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.

If you’re ready to move with purpose and power, hit that like button and subscribe to Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We have work to do. Let me help recharge 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

I don’t know about you, but I have a drawer of knickknacks and half-finished projects—remnants of ideas and good intentions.

In my bathroom vanity, tucked behind a beautiful brass knob, there’s a special drawer. At first glance, it might seem like a treasure trove.

Once, maybe it was. But now? It’s a collection of brokenness. Broken glass. Broken jewelry. Missing sequins. And, perhaps, broken dreams.

Each piece ended up in this drawer because, at some point, I told myself I would fix it. That I would find the time to reattach that clasp, that I’d discover the match to that one clip-on earring I adore, or maybe I’d give a piece new life because this pendant is so sentimental.

But I haven’t.

And now the drawer is full.

Not with treasure, but with intentions—intentions that have long expired.

To be very honest, some of these items are truly beyond repair.

The joint on a bracelet has snapped off completely. The solder that once held it together disintegrated. And yet I kept it. Because maybe—just maybe—I’ll fix it one day. That’s the tease or lie, I tell myself.

And to date, I fixed maybe two or three things. I should be honest with myself when I’m not ready to let go.

That drawer is not a shrine of hope. It’s a graveyard of the dream deferred. It’s filled with delays and avoidance. As an author it’s a drawer of nice stories that I’m afraid to finish.

I think a lot of us are carrying real and metaphorical drawers like this through our lives.

We hold onto broken relationships, deflated dreams, abandoned goals. We carry them from space to space, boxing them up when we move, adding more to this draw year after year, when our plans change and haven’t the guts or desire to say goodbye out loud.

Truthly, I need to stop deluding myself. I’m not going to fix everything in this drawer.

There’s a difference between hope and baggage and that is a line called passion.

If you look closely at your time, your money, your energy they go to what you are passionate about.

They aligned with what you actually want?

If you feel there’s a disconnect between your vision and your investments, fix it. Otherwise That gap, that distance between what we want and what believe we want will fester into brokenness.

I wear clip-on earrings. Napier, Monet, Anne Klein are some favorites. And when I really like them, I will sometimes by duplicates of the same style. It sort of insurance, telling myself I have a backup in case I lose one. But that’s really just another excuse to keep piling excess into the drawer. The results are more broken pieces. More delays.

We all have excuses. And some of them are pretty good. As an author I can write some great excuses on why I’m filling up this space.

Yet, I need to accept that I’m weigh myself down. And whether it’s a literal drawer or an emotional one, we only have so much room.

So here’s my challenge to you—and to myself:

Go through your drawer. Literally and metaphorically. Sort through what’s there. Ask:

• Is this worth fixing?

• Do I want to invest the time to fix it?

• Is this taking up space where something whole and life-giving could live?

If you haven’t kept your word and fixed it in six months, let it go. Give it away, recycle it, or be brave and throw it out.

Here’s the truth that I have to accept. That draw of broken pieces is a mirror. And I don’t like what I see when I dig inside.

I’d rather the drawer be filled intention and joy. I’d rather it hold onto laughter, and good memories, and wholeness. I don’t want to leave behind a bunch of hot mess of pieces that no one understands or values when I had the power to clear it out and make room for better things.

Taking action:

That’s how we heal.

That’s how we move forward.

That’s how we create space for joy and new dreams.

Give yourself grace.

Give yourself freedom.

Throw out the broken pieces.

You deserve better. I’m rooting for us.

Books to get us through these moments:

Failures of Forgiveness: What We Get Wrong and How to Do Better by Myisha Cherry. It challenges our pressures to fix, offering a powerful reminder that sometimes, true healing begins by choosing not to repair what was never whole to begin with.

On Repentance and Repair by Danya Ruttenberg reframes the impulse to “fix” broken things—not through nostalgia or delay, but by naming harm, doing the work of transformation and restitution.

Village Weavers by Myriam J. A. Chancy illuminates how friendships, histories, and generational wounds can fracture and later reveal pathways to reconnection. Chancy reminds us that sometimes we must face the secrets we’ve kept tucked away, choosing what we rebuild and what we release.

