About nine years ago, my husband, military man, went on several trips and took his camera.
He’s a wonderful amateur photographer — the kind who captures dozens and dozens of shots, each one filled with life and beauty… and then does absolutely nothing with them. Hence, the “amateur” part.
But I loved those photos. I was proud of him — of the way he saw the world through his lens. So one day, I picked three of my favorites, had them matted and framed, and was so excited to surprise him. I showed them to him, and he smiled, but somehow, we never found the right place to hang them.
And then, in 2016, our world turned upside down.
Within four months, I lost my mother and my aunt. My husband lost his grandfather, his uncle, and then his father. My mother and his father passed less than thirty days apart. Much of that year is a blur — a fog of grief and exhaustion. I remember canceling conferences, canceling plans, canceling everything.
At the time, I was still indie, and thankfully I didn’t have immediate deadlines. But I’d just signed a contract with Entangled, meaning books would be due the following year. I think having that distant goal — something on the horizon — kept me sane. Kept us sane.
But I never went back to hanging those pictures.
There’s something to be said about starting a project with the best intentions, only to have life — or death — interrupt it. Sometimes it’s loss, sometimes it’s chaos, and sometimes it’s just the price of eggs that knocks us off balance.
But at some point, we have to shake it all off and return to the dream.
We have to forgive ourselves for the delays, for the detours, for the times we needed to rest. Because rest matters. Detours matter. Reflection matters.
If you’re a Type A person like me, it’s hard to stop the world and say, “I’m hurting,” or “I can’t do this right now.” But we owe it to ourselves to take that pause — to grieve, to reflect, to forgive. Forgive the people who hurt us, forgive the ones who didn’t show up when we needed them, and forgive ourselves for stumbling.
And when we’re ready, we have to return. To the old normal. To the unfinished dream.
Today, I did that.
I cleaned the room I’ll forever call Grama’s Room — in honor of my mother — and I finally hung those pictures. After nine years.
And when my husband saw them, when he smiled with that quiet pride, I felt something shift. A bit of healing. A touch of restoration. The simple goodness of completion.
November is the month where many of us sit down to start something new — the next novel, memoir, self-help guide, or story that might bring hope and light to the world.
So, I say this: whatever dream you’ve set aside, whatever picture you’ve been meaning to hang, whatever story you’ve been dreaming of telling — go back to it.
It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. You still have another moment. Don’t waste it.
Look around. Find the dream that’s been waiting patiently for you. Get back to your first love — to the idea that once made you wake up smiling, that kept you up at night thinking, “What if I really could do this?”
Right now, I’m two months away from releasing Fire Sword and Sea. It took two years to write that book — two years of wrestling with story, of getting it right, of honoring the women who risked everything to chase a dream.
It’s brave. It’s daring. It’s a little bit crazy.
But sometimes, you have to be all three.
So I urge you: be a pirate. Command your own ship. Gather your crew. And finish your mission — whatever that may be.
This is Vanessa, giving you permission to forgive yourself, to pick up your sword, and to get going.
Oh — and hang those pictures, too.
This week’s booklist for the writers and the procrastinators:
Atomic Habits by James Clear — A practical guide to breaking bad habits and building consistent routines through tiny, incremental changes that compound into remarkable results.
The War of Art by Steven Pressfield — A powerful manifesto that exposes the internal “Resistance” keeping writers and creators from doing the work and shows how to overcome it with discipline and courage.
Finish: Give Yourself the Gift of Done by Jon Acuff — A witty, motivating look at why perfectionism kills progress and how embracing imperfection helps you actually complete what you start.
Living Forward by Michael Hyatt and Daniel Harkavy — A purposeful roadmap for designing a life plan that aligns daily actions with long-term vision, helping creatives reclaim time and focus.
Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes — A candid, joyful memoir about how saying “yes” to fear, opportunity, and authenticity transformed the creator of Grey’s Anatomy into a more confident and fulfilled version of herself.
This week, I’m highlighting Eagle Eye Book Shop through their website and Bookshop.org
Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Eagle Eye Eye or one of my partners in the fight, bookstore’s large and small who are in this with me.
We are two months away from 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. Thanks to shipping pirates—I’m out of physical arcs but Fire Sword and Sea is up on Edelweiss and NetGalley. So go get digital review copies.
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.
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Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
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