When I was about to be married, the women of my church threw me a shower, at which each of them gave me a favorite recipe to put in a cookbook for our new home. And though I still use Marion’s directions for teriyaki chicken, and though Sandy’s roasted veggies are still a favorite at our house, the real treasure in that cookbook isn’t the recipes. It’s the marriage advice each woman wrote down alongside her recipe.
Since this June has been all about marriage here at Regency Reflections, I thought I’d pass on the best of that advice – the advice that’s proved the most true in this first decade of my marriage. And since it comes from a woman who’s currently in the middle of her fourth decade of marriage – my mom, Betsy Barber – you can trust that it has more wisdom than anything I could come up with out of my short experience.
So, here they are, the words I see every time I turn to my mother’s recipe for the perfect pie crust:
For those of you who haven’t had thirty years practice interpreting my mom’s handwriting, here’s what it says:
1. Constant prayer
2. Frequent, joyful sex
3. Regular time spent together
4. Continual forgiveness, continual repentance.
5. Conscious support of his career and hobbies
6. Encourage 10X more often than any critique.
And there at the bottom, added in after the original composition, is my favorite part: “Remember – if it’s good for Adam, it is good for you.”
That’s the part that I hadn’t read anywhere else in my marriage prep, and it’s the part I still wish more people talked about when they talk to married couples: since you’re one flesh, what’s good for one of you – what builds one up, what encourages one, what heartens one – benefits the other. Anything that helps my husband helps me. If something makes him a better Christian, if anything gives him joy, if anything delights his heart, it’s to my benefit that he has it, because it means I’ll be married to a better, happier, godlier man.
And the same is true the other way around. If something encourages me, if something builds me up, it’s to Adam’s benefit to see that I get it, because then he enjoys a marriage to a happier, healthier, godlier wife.
I could go on about the other points on that list, but this blog entry is supposed to be kept at a reasonable length. Suffice it to say: all the points on that list are good . . . especially the second one. 😉
As a writer, the greatest gift I can offer a reader is the ability to feel. Love, anger, or the powerful sense of being seen—my books come with an implicit promise. I intend to transport you, enlighten you, and to invite you to inhabit someone else’s shoes. You will tread in their footsteps, see through their eyes, and be consumed by their emotions. This is my gift, my bond with my readers.
I truly believe all writers are empaths at heart. That’s why last week was especially hard—a whirlwind of emotions and memories, crashing upon me at the same time.
In Atlanta, a rare snowstorm—an event last seen a decade ago—brought the city to a standstill. At the same time, the world paused to honor President Jimmy Carter, a man synonymous with empathy and kindness. He was my first president, well the first I can actually remember. The plain spoken, proud son of Georgia, gave the world a lifetime of service. His passing like his presidency, brought together people across political divides, reminding us of the compassion that once defined leadership.
On the other coast, in California, a cruel trifecta of fire, wind, and drought ignited devastating wildfires. Over 20,000 acres have burned in the Palisades Fire. You know the names—Malibu, Mandeville Canyon, Brentwood, and the hills of Encino and Tarzana. The Fires in Eaton which includes devasted generational communities of Pasadena and Altadena–have been hit with significant property damage. The Hurst, Kenneth, Archer and Lidia Fires still rage at the time of this recording.
We’ve Seen This All Before
Throughout history, natural disasters have tested human resilience:
* 1556: The Shaanxi Earthquake in China claimed 830,000 lives, the deadliest recorded.
* 1692: The Port Royal Earthquake and tsunami destroyed two-thirds of the “Wickedest City on Earth,” killing over 2,000. Neighboring islands sent organized looters.
* 1815: Mount Tambora erupted in modern-day Indonesia, leading to the “Year Without a Summer” and a global death toll of 80,000–100,000.
* 1900: The Great Galveston Hurricane killed as many as 12,000.
* 1931: The China Flood led to approximately 4 million deaths from drowning, starvation, and disease.
* 1970: Cyclone Bhola in Bangladesh caused over 300,000 deaths.
* 2004: The Indian Ocean Tsunami killed over 230,000 people across 14 countries.
* 2005: Hurricane Katrina left 1,800 dead and caused $161 billion in damages, with long-term displacement of residents.
* 2010: The Haiti Earthquake caused over 222,000 deaths and displaced over 1.3 million people.