This time I’m going to recommend an album: The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill is a testament to transforming personal brokenness, relational rupture, and societal pressures into a narrative of healing and self-reclamation.

This week, I’m highlighting Reparations Club Bookstore through their website and Bookshop.org

The cover for Fire Sword and Sea is here—and I love it! Three souls looking in different directions having each other’s back perfectly captures the spirit of these women pirates-bold brave and free of the 1600s.

Fire Sword and Sea – This sweeping saga, releasing January 13, 2026, follows fearless women who defied the world order and seized power on the high seas.

Preorders are now live! Visit my website for links to retailers big and small. Help spread the word. Share the adventure!

Show notes include a list of the books and album 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 a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

“Some will love you, some will hate you. It’s the yin and yang of life. In a way, it makes it a beautiful journey of discovering and loving who you are. Haters, well, the worst they can do is hate. So I’m consciously ‘living life like it’s platinum.’ And when the haters come around, I’ll be like Teflon.”—MJW

That’s a quote signed Mally Mal, who most knew as Malcolm-Jamal Warner—the beloved actor and director who was taken from us on July 20th. At 54, Malcolm-Jamal was still a young man with more to give.

I was on that hot mess platform, sneaking around looking for my British feeds and Love Island Edits. Why can’t I seem to quit that platform? Then news hit of the tragedy. For once, for a solid hour, my feed had nothing but quotes from Jamal’s peers—celebrating his life, championing his work and work ethic. Others expressed shock and sent love to his family.

It was an amazing, eerie thing to see this hot trash social feed be human. I think that’s Malcom-Jamal’s final miracle. People from all perspectives, from different political backgrounds, all ages—those who first saw Malcom-Jamal as Theo on their TVs growing up or caught him in streaming reruns—it was a love fest, a verbal and pictorial purge.

And before that moment is lost on us, I just want to take another second to think of his other gifts.Did you know Malcolm-Jamal was also a poet?

In January 2024, a video of his TED Talk was posted to YouTube of him performing one of his poems:“Vulnerability is My Superpower.”

The man we knew as Theo—the actor, the director who did everything from the New Edition video for Heart Break to TV episodes like Season 8 of the Cosby Show, Episode 147 “Vanessa’s Big Fun” (if YKYK)—yes that Malcom-Jamal gave a TED Talk that, in this superhero-seeking world, stands out:Vulnerability is my superpower.

He stepped up on the stage and quoted:

“Vulnerability.Can be a scary thing even when we’re on the mend.Black boys boast bravado, not to seem broken, and often so do Black men.I see you. Looking for clues. Listening for cues.Longing to know what I’m not telling you. As if I’m hiding in plain view.My most intimate thoughts belong to me. Like a woman’s body when she says no.So I reserve the right to go as far as I like.Because though I live in the public eye,I don’t subscribe to the dog and pony show.For I have learned to discern who cannot accept all of me.”—MJW

That was the quality I saw in Malcolm-Jamal’s acting. His presence defied toxic masculinity. It surged with quiet pride and gave us something raw—the boy next door, the smile that sits with ease.

For those of us who write romance, that is the magic we want on the page for our heroes—someone who’s fighting the fight on the outside, but when he is with the one he loves, we see respect and vulnerability.

Malcolm-Jamal was a musician, too. One with range.

On his last album, in his song “Selfless,” he writes:

“It’s a piece about finding my voice, being comfortable in my own skin, and not being ruled by other people’s opinion of me. It’s a tricky place to be because, as an artist, what people think about you and your art is an important part of connecting to your audience and therefore, your success. However, living your life trying to please everyone else is not living.”

That is a difficult ballad—to think about the definitions of success. Especially as a writer, or any type of creator, you need someone to like your work. When you’re a Black creator, you need somebody to champion and sing your praises because doors often close, heat comes from nowhere, and everyone is looking for a scandal to make some part of their mind say it was deserved, it was right for some negative attribution.

It gets very difficult to walk in the light—to be light—when everyone seeks to dim it.

Malcolm-Jamal knew this tension.His praises are being sung because he found his way.

