If you don’t recognize the phrase “Sexual Chocolate,” then you might be too young or too sheltered—or simply overdue for a viewing of Coming to America. The phrase hails from a hilarious moment in this 1988 cult classic when Prince Akeem (played by Eddie Murphy) attends a church service in Queens hoping to find a “good woman.”

He does find one—but not before the audience is treated to a cringe-worthy performance by a band called Sexual Chocolate, fronted by the deluded Randy Watson (also played by Eddie Murphy in disguise). Randy sings off-key, struts like a super star, and owns the moment.

He even drops the mic to a silent crowd. Except one diehard fan leaps to his feet, clapping and shouting, “That boy is good. That boy can sing!”

It’s iconic, ridiculous, and strangely affirming. Because in a world that’s often silent—or even worse, critical—every writer, every artist needs their own version of that one fan in the crowd. Every writer needs a little Sexual Chocolate.

In today’s publishing landscape, the pressure to produce, perfect, and promote your work can be overwhelming. The road is long, the milestones are often invisible, and the validation? It’s often non-existent.

And even those at the top of their game need well wishes and love. I send some now to Ali, a real advocate who has people so pressed that find fault over ridiculous things. Ali, you are love and light. Signed, your Atlanta Hype woman.

That’s where your hype person comes in. We need a cheerleader, someone who sees your potential even when your proses are shaky, your plot is flat, your characters are still finding their rhythm. These cheerleaders shout encouragement when you feel invisible. They believe in your words—even before they’re ready for the world.

But this kind of fandom isn’t just blind praise. We have rules.

Rule #1: Be Sensitive.

A good hype person knows the difference between when a writer is ready to hear feedback and when they just need a boost. Some days are for critique; others are for comfort. Sometimes what we need most is for someone to say, “Keep going. I see you. You’ve got this.”

Rule #2: Be Strategic.

Cheering doesn’t mean enabling bad decisions. Don’t let your writer friend send out a draft that isn’t ready. Don’t let them self-sabotage by skipping the hard (but necessary) parts of the process—like working with an editor, developing a marketing plan, or cultivating industry relationships. Praise their progress, yes. But also give gentle nudges to help them remember to do the work that success requires.

Rule #3: Know Their Creative Love Language.

Every writer is fueled by different things. Some need words of affirmation. Some need gifts (like good chocolate, please and thank you). Some need a like or share of a post. Some need you telling one person or one library about their books.

Others need quality time—just someone to sit with them in the mess and say, “You’re not alone.”

The truth is, even the strongest voices waver. Even the most confident writers have moments of doubt. That’s why it’s more important than ever to be a person in someone else’s corner. Check in on your writer friends. Call up the creatives. Remind them they’re not crazy for chasing the dream, battling blank pages, or daring to tell a story that hasn’t been told before.

So today, be someone’s fan. No matter how off-key they feel, your belief in them might be the thing that gets them through.

Now say it with me: That writer can write.

Some books to help us be better encouragers are:

Keep Moving by Maggie Smith it’s

a collection of affirmations and reflections that feel like encouragement from a friend.

Untamed by Glennon Doyle is especially for women creatives, teaching how to step into your power—and to surround yourself with people who cheer for you, the fully realized version of yourself.

The Light We Carry by Michelle Obama is not just for writers but this beautiful meditation offers hope and helps us navigating tough seasons.

This week, I’m highlighting Kindred Stories through their website and Bookshop.org

Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female 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 preorder.

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.

You can guess my love language? Go ahead and like this episode and subscribe to Write of Passage so you never miss a moment.

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

Whenever I finish writing a manuscript, there’s always this unexpected wave of sadness that hits me. It shouldn’t be unexpected. This is like my 27th or 28th book.

But yes. You heard me right—sadness.

Because now I’m done with these characters.

Characters I’ve lived with for three, sometimes four months. Characters whose voices echoed in my head, who made me laugh, who made me cry, and made me question everything. And once I’ve typed “The End,” there’s a sudden stillness. And in the silence, creep doubts:

“Could I’ve done this better?”

“What if I’d added one more scene?”

“Did I do them justice?”

But here’s the truth—you need to let it sit.

You need space. You need time.

You need to send it off to your editor, beta reader, or mother, and let someone else hold the story for a while, because you’ve been holding it close for too long. And when it comes back—marked with notes, questions, maybe even a few praises—you’ll be ready. You’ll have distance. And perspective to guide you.