* 2011: The Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami in Japan triggers the Fukushima nuclear disaster and kills over 19,000 people.
* 2017: Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico caused 2975 deaths and massive infrastructure failures. Puerto Rico was left without power, water, or basic services for months.
* 2017: Hurricane Harvey in Texas wreaked havoc, leaving thousands dead and causing $125 billions in damages.
2024 Hurricane Helene
Hurricane Helene devastated six Southern states from September 24–29, 2024, claiming at least 236 lives. Entire towns in the far inland mountains of North Carolina—Chimney Rock Village, Marshall, and Hot Springs—were essentially washed away by floods.
Helene’s damage was personal. It struck my hometown of Aiken, South Carolina—a small town known for horse racing and Refrigerator Perry of the Chicago Bears. My aunt and cousins were without power for almost a week. The massive oak outside the 5-and-dime store where I had my first job was ripped from the concrete sidewalk by the storm’s ferocious winds. When I visited Aiken in December, two months after the hurricane, the town still bore the scars. Fallen trees littered the landscape, and many roads and houses remained in disrepair.
Miss me with the idea that this is what we deserved. Miss me with the craven spirit that left people frightened and hopeless, thinking no help was coming because this disaster unfolded during a contentious political season.
No place or community is immune to catastrophe. Each disaster brings grief, rebuilding, and, most importantly, a need for solidarity. But are we up to the task? Increasingly, a spirit of division and disdain seems to overshadow the empathy we once showed in times of tragedy. Have we lost our humanity?
Going Back to Cally
Over 180,000 people have been evacuated, and at least 10 lives have been lost in the fires ravaging California. Sadly, that number will likely rise once the flames are contained. But how do we contain the blaze consuming our humanity? Instead of unity, many are quick to condemn, point fingers, or dismiss the devastation as a plight of wealthy Malibu residents or Hollywood elites.
When disaster strikes the rich and famous, cynics are eager to believe they deserved it. But what about places like Chimney Rock or Aiken or other less affluent communities devastated by storms? Did they deserve it? Are you saying the God you believe in has condemned them as well? Tragedy doesn’t discriminate based on wealth, geography, or political allegiance.
Empathy isn’t about whether someone “deserves” to suffer. It’s about recognizing our shared humanity in the face of catastrophe.
Consider this: the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) is funded by taxes from both blue and red states. Blue states, often with liberal politics, contribute the most to federal aid, including FEMA dollars. Meanwhile, red states, more prone to natural disasters, tend to receive more federal funding relative to what they contribute. Could it be that we need each other?
If we let division overshadow compassion, we risk eroding the foundation that binds us as a nation. We are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. But here’s the question: when was the last time you chose to love someone as much as you love yourself?
Subscribe for free. Get Vanessa’s take on publishing, challenges, and opportunities, drawing from her journey as an indie author turned traditionally published powerhouse: 25 novels and counting.
Atlanta’s and Texas’s Snowmageddon
Ten years ago, on January 28, 2014, Atlanta experienced a rare snowstorm—just two-and-a-half inches of snow turned interstates into parking lots. People were stranded for hours, some overnight. Weather advisories had warned of impending danger, but when the morning came with no snow on the ground and no sleet in the air, most assumed the storm had passed.
I remember leaving my house around 9 a.m. for a dental appointment. By 10 a.m., I had clean teeth but could barely drive home. Tragically, 13 people lost their lives. Life can change quickly, as that day reminded us. Eventually, we thawed out and survived being the butt of jokes for months.
Fast forward to 2022, during Winter Storm Uri in Texas. Extreme cold, snow, and power outages swept across the state, taking over 210 lives. While government officials argued and finger-pointed, neighbors stepped up. Families opened their homes, sharing warmth and shelter. I used Instacart to send water to friends who had no running supply.
In both of these “snowmageddons,” a profound truth emerged: empathy surged. People helped people. Compassion triumphed over adversity. These moments remind us of our capacity to care, even in the harshest conditions.
Back to Finger Pointing
The news has already shifted its focus in Los Angeles to looters, sidestepping the stories of everyday people who lost their homes or whose retirement facilities were reduced to ashes. Instead, we see blame placed on budget cuts and political decisions. Meanwhile, the unregulated cesspools of Facebook groups are busy mocking “Hollyweird” and spinning the tragedy into another divisive narrative.