On that TED stage, he concluded:

“Vulnerability is cool.It is strength. It still allows you to be a man,and vulnerability offers the greatest gift.It allows you to open up to yourself and love yourself.Because the most important thing, the most important thing,is the simple belief that you are enough.And as I stand here in the power of my own vulnerability,I am telling you—you are enough.Imagine. Just imagine what you could give to the world and what the world would see in you if you were no longer hiding in plain view.”

Poetry works out those demons—the things that torture the soul.Dear readers, writers, creators—I need you to be poets.I need you to work out everything in your soul so that when it is your time, people can remember that the life you lived was about your gifts, not your flaws.

That you spoke truth with joy and yes, vulnerability.And that every time you stepped up on stage, people could see the bright light in you.

For you have light.We just need to be brave enough to let it shine.

Thank you, Mally Mal, for your legacy of words and images.

My prayers and love go out to Malcolm-Jamal Warner’s family, friends, and fans.

Books to get us through these moments:

Milk and Honey by Rupi KaurWhile not specifically grief‑focused, its emotional themes of loss and self‑love will resonate and help readers processing pain and survival.

Highly Suspicious and Unfairly Cute by Talia Hibbert – This is a young adult rivals forced together, slowly letting guards down, and discovering depth and compassion.

The Hookup Plan by Farrah Rochon – A playful, steamy enemies-to-lovers romance that evolves into something tender and emotionally grounded. Think Theo grown up following in his doctor dad’s shoes but messy.

The Love Lyric by Kristina Forest is a tender, slow-burn romance between a widowed single mother and an emotionally available R&B singer that beautifully explores grief, healing, and second chance love.

This week, I’m highlighting Turning Page Bookshop 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 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.

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

Call me crazy.But I thought we were past some things.You know — basic rights stuff, like healthcare for all, voting rights without chaos. The idea that every American deserves life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness without governmental interference.

Apparently, that’s so 2008.

This week in the year 2025, two things got under my skin in the best and worst ways. First, my guilty pleasure: Love Island. I didn’t watch the show live, but caught up and got hooked by you’re your TikTok and Twitter recaps. I got swept up like half the internet by the stunning couple, Nic and Olandria. Interracial, magnetic, and misunderstood — especially Olandria, a gorgeous dark-skinned woman whose elegance and composure were somehow seen as… too much.

Let’s be clear. She wasn’t mean. She wasn’t cold. She was poised. Tender but guarded. Stylish but composed, and one of the best-dressed contestants this season. Yet on these platform were hot-takes, threads flooded with critiques. She was too reserved. Not fun enough. Not “approachable.” Comparing and contrasting, it became clear that her darker skin shaped how some of the audience expected her to behave or willfully misinterpreted how she acted.

Yes in 2025, dark skin can still means aggressive. Hood. Strong and never soft. Olandia isn’t supposed to be the dream girl.

Lighter-skinned contestants, equally quiet or equally assertive, weren’t held to the same standard. Colorism still has reach.

Colorism is not new. Slavery institutionalized a caste system where skin tone dictated labor, survival, and status. Lighter-skinned people, whether Indigenous, biracial, or descended from colonizers, were often placed in “preferable” conditions. This twisted logic follows us through Reconstruction, through Jim Crow, through beauty pageants, and now reality TV.

When I was researching Island Queen and came across the remarkable life of Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, a formerly enslaved woman who owned businesses across the West Indies and had a documented affair with a prince of England, I assumed she must’ve been biracial and fair-skinned — it’s what I’d been conditioned to expect with such access, desirability, and favoritism.

But no.

Dorothy was dark-skinned, described as striking, admired by politicians, desired by colonial men. Her achievements should be taught in school — and yet she’s barely remembered. One wonders if we would know her name if her skin were lighter like Elizabeth Dido Belle or her life more scripted and tragic like Sally Hemmings.

Dorothy Kirwan Thomas was the exception, not the rule, in a world that often refuses to associate darkness with beauty or softness or wealth.

That’s why I paused and shared the recent New York Times article celebrating The Gilded Age on HBO. The series is well done and its portrayal of Black high society in the 1880s is masterful.