Still… I get a little sad. Because I’ve grown attached.

My brain still wants to write more scenes, dream up alternate endings, give side characters more airtime. But the book is done when it’s done. There’s no need to stretch a moment or linger more than necessary.

⸻

With A Deal at Dawn, I’ve wrapped up the Betting Against the Duke series.

It’s been a journey.

• A Gamble at Sunset was Georgina’s story—a fake courtship that turned into something real, when she found her voice.

• A Wager at Midnight followed Scarlet, a woman fighting for public health alongside a handsome doctor and the complicated Duke we come to love.

• But A Deal at Dawn… this one’s different.

It’s a second chance romance, yes—but one that deals with what happens when forgiveness feels impossible. When tomorrow isn’t promised. It asks: what does happily ever after look like when you’re living with chronic, debilitating illness?

Maybe that’s why this book lingered. Because it’s heavy. It’s real with my trademark foolishness thrown in.

I want to be respectful of those finding themselves in this position. I want to tell a story that isn’t often told in historical romance. A story about two people—Jahleel and Katherine—who’ve made serious, tragic mistakes. Who are struggling. And yet… still worthy of love.

It was hard to write.

But I think you’re going to feel every bit of it.

⸻

Now that the manuscript is done, I ask myself:

What comes next?

The summer months are my time to dig into the “wish list” projects. Those ideas that won’t let go. Stories that whisper in the back of my mind. The ones I dream about while I’m supposed to be sleeping. Between conferences, revisions, and promo—it’s my time to play again.

But also… it’s hard not to look around at the world and feel the weight of everything. We’re pretty cooked.

The news? Bleak.

Protests are erupting. People suffering from natural disasters are being ignored. Prices rise. Patience runs low.

It’s like we’re all trapped in satan’s pressure cooker. I don’t want be chopped steak. I want off the menu. Please rewind the clock to a time when we were all filet mignon—delectable, tender by nature, and expensive by choice.

But I watched a reel the other day—just a young woman speaking truth.

She said:

“If our ancestors survived war, enslavement, displacement, disease…

If they survived laws written to break their spirits—

Then so can we.”

And she’s right. We have survived darker days.

So I have faith that we’re going to get our acts together.

That somehow, everything will shake out.

That it’s going to be okay again.

So take a deep breath with me—

Everything is going to be all right.

⸻

But in the meantime, preserve your mental health.

Hold close the things and people you cherish.

And let yourself rest. You’ve done a lot.

You are doing a lot.

And then—when you’re ready—start asking:

What’s next?

What project is going to consume you for the next three or four months?

Which story or idea wakes you wake up early?

What is it that keeps tugging at your thoughts like a child in want of attention. It needs nurturing.

It needs your love to be poured in to it. lt cries out for your energy, and clutches at your heart until it’s finally complete.

That’s where I’m headed.

That’s what I’m looking for right now.

Even while revising, promoting, preparing for launch days—I’m dreaming of that next passion.

And speaking of what’s next—I’ve been talking a lot about Fire Sword and Sea. We’re getting closer to a cover reveal, and I can’t wait for you to see how that story’s shaped up . It’s going to be a wild ride.

⸻

So, I’ll leave you with this:

Don’t give up.

Find that passion.

Let it move you, stretch you, heal you.

And when it shows up? Let it consume you—in the best possible ways.

Books to help us let go are:

Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life by Dani Shapiro. It’s a deeply personal meditation on writing, grief, self-doubt, and creative renewal.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. This is a classic that embraces imperfection, persistence, and yes, the sadness and relief of finishing a project.

Ordinary Notes by Christina Sharpe is not a traditional writing craft book, but it’s deeply reflective, exploring memory, loss, Black life, and the power of language. It’s perfect for writers processing the emotional weight of finishing something.

This week, I’m highlighting Detroit Book City through their website and Bookshop.org

Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female 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 preorder.

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.

Enjoying the vibe? Go ahead and like this episode and subscribe to Write of Passage so you never miss a moment.

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

Have you ever not known how empty you were—until a weekend of feasting showed you just how hungry you really are?

That was me, this weekend. I spent it in the company of 1,500 readers and fellow authors at the Black Romance Book Fest, and I left with my heart and spirit overflowing. Now, you might say, “Vanessa, I get your newsletter. I follow you on Instagram and Threads. I see the pictures. You go to a lot of events.” And yes, that’s true. I do. I’m the type who soaks everything in—the people, the place, the energy, the reason we gather.