I hope in my heart that for every negative story circulated, there are countless acts of kindness—neighbors helping neighbors, communities checking on the most vulnerable, and strangers opening their homes to those in need.
We still have power in these moments. We can step away from toxic conversations. We can amplify stories of love and solidarity instead of hatred and blame.
The goal isn’t to deepen division but to remind ourselves of what’s at stake. We need to care for one another, not because of where we live but because we all share this human experience.
It is possible—to mourn together, to heal together, and to rebuild together. If we can’t, can we at least choose silence—do the quiet “thoughts and prayers” thing we do when there’s a mass shooting?
What Should We Do?
If we choose to mourn and heal together, we must:
* Speak with empathy.
* Listen actively.
* Offer comfort to those in need.
As Proverbs 16:24 reminds us, “Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body.” Listening is helping. Platitudes are cheap. Empathy heals.
What Books Can We Read
As a book girly, I’ll make some recommendations:
* A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis: A deeply personal account of loss and healing.
On January 9, 2025, President Carter’s casket was welcomed at the snow-capped National Cathedral, a grand limestone church with arches, ribbed vaults, flying buttresses, and over 200 stained-glass windows, including one containing a moon rock from Apollo 11.
The Rt. Rev. Mariann Budde presided as Carter’s casket was ushered into the cathedral, observed by dignitaries and all living presidents. Her words echoed: “Let us also pray for all who mourn, that they may cast their care on God and know the consolation of his love.”
Later that day, the same casket would find its way into the humble pine wood church, Maranatha Baptist, in Plains, Georgia. There, a simpler service with familiar faces—friends and neighbors Carter had known all his life—would gather to say goodbye.
In both services, one grand and the other modest, there will likely be a shared refrain: Jimmy Carter’s faith mirrored American ideals, particularly the belief that “we are all created equal in the image of God.”
We are all created equally. We face suffering equally. Whether the wind howls, the rain menaces, the earth quakes, or fires rage, destruction and loneliness do not discriminate. To move closer to a more perfect union, we must embrace empathy. It is my hope that in places as different as rich limestone cathedrals and honest pinewood chapels, empathy and humanity can coexist.
I challenge all writers to help restore empathy in the world.
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
Everyone screws up occasionally. The epicness of your less than perfect moment can often be tied to the significance and size of the event at which it occurs. Stepping on your hairbrush and wiping out in your bathroom can be excessively painful, but the embarrassment factor is rather low. Tumbling down the ramp at your high school graduation can haunt you for the rest of your life, leading the highlight reel at every class reunion.
Photo via Wiki Commons
Kristi here and there is perhaps no grander stage to mess up on than a wedding. Emotions are high, stress abounds, and months (sometimes years) of careful planning is being set in motion. While everyone is praying for four perfect hours of ceremony and reception, that is rarely the case.
Check around on YouTube or watch a few episodes of America’s Funniest Videos and you’ll be able to start a list of common wedding maladies:
The Fainter
Photo via Wiki Commons
Sometimes it’s the groom, often it’s a groomsman. Every now and then it’s the bride. Funniest one I’ve ever seen? The priest.
If you go to a lot of weddings, you’ve probably seen a fainter. They start to blink and then sway just a bit and then next thing you know, their knees give way and everyone does their best impression of dominos. (By the way, if you’re in a wedding make sure you eat breakfast that morning and don’t lock your knees. That lessens your chances of becoming the fainter!)
You can see some great faints in this video. Most of them are from weddings.
The Wayward Kid
I have considerable experience with this one. I was one.
As the flower girl for my cousin’s wedding, I thought I was hot stuff. Unfortunately, I almost became really hot stuff when I became curious about what would happen if I stepped on the base of an enormous candelabra. No, I didn’t burn the church down, but I think I caused a moment or two of horror.
Photo via Wiki Commons
Kids are adorable and make for some really cute pictures, but they are also unpredictable. You never know when they’ll decide to eat the flower petals or obtain a massive case of stage fright.
The Guests
There are many other opportunities to embarrass yourself at a wedding (and given the propensity of brides to hire photographers and videographers, these moments are captured for posterity). Even if you are only a guest, you aren’t immune to being caught up in the wedding disaster hall of fame. Dance floor escapades, bouquet toss brawls, and unplanned toasts are all fodder for the awkward situation generator.
Got a few guests who’ve indulged too much at the open bar? The chances of chagrin inducing capers increase exponentially.