The article features Phylicia Rashad, Audra McDonald, and Denée Benton discussing the dual burden of classism and colorism.

As Denée speaks about working on the show: “We have an opportunity to show something that’s never been onscreen. We have to widen this lens.”

Phylicia says, “The concerns of an era might be different, but people are still people.”

Audra adds, “But where we are right now, some of them are quite similar.”

Colorism didn’t disappear with integration. I know that because I went to school in the “colorblind” North and still experienced the paper bag test, a cruel whisper from Jim Crow, it was obvious.

Colorism didn’t vanish when we elected a Black president.

It’s why books like The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett struck such a nerve in 2020. Set in the fictional town of Mallard, it shows families fracturing under the pressure to assimilate and even pass.

I return to this quote from Sonali Dev’s 2019 novel, Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors — a love story between a darker-skinned Rawandan Anglo-Indian chef and a lighter-skinned Indian-American neurosurgeon:

“The syntax of prejudice—threaded into conversation with the perfect pauses and facial expressions—was like ciphers and spy codes. The meaning clear to those it was meant for. To everyone else, it was harmless scribbles. Easy enough to deny.”

Denying the lingering effects of colorism is sad. It hides in tone and tone policing. In the silence of those who don’t speak up or question biases. It can even come down to who we’re allowed to root for.

So no, we haven’t solved colorism, classism, or the big R word.

Yet there’s hope in storytelling.

I applaud The Gilded Age for giving us something new for TV, portraying Black affluence in the 1800s with elegance, and power and nuance.

And to my fellow writers: I say don’t stop. The market may shift. Budgets may tighten. But keep telling stories that challenge the hierarchy and bias. Keep writing histories that include all aspects of humanity now and in the past.

Readers? Please lock in.Buy the books.Request them at libraries.Share titles that stir you.

All of us together can make this place a better world.

Books mentioned in this podcast as well as others to spotlight a world-wide perspective are:

The Vanishing Half by Brit BennettTwo light-skinned Black twin sisters choose vastly different paths—one passing as white—and their family’s fate reveals the generational scars of colorism and identity.

Pride, Prejudice, and Other Flavors by Sonali DevA modern retelling of Austen’s classic featuring an Indian-American neurosurgeon and a darker-skinned chef navigating love, family pressure, and implicit bias, including colorism.

Dominicana by Angie Cruz A young Dominican girl is married off and brought to the U.S., navigating racism, patriarchy, and internalized colorism from her community and family.

The House of the Spirits by Isabel AllendeSpanning generations, this magical realist novel touches on colonialism, whiteness, and how transparent skin grants privilege and protection in postcolonial Chilean society.

The Bluest Eye by Toni MorrisonA dark-skinned Black girl internalizes society’s hatred and longs for blue eyes, believing they will make her loved and beautiful in a world shaped by colorism and racism.

Island Queen by Vanessa RileyBased on the real life of Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, this novel tells the epic story of a formerly enslaved woman who becomes a wealthy entrepreneur in the West Indies while confronting race, class, and beauty politics.

This week, I’m highlighting Virgina Highlands Bookstore through their website and Bookshop.org

We are at the 6-month point. January 13th will be here before we know it. Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female pirates in the 1600s. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title.

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

Let’s keep growing and building together—like, subscribe, and share. Please stay connected 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

We’ve all been worrying—rightfully—about AI stealing the work of artists and authors. That’s a valid and growing concern. In March of this year, I found out that Meta’s engine, according to The Atlantic, scraped 27 of my 28 published books.

The only reason it didn’t get March’s release A Wager at Midnight was because it hadn’t hit the shelves yet. Theft in broad daylight.

But this goes deeper than just copyright violations. We’re seeing something more insidious: the rise of AI-generated scams, fakery, and lies. And I’m not talking about science fiction. I’m talking about now.

On platforms like TikTok and X, faked videos are being created and/or shared with shocking ease—videos that can ruin reputations, twist narratives, and even make the UK tabloid press bite and republish the lies for a wider international audience. I’ve seen articles run in The Daily Mail that pose lies as questions, which gives dodgy accountability while still spreading misinformation. It’s manipulation masquerading as curiosity. Yet many look at lying headlines and accept them as true.