But this? This was different.

When you’re marginalized, stepping into spaces where you’re one of only a handful can be daunting. I still remember sitting in a ballroom at an RWA conference, surrounded by people who wouldn’t meet my gaze—blue eyes turning away, avoiding eye contact as though acknowledgment might cost them something. In those moments, I’ve wished for a sign that read: Conversation is free. I don’t bite.

And then back in my hotel room, I’d recite poet Gwendolyn Brooks’s work, To Black Women. She begins with:

“Sisters,where there is cold silenceno hallelujahs, no hurrahs at all, no handshakes,no neon red or blue, no smiling faces prevail.”

It’s as if Gwendolyn herself had walked the conference floors with me. You learn to prepare yourself, to build armor against the lack of hurrahs, the absence of handshakes. You remind yourself that rejection isn’t always personal—people read what they relate to. Unless they choose to diversify, most gravitate toward characters who look like them or have shared lived experience. Unless, of course, if we’re talking werewolves or vampires—those stories get an all-access pass, while Black, brown, or queer stories are often left outside the gates.

And then there was this weekend.

At Black Romance Book Fest, no one turned away. People smiled. They hugged. They talked to everyone.

You heard Nice boots, cute T-shirt, Girl!!! those nails, and cool—a pirate costume, etc.

The halls were crowded with people, laughter, and cheer. Hallelujahs rang out online buddies met in real life. Hurrahs echoed down halls. It was a beautiful thing—to feel welcomed and seen in a space filled with so many faces who wanted to get you. There was a collective joy, an ease in being present, that’s hard to put into words, but you feel it. It vibrates across your skin and sinks into your soul.

The breadth of representation moved me. Every genre and subgenre had a seat at the table—fantasy, paranormal, historical, contemporary, romantic suspense. I remember chatting with a fantasy author who was stunned, and delighted, to see how many Black readers were there for fantasy and speculative fiction. No genre was out of bounds. Everything—every moment—felt welcoming and grounded in sisterhood and solidarity.

Of course, no event with 1,500 people and limited elevators can escape a little drama. But that’s every conference. I’ve experienced worse. I remember once, dressed in full Regency garb for a costume party, being stopped at the door because someone assumed—that I was in the wrong place. Apparently, I didn’t look like the kind of person who belonged in a Regency gown. That’s the kind of foolishness many of us with Black faces in literary spaces are familiar with. And unfortunately, it still happens, it just looks different—lack of support, lack of proper editing and marketing. Or simply turning the other way at a book signing. But that’s why I pour so deeply into my people, if you’ve made it this far, you are my people, but I especially want to bless the Black sisters who’ve supported me across every step of my career.

They honor that I write something different. They honor everyone who does. They uplift the wide spectrum of Black storytelling—because at the core of it all is love: love of beauty, love of self, love of each other. And that love creates room for fantasy, horror, sci-fi, thrillers, historicals—genres long denied to us but reclaimed through our voices, our pens, and our varying visions.

Gwendolyn Brooks ends her poem with these lines of quiet hope:

“But there remain large countries in your eyes.Shrewd sun.The civil balance.The listening secrets.And you create and train your flowers still.”

This weekend helped me remember my own gardens. That I can conquer large territories or conferences. Black Romance Book Fest refreshed my soul. It restored my balance. It reminded me that I’m still called to create and train my flowers. That even in the face of rejection or erasure, there are places for my stories—and yours.

To my fellow authors: you’re not crazy. Your readers are out there. They are waiting, hungry for what only you can bring. And they’ll be (mostly) patient while you take the time you need to grow and train your flowers.

Because they believe in the bloom that’s coming. And so do I.

Books to help us to grow and train our minds are:

To Black Women by Gwendolyn Brooks, it can be found in the public domain, but

A Street in Bronzeville by Gwendolyn Brooks is available. It’s her debut collection. It that features poems of everyday life with dignity, tenderness, and piercing realism.

For Read Caribbean Month I recommend,

How to Say Babylon by Safiya SinclairA searing memoir about a Rastafarian girl finding her voice against a backdrop of patriarchy.

And lastly, I am asking for your support for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female pirates in the 1600s. This sweeping saga releases January 13, 2026.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Joseph-Beth Booksellers through their website and Bookshop.org

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

If you believe like me that stories matter—please like, share, and hit subscribe to 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