My Altar Moment
Me and My Hubby, nine years ago
I have to say, though, that I’ve never heard of someone else having the same experience as I did. I’ve heard of flubbed up vows, tongue-tied grooms, and ministers forgetting their notes, but I think I’m fairly unique in my story.
Fortunately, it wasn’t me, although I nearly caught the giggles, which would have made the rest of the ceremony very difficult.
What happened? Well, the minister called my husband a woman. He said, “Do you, Kristi, take this woman…” I very nearly lost it. In his defense, the poor man was very nervous. As a dear friend of the family, he was worried about making a mistake in the middle of the wedding. And then he did.
His own daughter is getting married this weekend. I don’t think he’s officiating the ceremony.
What about you?
Have you been to a wedding where things didn’t quite go as planned? What hilarity ensued at your own wedding?
For the past five years, I’ve embraced the practice of choosing a word to frame my year. The selection serves as a calling card, a guiding principle to reflect upon and shape my actions and mindset.
My husband suggested tuna. Yes, you heard me—tuna. Lord bless him. He’s cute and a keeper, but tuna? Wanting to be gutted and stuffed in a metal tin is not what I want on 2025’s bingo card.
My previous words have included:
* Bold: A year of stepping out of my comfort zone.
* Happiness: A focus on joy and gratitude.
* Peace: Seeking tranquility and balance.
* Yes: Inspired by Shonda Rhimes’ Year of Yes: How to Dance It Out, Stand in the Sun, and Be Your Own Person, I committed to saying yes to new opportunities and challenges.
Shonda says, “The most important thing you can do is to keep saying yes. Saying yes opened up my life in ways I could never have predicted. It was a powerful force.”
The “yes” opportunities, even those that feel outside our comfort zones, can lead to transformation and success beyond our wildest dreams. I’m a writer. I love wild, unimaginable dreams.
My Year of Yes was 2019. Despite my skepticism and hesitation, I said yes to some things that ended up changing the trajectory of my career. I began dabbling in and studying mystery and suspense, saying yes to writing new genres and new POVs.
I wrote the big book, Island Queen, that I never thought would be contracted or published. The power of yes and being open is unmatched. Could 2025 be a repeat Year of Yes?
Well, yes and no. I’m in a different place—mentally, physically, even spiritually. My faith is strong, but I feel loss so deeply. I can’t put my finger on it, nor is it just one thing—but it’s gone.
Part of that feeling comes from what I witnessed. Last year unveiled sides of humanity I didn’t want to see. People who should be natural allies were torn apart by self-interest or self-hate. The reality of progress, which I once believed to be within reach, now feels like an illusion. We are not our brothers’ or sisters’ keepers—not when eggs are $9.00. Or when I wrongfully believe that helping another living, breathing soul somehow takes from me.
2025, you had me screaming into the void, only for it to suck away the sound. My tears can’t be heard. I need a word that will pull me away from the void—the endless hole called cynicism. I need it to help me rebuild.
I know I’m not alone in this. My closest friends and I still gather to discuss, pray, and believe for something better. Yet, the weariness persists, and I can see myself calling out, “Prayers, prayers, sorrows,” for everything outside my circle.
I need a new word. I take comfort in knowing that finding a word for inspiration is an exercise as old as time.
Historical Timeline of Setting Yearly Intentions
* Babylonian Origins (~2000 BCE): The Babylonians made promises to their gods to do good deeds, seeking favor for the coming year.
* Roman Influence (46 BCE): With the Julian calendar, Romans made resolutions on January 1, with promises of improvement and good moral conduct.
* Peacock Vows (6th–15th Century): In the medieval period, knights participated in the “peacock vow,” an annual pledge to maintain their chivalric code.
* Religious Resolutions (~15th Century): Early Christians were encouraged to reflect on past mistakes and resolve to improve in the new year.
* Modern Secularization (18th Century): Under Protestant influence, resolutions began emphasizing personal accountability and self-improvement.
* The Akan People and Adinkra Symbols (~19th Century–1818): The Akan people of West Africa chose Adinkra symbols to guide them for the year, such as:
* Nkyinkyim (initiative/dynamism)
* Eban (protection/security)
* Victorian Era (19th Century): Making New Year’s resolutions became a widespread practice in Western culture.