A report by Upwind published in December says that 87% of Americans are worried about being scammed by AI. That is a lot of people. It’s a huge concern, especially when truth tellers are losing their jobs or seemingly capitulating because of fears of being sued, losing access, or targeted and harassed. The “other side” is not just lying but they are weaponizing the instruments that we are supposed to trust and inflicting consequences on anyone saying or writing something they disagree with.

The Big Beautiful Lies

I must say, the lies can be compelling. Let’s look at an easy topic, travel. I mean, who doesn’t want a travel guide? I buy them quite often for research on big cities or exotic locations.

According to Axios, AI-generated travel guides, self-help books, and even mathematics are popular to scam. Now I have to say—math is hard enough. Why are you going to use a robot to put up something that can hurt a kid’s education. And please don’t have my characters walking down the wrong streets.

Yet the boldness of the lying is getting worse. People are using AI to write books and then publish them under real authors’ names. Savannah Guthrie in 2024 was done so dirty. She wrote the book Mostly What God Does. Scammers using AI wrote workbooks, studies, and companion guides for her book and published them on Amazon under her name.

Kara Swisher, the tech maven faced it too: fake “biographies” about her own life showed up ahead of her memoir’s release, Burn Book, in 2024. Jane Friedman details on her blog her own horror story, where a scammer used AI to write Friedman-like books, and then published those books under Friedman’s name. And the proceeds went to the bots.

These AI scams confuse real readers. They have the potential to damage reputations and dilute the credibility of authors—an author’s brand can take decades to build.

Imagine what happens to a debut author whose idea has become popular on TikTok, getting beat to her book launch by an AI scam. And because debuts aren’t yet industry names, they lose the credibility game.

I used to think that AI scams were going to catch my grandma or folks not paying attention. Nope. AI is giving thieves the ability to put together more convincing emails and websites to ensnare everyone. It’s not just grandma and Social Security, or the foreign soldiers needing help to get a fortune out of a war zone—we’re talking sophisticated scams that use AI to reconstruct your habits. They may be scanning emails or even listening to conversations through AI upgrades on things that shouldn’t have AI at all.

This is phishing on a whole new level. And we’re all set up to be scammed. It’s no longer going to be easy to tell a scam by bad grammar, doxing, or fraudulent websites. AI is making everything harder to detect. AI should be used to make things better, but in the hands of bots and scammers it is a nightmare.

No Free Rides or Shades

I recently did a small brand deal for gummy vitamins. I choked on a cornflake as a kid—swallowing is hard. And please don’t even think of me taking anything that’s a horse pill. Anyway, now I’m getting little offers. Most of the offers that don’t come from a collaborator’s platform are probably scams. So there are no free sunglasses.

How do we protect ourselves?

You can’t trust your eyes anymore. Nor your ears—AI can clone a voice. It can fake a face. It can forge a whole book.

But you can protect yourself:

* Verify Every Fact – Before you repeat or share get several sources. I want to say reputable, but that’s hard to define right now.

* Check Sources That Don’t Agree With You – Find several and verify dates, times, etc. If they match, you have a fact. If they don’t, you have a lie, a manipulation, or someone’s opinion.

* Search Smart – Check authors’ websites, join their newsletter, and follow creatives on their official accounts before buying.

* Report Scams – Don’t stay silent. Amazon, TikTok, and the FTC need to hear from us.

* Don’t Be Ashamed – If you got scammed, tell someone. Put it on blast. Be someone else’s keeper.

* Check the FTC’s Resources – The Federal Trade Commission is watching this space. The rules are there and often include ways of reporting issues.

We are in an era where you can no longer believe your lying eyes. The truth takes longer to verify, and the fakers are only getting smarter.

Artists, writers, creators: your work is valuable. But we must fight smarter and speak louder to help our readers and audiences find the truth. This is going to be a long battle, but we must not be silent. We can never let up the fight. Be vigilant while being creative.

Books to bring awareness of the problem are:

Weapons of Math Destruction: How Big Data Increases Inequality and Threatens Democracy by Cathy O’Neil

A sharp critique of how algorithms can be biased, dangerous, and largely invisible. It explains how AI systems make life-and-death decisions, often with no accountability.

