For two years, through disappointment, anger, and fear, I kept writing. I used my platform and my voice to encourage and empower. Then we went to the polls—and made a tsunami.
I Didn’t Wait for Joy to Write
By Vanessa Riley
Last week on this podcast, I urged everyone to vote. I built a timeline stretching from the early 1800s to the present, remembering what was at stake and who fought, bled, and died for our right to walk into a polling place anywhere in this country and vote for the leaders we want.
And on November 3, 2026, that is exactly what you did.
People all over the country, whether voting early or on Election Day, made their voices heard. A seismic shake-up happened in the halls of Congress, in statehouses, and in local elections.
People demanded change. They showed up and despite pundits and polls decisively voted for change.
It was interesting to watch the pundits who had laughed off the possibility—the ones who didn’t think you would get out of bed or care enough about your community to complete a ballot and cast a vote. Many discounted Black voters in places where huge populations in South have suffered from disenfranchisement and disillusion.
Yet across the South, the voiceless wanted a voice. The pundits missed the voter registration drives. They discounted the pain you and I felt every time we filled up our cars or went to the grocery store.
And they underestimated everyone, everywhere who’d become fed up with the status quo, the rigged system.
As a creative, these past two years have been difficult. You’ve heard my rants, my railings, my hurt, and my disappointment over what looked like America choosing hatred, violence, and even retribution against anyone who stood in the way.
We watched Black women lose jobs and become targets. We heard the disillusionment in military communities over firings at the VA. We saw an atmosphere that encouraged people to turn on their neighbors.
It’s been a dark time.
And writers like me watched people pull away from history. We watched publishers back away from historical stories and authors who craved to tell them. Many presses began to cater to the parts of this country who didn’t want to read about the truth about its past.
I’m not going to lie. It’s been difficult.
I’ve seen imprints wipe out their entire lists of Black women storytellers. I’ve watched people who swore they stood for justice, equality, and inclusion in 2020 go silent.
I think the silence has been the most painful part.
Then came the irony.
When the people in power finally targeted their class, their culture, their race, or their community, some of those same silent people were ready to run into the streets. And they were offended that others stayed home and watched on television.
But some of us had seen this play out before.
Those of us who study history recognized the pattern. Many of us have parents and grandparents who told us how things go when people get desperate—and how easily fear can be turned into a weapon.
And the women who’ve taken the brunt, lost the most jobs, the most contracts—they healed and organized. Like minded joined the efforts, now we will have a congress that looks like America.
And my governor, here in Georgia is named Keshia.
I saw a picture of the incoming senators arriving on Capitol Hill for orientation, and it looked like the America I missed.
There were older faces laughing with new ones. A man in a wheelchair. A Muslim and a minister, swapping stories together. Women from different backgrounds. People openly proud of who they are and whom they love.
Everybody was there.
And what touched me the most was the possibility of all those people getting to work for the American people.
I won’t say, “America’s back.” I’m wise enough to know this will be a long journey. The old guard that wants us hating one another is still here, probably angrier than before.
But I have a renewed sense of joy.
There’s a measure of peace in believing that attempts to strip away more rights will be met with a determined ethical fight. There’s hope that we can get out of unjustified wars. I believe costly tariff battles will end. Then we can all turn with calm, reasoned voices and debate what people need.
That is my hope.
As a writer, this is the happiest I’ve been in two years. The fear of the history I love being banned has lessened.
My pen has been working furiously and fervently on stories. When things looked dark, I kept writing. When things looked hopeless, I wrote more. When I needed somewhere to put the hurt, I came here and talked to y’all in an essay.
By 4:00 AM on the day after the election, I felt even more passionate about bringing you history.
But let me be clear: I did not wait for joy to write. I had no intention of slowing down. Writing gave me somewhere to put the questions, the anger, and the history I refused to let anybody erase.
Now I will continue knowing at least in this moment, history has its eyes on us and we won.
I’m excited for the future. I’m excited to be in an author coming out of the cloud of uncertainty, hatred, and spite. And I’m so proud that so many of us claimed our rights at the ballot box.
There is still work to do. There are still stories to tell.
And this week, I encourage you to sit down with me and write, and to do so with a little more hope about tomorrow.
This week’s book list includes the books on my 2027 TBR. I am a voracious reader, so there is mystery, romance, crime, and historical fiction releasing from authors like Ali Hazelwood and Alyssa Cole to S. A. Cosby, Toni Shiloh, and Wanda Morris. I’ve given you 29. Get busy.
* Abby Jimenez — Feels Like Falling
* Ali Hazelwood — The Two-Body Problem
* Alyssa Cole — It Takes a Village
* Brit Bennett — The Last Diva
* Cebo Campbell — Wells Without Water
* Danielle Allen — Necessary Roughness
* Emily Henry — Modern Classic
* Fiona Davis — The Jewel of Sugar Hill
* Freida McFadden — The Sleepwalker
* Idrissa Simmonds-Nastili — Backstitch
* J. L. Seegars — Reclaim Me
* Jojo Moyes — Three Sisters
* Kristina Forest — The Unrequited Love Department
* Kristin Hannah — The Fire
* Lauren Ling Brown — The Inheritance Thief
* Marie Benedict — The Witch of Wall Street
* Natashia Deón — Birds of War
* Nikki Payne — The Pro and the Con
* Nita Prose — Emerald Lake
* Percival Everett — Serious Music
* Rachel Reid — Unrivaled
* S. A. Cosby — Highway Full of Night
* Shara Moon — The Color of Sacrifice
* Taylor Jenkins Reid — The Last Days of Vic & Coco
* TJ Klune — The Stars Look Like Home
* Toni Shiloh — A Courtside Romance
* Valerie Wilson Wesley — Death Waits at the Hotel Olga
* Vanessa Miller — The Disgruntled Black Ladies Book Club
* Vanessa Riley — Fire Sword and Sea — 2027 paperback
* Wanda M. Morris — This Never Happens Here
And preorder them through The Book Worm, a Black-owned, woman-owned independent bookstore in historic downtown Powder Springs, Georgia. The Book Worm celebrates literacy, self-love, and a community as diverse as its bookshelves. Consider purchasing books to support the Book Worm through Bookshop.org links Or if you’re ever in Powder Springs, stop by, browse the shelves.
Remember to check my Resources Center on my website for my writing downloads. Lots of free and low-cost tools that I’ve made available to help you on your writing journey.
You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com, under the podcast link in the About tab.
If this podcast sparked something in you, show me some love—hit like, share the episode, and subscribe 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