* Germany’s Word of the Year (1971): The Gesellschaft für deutsche Sprache (Society for the German Language) selects a “Word of the Year” to reflect social and cultural trends. For 2024, they chose “Ampel-Aus” or “traffic light shutdown,” referencing Germany’s coalition collapse.
* Self-Help Movement (1980s–1990s): Choosing a word at the beginning of the year gained popularity, encouraging focus on a single concept to guide actions.
* Modern Popularity (2000s+): Mindfulness and productivity proponents like Gretchen Rubin (author of The Happiness Project) spread the idea of guiding words over traditional resolutions.
* One Word Movement (2010): The book, One Word That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton, and Jimmy Page, brought global attention to the concept.
So, from a historical perspective—whether inspired by faith, adventure, the need to organize, or focus—we’ve all been searching for a word to help us get our acts together.
It’s still hard. Disappointment and fear make us want to stand still and watch the world burn. In Isaiah 40:31, the text speaks to a desire for the Lord to renew our hope. I want hope. I want to feel it and again soar on wings like eagles. I want to run and not grow weary. I want to laugh and not fear what comes next.
Thanks for reading Vanessa Riley’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
Meghan Markle, the Duchess of Sussex, says, “The most important thing we can all do for ourselves is leave room for magic.” Like Shonda, Meghan encourages us to remain open to the unexpected, the unknown, and make space for magic. Magic leads to hope, and hope leads to the greatest possibilities.
But hope isn’t my word, 2024 took care of that. Hope is a state of being. To me, it’s not an action. It feels passive and implies waiting. Nobody has time for that.
My Word for 2025
This year, my word is Dare. According to Webster’s dictionary, “dare” means to have the courage to do something or to challenge oneself. I chose this word because it encapsulates my desire to:
* Double-dare myself to face fears and doubts.
* Stretch beyond the boundaries I’ve grown comfortable within.
* Embrace risks that could lead to transformative growth.
Daring Myself to DoAs I step into 2025, I dare myself to flee apathy. I dare myself to let my deeds shine brighter, to be bigger and bolder than ever before. This year, I will embrace more risks, more words, more watching, more praying—all while holding onto hope. At times, I will rest, so I can rise with renewed strength. The fire within me hasn’t been extinguished. It still smolders. It burns for you and for me—for what we could become.
In these uncertain times, with bombings, terrorism, and tariffs on the horizon, I’ve chosen to take control of my personal narrative. Writing about strong women who overcome extraordinary challenges reminds me that I, too, can dare to be bold, dare to be resilient, and dare to be fully myself.
I encourage you to choose your word. Let it be a balm for your soul. Make it your battle cry to achieve something greater—even in moments of disillusionment. I dare you. I double dog dare you to win—for yourself and those you hold dear.
Books Mentioned in this Podcast:
Year of Yes: How to Dance It Out, Stand in the Sun, and Be Your Own Person by Shonda Rhimes
The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
That Will Change Your Life by Jon Gordon, Dan Britton, and Jimmy Page
Island Queen by 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
As a writer, I believe in using words to tell stories. As a reader, I get very excited when a book transports me to the time and place of the novel. I want to feel like I’m there, all while enjoying the safety and comfort of my home, in my favorite chair.
A visual performer does the same thing. Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter is not just a singer—she’s a master of the arts of sound and motion, of textures and hues and imagery.
On Christmas Day, she showcased her unparalleled talent during the Baltimore Ravens and Houston Texans’ playoff game. Writers can draw valuable lessons from Queen B’s performance:
* Craft a Story That Resonates: Create a narrative that connects with your audience on a deep level.
* Layer Your Message: Evoke a range of emotions and sensory delights to keep your audience engaged.
* Use Your Platform: Elevate causes and ideas you care about, using your voice to make a difference.
* Show Up (Period): Deliver with all guns blazing—give your absolute best effort.
Those are the easy takeaways. But this is Beyoncé, after all. She deserves an in-depth analysis.
Subscribe for free. Get Vanessa’s take on publishing, challenges, and opportunities, drawing from her journey as an indie author turned traditionally published powerhouse: 25 novels and counting.
Owning Your 13 Minutes
Fifteen minutes of fame? That’s outdated. In today’s fast-paced world, it’s all about maximizing the 13 minutes you’re given and making them unforgettable. Beyoncé didn’t just perform during the NFL halftime show—she transformed those 13 minutes into a cultural and historical statement that will resonate for decades.