The Coming Wave: AI, Power, and Our Future

by Mustafa Suleyman

This book explores how fast-moving technologies—especially AI—can outpace regulation and become tools for manipulation, chaos, and control. It’s a smart, accessible read on the dangers ahead.

And of course lets aid:

Burn Book by Kara Swisher

A sharp, insider memoir exposing the rise of Silicon Valley’s power players and how tech’s promises turned into threats to truth, privacy, and democracy.

Mostly What God Does by Savannah Guthrie

A heartfelt collection of reflections on faith, love, and grace, offering spiritual encouragement grounded in everyday life.

Check out Jane Friedman’s Website for her latest books.

This week, I’m highlighting Park Books 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 preorders for this title.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. Paid Subscribers Your Next Lesson on Build-A-Better-Character is coming this week.

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

Let’s keep growing and building together—like, subscribe, and share. Please stay connected 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

Flying home from the Historical Novel Society conference, I learned a lesson in indoctrination. I’m on a fast-moving deadline for a special project, but I had to go. HNS holds a special place for me. My very first HNS conference changed the trajectory of my life.

Before attending in 2019, I published lovely Regency romances. Sweet, comforting, polite novels—educating the world through fun, nonthreatening, history-filled reads.

But HNS cracked something open. Meeting a tribe of fellow history nerds and selling the book I never thought I’d sell—Island Queen, the biographical fiction about Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, one of the richest Black women in the Georgian world, a woman who bought her freedom and defies every rule and obstacle to live freely—that gave me the courage to keep telling stories that tug at my heart and mind.

Being free to create is a gift. One that’s hard to achieve. Black and brown creators, and women creators, have been indoctrinated, fed rules in the simplest of terms that challenge our freedom. Rules such as:

* That more ethnic the cover, the more it can impact book sales—or determine where a book gets shelved.

* That a pen name that sounds like a man’s carries more heft.

* That “historical accuracy” will be weaponized to silence you if you make one mistake.

* That if you fail, your failure will become the reason the next person who looks like you gets turned away.

You’ll never know how much that last one haunted me. How it still probably drives me to go the extra mile.

And I share all this to say: we’ve all been indoctrinated by our circumstances.

Writers learn quickly by how we’ve been treated—and how we’ve seen others treated—in publishing. It’s hard to break the pattern. And it’s about logic. It’s 1 + 1 = 2 when one sees patterns repeating.

And you, the listener—you’ve been indoctrinated.

Certain patterns, behaviors, even thoughts have been ingrained through images and repetition. This was made clear to me on my flight home.

Flying back from Vegas, Atlanta’s weather did not cooperate. Several delays and cancellations later, I was finally on my way but rerouted through Minneapolis. I’d arrived in Atlanta with just a four-hour delay and a bump up to first class. All was good.

But I wasn’t prepared for the real lesson I’d take from that flight.

An older gentleman sat beside me. The moment we took off, he flicked on his monitor and tuned into the news. He looked like a typical executive—loafers, golf watch, faint aftershave. He popped in his headphones, stared at the screen, and then drifted off to sleep.

I was writing but I couldn’t help watching. Something about flickering images in my periphery always pulls me in. For ten minutes, I stared at his monitor. No sound—just headlines and smiling faces discussing stories that disturbed me.

Ice raids with masked men capturing women on the street. The host smiled.Florida detention camps pop onto the screen. The smiling host makes it appear to be a pitch for a Disney vacation.

And my neighbor slept. Peacefully. Whatever was being whispered in his ear lulled him into calm.

I sat there gobsmacked.

This is indoctrination.

Indoctrination is subtle, yet powerful.It’s not about shouting.It’s about repeating.It’s about phrasing.It’s about making you feel safe while you’re being lulled into believing counterintuitive things.

The TV’s formula was simple:

* Repeat the same emotionally charged themes again and again.

* Print aggressive words: sue, threaten, destroy, take back, fight for your children.

* Paint the other side as monsters trying to take away your rights—your autonomy, your voice, your values.

* Frame reasonable actions as extreme.

