We all want to belong.

Whether it’s for our intellect, our stance, or even our looks, we yearn to be chosen—for who we are, or for who we might become.

We hope for a fair assessment of our gifts, talents, hard work, and ethics.

So when we’re overlooked, dismissed, or flat-out ignored, it hurts. It feeds our doubts. When it’s pervasive, it claws at our pride like eagles’ talons, stripping us down until there’s nothing left but scabs.

We smile. We send off polite emails and make gracious calls, pretending it doesn’t matter. We lift our chins and say, “You are not worthy of my time—or even my presence.”

But in secret, we ache. We bleed anew—reliving the cost of the blood, sweat, and tears it took to get here. We question ourselves. What else could I have done? Who did I offend? Where is that sense of American bravado—the belief that if I build it, they will come?

In publishing, this ache to belong is ever-present. Facing rejection after rejection, often without a clear reason, cuts deeply. A “no” in publishing doesn’t always come with feedback. Sometimes it just means you’re stuck in midlist limbo. When opportunities vanish, imprints dissolve, or priorities shift, you’re left holding an unwanted manuscript and a pile of broken promises.

At the Southern Independent Booksellers Alliance New Voices New Rooms Conference, I listened to keynote speaker Silas House—a New York Times bestselling author and winner of two Nautilus Awards—say something that struck deeply:“There are many ways to burn books (that don’t require matches)—one of them is by denying them space, visibility, and readers.”

Sometimes rejection doesn’t come as a loud no. Sometimes it’s silence. Unanswered emails. Delays. Misdirection. But even a quiet “no” is still a no. And it shapes your experience. It can limit you.

Quiet no’s make it hard to trust. Even future yes’s become suspect.

Every author dreams of a beautiful cover that captures the soul of their story. We long for an editor’s offer that affirms our voice. We want a marketing and sales team working in partnership with us to push our books into the hands of hundreds, thousands—maybe millions.

So no, it’s not enough to just get a book deal. We want a seat at the table. Because a publishing contract without editorial support, marketing strategy, or visibility often isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.

It’s like being proposed to with a ring, but instead of a grand wedding with a 25-foot train of lace and sequins, you’re rushed to City Hall under gray skies, muttering quick vows with no photos to prove it ever happened.

Fire Sword and Sea is my 29th book. While that’s a triumph worth celebrating, it’s also a sobering reminder of what I’ve learned—the good, the bad, and the anemic.

Silas House also said, “Artists from gated places have to act as role models.” And from my experience, I’ll tell you this: you are worth courting. You’re not a cheap date. When access is limited, our very presence becomes defiance. Our work becomes resistance.

Our words—through books, essays, podcasts—speak truth to power. Our stories are meant to light the dark.

At that same conference, Angie Thomas and Nic Stone joined the conversation. Two beautiful authors, who it seems, some want to take their seats away. They referenced Beyoncé, who said: “Never ask for permission for something that belongs to you.”

That’s the truth at the heart of this essay.

We’ve been asking for a seat—as if our worth needs outside validation. As if we need permission to matter.

Stop asking. Stop waiting.

You already built your chair—with your words, your work, your presence. You’ve earned your place.

Yes, we want a public seat. It’s about power, visibility, and the right to shape the narrative. I get that, but I challenge you to claim your worth, understand you have built your chair with your work, and that you have the right to sit without asking anyone for permission.

Books to help you recognize your chair:

A Parchment of Leaves – Silas House

Silas House’s A Parchment of Leaves (2002) is a beautifully rendered novel about Appalachian life, loyalty, and cultural dislocation.

Dear Martin – Nic Stone

Nic Stone’s Dear Martin is a powerful, unflinching novel that explores race, identity, and justice through the eyes of a Black teen who begins writing letters to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. after a traumatic encounter.

The Hate U Give – Angie Thomas

Angie Thomas’s breakout debut The Hate U Give (2017) centers on Starr Carter, who bridges two worlds and finds her voice amid systemic injustice.

This week, I’m highlighting Hub City Books through their website and Bookshop.org

Hope you love the cover of Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build momentum for this historical fiction. Please spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about lady pirates in the 1600s. This sweeping saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title.

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.

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

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