imagine speaking at JASNA, I would have said no. Those years were turbulent for many organizations grappling with questions of diversity and inclusion—questions about who gets to sit at the table, whose stories are valued, and whose aren’t.

The Romance Writers of America (RWA) suffered a painful implosion and has struggled to regain its footing. The Regency Fiction Writers (formerly The Beau Monde chapter) took a different path, embracing diversity—of membership, of stories, of the Regency itself—and has grown to over 400 members. And now, seeing JASNA’s visible efforts toward inclusion, I feel very hopeful. From what I witnessed this weekend, it seems as though the Society is choosing the right side of history, the one where everyone who loves Jane is welcomed.

When I took the stage in front of more than 700 people, I spoke about my Jane. Not the quaint figure of teacups and curtsies, but a woman aware of her world—a writer who knew not only of tea and indigo, but of war and enslavement. I spoke of the broader Regency landscape, of women like Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, who funded Kensington House a school for mixed-race girls on Marylebone Street in London, and of the Queen of Haiti, whose reign overlapped precisely with the English Regency. Austen’s world, I reminded, was never as small or as whitewashed as it’s often portrayed.

When I spoke of film adaptation, I shared how every detail—from hair and costume to script and set design—was chosen with intention on the Hallmark project. The goal was not to modernize Austen, but to honor her and plausibly expand the visible world, that Jane knew as evidenced by her own inclusion of marginalized characters.

We wanted to tell stories that reflect pride and power without bowing to prejudice. I think Hallmarks succeeded. Yet, when I showed Facebook responses to the announcement of the film and how vile or witless some can be, I told the audience that the power of adaptation is in their hands. How you respond, what you welcome, makes a difference.

On Thursday night, I sat with longtime JASNA members—women who have been part of the Society for ten, twenty, even thirty years. They insisted that the organization wasn’t just a bunch readers in costume; they were true believers in Austen’s ideals: of intelligence, integrity, and independence of thought.

If an organization is to thrive, its reach must be more than cosplay. It must open real seats at the table, and its members must open their hearts and minds, actively creating spaces for everyone to feel welcome.

I am deeply grateful—to the Jane Austen Society of North America for their warmth, their curiosity, and their courage to expand the conversation. This was so much more than an AGM; it was a celebration of Austen’s 250th birthday, and the exhibition of the living, breathing legacy she continues to inspire.

This week’s book list includes:

Jane Austen’s Emma: A Sourcebook edited by Paula Byrne – Read this to see how Austen’s most socially astute novel emerges from the same complex world of class, gender, and perception that still challenges us to write—and adapt—with awareness.

The Making of Jane Austen by Devoney Looser – This lively history reveals how Austen herself has been continually adapted and reimagined, proving that every era.

3. A Guide to Regency Dress: From Corsets and Breeches to Bonnets and Muslins by Hilary Davidson – Essential for understanding the textures and details that bring authenticity to any adaptation.

4. Jane Austen: Visual Encyclopedia by Claire Saim and Gwen Giret – A feast for the eyes and mind, this illustrated compendium shows how Austen’s world continues to inspire art, film, and storytelling.

This week, I’m highlighting Brave and Kind Bookshop through their website and Bookshop.org

The preorder campaign has begun, get your collector cards for Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build momentum for this historical fiction. Please ask your local library to carry this novel. Come on. It’s lady pirates in the 1600s. This saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers that are in on the campaign. Get the collector cards while supplies last.

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

Our stories matter—tap like, hit subscribe, share, and let’s keep this movement alive with Write of Passage.

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