* Show flags. Cue nostalgia. Stir something primal.

* Smile while doing it.

And the man next to me? He slept. Fully content. The world whispering in his ear made sense. That’s when I understood the terrifying genius of it.

People aren’t being brainwashed. They’re being comforted—soothed by simple stories, a few buzzwords, and a familiar rhythm.

In this whispering world, empathy is suspect.Fairness? A threat.Truth? Conditional.

How else do you explain people cheering for a roofer—someone who rebuilt their home after a hurricane—being rounded up and sent to a detention camp being pictured as a theme park?

What happened to questioning things?When did we decide that cruelty is an acceptable solution?Why is it okay to sleep through someone else’s pain?

Be awake.

Don’t let anyone tell you you’re overreacting.You’re not a sucker for caring. You’re human.

And to my fellow protestors and change-makers: we can’t just fight with facts and five-point plans. Shame doesn’t move people. Complexity doesn’t sway them.

If your message makes them feel stupid, they’ll dig in and side with the whisperers.

So what can we do?

We make the stakes as clear as possible.

We must give up the five-dollar words.Because those words only land with the most liberal among us. And as Nicole Hannah-Jones wrote in her recent New York Times essay, How Trump Upended 60 Years of Civil Rights in Two Months, citing scholar Ian Haney López—the rapid decline in support for DEI came from liberals. Particularly white liberals. Those skeptical of diversity. Those sympathetic to complaints about “wokeness.”

It hurts. On so many levels. Who is actually an ally?We had the George Floyd awakening, the feel-good changes… and then people voted against their better angels—for cheap eggs all while rolling back the good changes.

It’s going to take me a while to believe in allyship again.

And the lack of big words hurts because I love big words. I love nuance. But I’d rather be heard than admired for my vocabulary. I’d rather reach the “gettable” than preach to the choir, a choir who might be full of whisperers.

So:Use simple language.Simple signs.Drop the jargon.Focus on why it matters to them.

And alas, poor Yorick—and Vanessa—we must keep it simple.

Maybe then we can re-indoctrinate the world to be good.For once.For all.

Books to help with framing the problem are:

Nice Racism by Robin DiAngelo

A follow-up to White Fragility, this dives deeper into how progressive people often unknowingly uphold systemic racism.

White Rage by Carol Anderson

A piercing explanation of how systemic racism reacts violently to Black advancement in America—through policy, education, and media.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde

Essential essays on the intersections of race, gender, sexuality, and the power of being awake to oppression.

The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story by Nikole Hannah-Jones

This anthology reframes American history by placing the consequences of slavery and the contributions of Black Americans at the very center of the national narrative and reveals how deeply racial ideology—and indoctrination—are woven into the fabric in the U.S.

This week, I’m highlighting Malik Books 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 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.

Let’s keep rising and creating together—like, subscribe, and share. Please stay connected 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

It probably won’t surprise you—at least not once you’ve met me—that I’m a planner. My name is Vanessa Riley, and I’m a serial planner. There isn’t an outline I don’t love, nor a spreadsheet that doesn’t call my name.

If I could design a map of a map of a map of systems accompanied by a flowchart—I’d consider it bliss. Come to one of my book events and ask what kind of person or writer I am, and I’ll often tell you: I’m a nerd’s nerd, a meticulous nerd. That’s right—pocket protector-level nerd. I love formulas and systems. I love figuring things out and then optimizing them.

Why? Because we only get so much energy, so much time, and so many resources in this life. I want every ounce I give to have maximum effect. If you can show me how to reach more people, make more impact, or spark more meaningful change, I’m listening. I’m all in.

But what happens when the plan doesn’t work?

Devastation. Armageddon. World War 3. In other words, I don’t take it well.

Yet I listened to Meghan Sussex, yes Meghan Markle on the Emma Grede’s podcast, Aspire, talking about failing as winning.

It sounds crazy at first.

I mean carefully charted course falls apart. How is it winning, when something completely unexpected hijacks your progress and leaves you scrambling? For those who “pants” their way through books—that is, write without plotting—this kind of disruption might just feel like a quirky detour. But for a planner? It’s devastating.

Life is unpredictable and messy. You pour energy into structure and logic and find out the world has other ideas.

And if the detour is because of people— you know the ones who don’t behave the way you think they should. Those people who’ve bought into that notion called free will, it can be devastating.

You don’t know who to trust. Or if you should trust it all. If the past year has taught us anything, it’s that people often act in ways that defy their own interests. They cling to ideals or narratives that make sense only to them. And we have to let them. As a famous poet, Bobby Brown used to insist, that’s their prerogative.

For those of you who know the chaos of watching a plan implode, I see you. I’ve lived that upheaval, and I want to offer a few steps I’ve found helpful:

1. You did your best.

Even if the outcome wasn’t what you expected, you gave it your all. The plan didn’t play out perfectly, but you showed up. You tried. And it’s OK to take a moment to lick your wounds.

2. Mourn what was built and what was lost.

It’s perfectly valid to grieve the work, the dream, or the strategy that didn’t survive. Tend to your mental health. Sometimes, starting over means burning what didn’t work to the ground. This can feel extreme, but it’s also freeing. When ego is stripped away, what’s left is humility, hunger, and a wide-open future.

3. Learn the lessons.

Every failure teaches us something. Maybe you trusted someone you shouldn’t have. Or maybe you missed an opportunity to include a partner who would have made all the difference. The lesson might be to trust more wisely. One of the best lessons is to pay attention not just to the bottom line, but to everyone on all sides.

4. Stopping is not quit.

Unless you’re physically in the grave, the game is not over. You might feel tired. You might feel lost. But you are not done. Separate the strategy from the strategist. It’s not a failure if you’ve learned to do better.

5. It’s okay to begin again.

Being brand new is not failure—it’s freedom. There’s a joy in learning, in discovering new spaces, in making new connections. Walking away and choosing the right season to begin again is a win.

6. Accept that all spaces aren’t meant for you.

When I look at that portrait of Ruby Bridges (The problem we all live with), as she’s being escorted by guards to integrate a classroom—people are screaming, writing nastiness on walls. But she and her parents decided that was the place for Ruby to be.

Honestly, I don’t know if I’d make the same call. Ruby’s treatment was horrific. Adults who should be protecting children were monsters in plain sight.

That’s hard. I’d question if that sacrifice is worth my peace?

Sometimes, the brutal truth is that the path you planned wasn’t yours. Stopping doesn’t mean you lost. It might mean you’re closer to the path that you’re meant to take. And in this day and age, that place needs to be loving, edifying, and safe. You have to feel you can bring all of you, not just fragments. Not just 50% of your gifts. All or nothing.

Writers know this well. Sometimes, we have to throw out what doesn’t work. I deleted 50,000 words from a manuscript that wasn’t working. That kind of heartbreak required ice cream and chocolate, and maybe a few deep sighs—but it made the book stronger. With my upcoming novel Fire Sword and Sea, the original plan didn’t hold. It took me two years, and several rewrites, to get it right.

Because I’m writing about real people—Pirates Jacquotte Delahaye, Michel Le Basque, Anne Dieu-Le-Veut, Laurens De Graaf and others from the 1600s—I owe it to them, and to my readers, to go the extra mile. You have to be will to pay the price to create value, something of lasting meaning.

If it’s worthwhile, it’s worth the effort. A good book is worth the effort. And you? You’re worth everything it takes to reach your dreams.

You know those dreams—the ones that keep you up at night, the ones you see in vivid color when your eyes finally close. These dreams call to you for a reason. And I believe you can do it. I’m counting on you. I know you can win.

Books to help you on your journey:

Meghan Sussex recommends Atomic Habits by James Clear. It’s is a practical guide to transforming your life by making small, consistent changes that compound into remarkable results.

When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön

– Wisdom for moments when your plan shatters and you need spiritual grounding

.

Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle by Emily Nagoski & Amelia Nagoski

– For the serial planner who’s burnt out and doesn’t know why. It’s a guide to recovering your energy and agency.

This week, I’m highlighting Parnassus Books 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 preorders.

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.

Let’s keep rising and creating together—like, subscribe, and share. Stay connected 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

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