When Beyoncé, riding a Lipizzaner and dressed in white, appeared on Netflix for the World Wide Stage, she wasn’t just performing—she was storytelling. Every writer, including myself, needs to take note. On Christmas Day in the year of our Lord 2025, Beyoncé, one of the most famous people in the world, a cultural icon, and a legendary artist, arrived at NRG Stadium.
Riding in-hand amid an American Requiem—solemn graveyard of stilled Cadillacs, veiled singers bathed in white light, and cowboys standing shoulder to shoulder with rodeo men and women before a plastic-wrapped flag—Beyoncé delivered an iconic, thematic performance. It was the pinnacle of symbolism and storytelling that will forever be remembered as one of the greatest halftime shows in history.
13 Minutes
Thirteen minutes is 780 seconds, countless steps, innumerable costumes, and cameras capturing every angle. Beyoncé took command of Netflix and reminded everyone that she is country—that country music was built on the backs of Black entertainers. She showcased Black cowboys and the rich traditions of Black rodeo culture. If anyone needed a lesson about belonging, she gave one in a defiant celebration of Black identity and pride. The presentation was audacious and bold—a finger in the eye of a genre and spaces that tried to exclude her… exclude us.
The Origins
In 2016, Beyoncé and The Chicks performed “Daddy Lessons” at the Country Music Association (CMA) Awards, only to face backlash questioning her “country credentials.” Despite, or perhaps in spite of, that rejection, Beyoncé began writing, dreaming, and crafting an album—Act II: Cowboy Carter. Her eighth studio album, released on March 29, 2024, via Parkwood Entertainment and Columbia Records, has topped charts in the US and abroad. It’s genius.
Then, the CMA decided to be petty. They didn’t invite her or nominate Beyoncé for any awards at their 58th Annual awards show. The event, hosted in November, drew 6 million live viewers who tuned in to see pretty much the same old guard circle their wagons.
When this was announced, Beyoncé didn’t cry for a performative boycott. I call it a “performative boycott” because some of these actions are feel-good movements that don’t address the real issues, instead offering excuses for reckless voting, buying, or other problematic behaviors. Instead, she built her own stage, crafted her own story, and invited others to celebrate with her at the Beyoncé Bowl—the Christmas Day halftime show. Beyoncé secured 27 million viewers, even more than the football game’s audience. Her unapologetic artistry eclipsed the CMA’s viewership and shortsighted attitudes.
But let’s take a moment to discover the roots of the matter—or why “petty” feels prejudiced.
Black Contributions to Country Music
Black people are not just coming to country music in 2024—we began it.
* Banjo Music, 17th Century: The akonting, the forerunner of the banjo, is a traditional instrument of the Jola people in Senegal, The Gambia, and Guinea-Bissau. Enslaved Africans reconstructed similar instruments for their entertainment and that of their masters.
* Fisk Jubilee Singers, 1871: Introduced spirituals and gospel music that influenced the emotional storytelling we find in country music.
* DeFord Bailey, 1927: The first African American to perform on Nashville radio station WSM’s Grand Ole Opry, known for his harmonica skills and often referred to as a “harmonica wizard.”
* Ray Charles, 1960: His album Modern Sounds became his first to top the Billboard 200, and also made him the first Black musician to be granted artistic control by a mainstream record label.
* Charley Pride, 1966: Outsold Elvis and John Denver for RCA Records. He had 30 No. 1 hits and 52 Top-10 hits on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart, becoming one of the most successful country artists of all time.
* Linda Martell, 1969: The first Black woman to perform at the Grand Ole Opry.
* Kane Brown, 2018: The first artist to top five US country charts simultaneously.
* Lil Nas X, 2019: Released “Old Town Road,” which sparked debates about the definition of country music. It spent 19 weeks atop the Billboard Hot 100, breaking records.
* Mickey Guyton, 2021: Became the first Black female solo artist nominated for a Grammy in a country category.
* Shaboozey, 2024: His hit “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” tied with “Old Town Road” for the longest-running No. 1 on the Hot 100.
* Beyoncé, February 2024: Her single “Texas Hold ’Em” reached No. 1 on the country airplay chart, making her the first Black woman to achieve this milestone.
* Beyoncé, March 2024: Her album Act II: Cowboy Carter became the first by a Black woman to top the Billboard country albums chart since its inception in 1964.
In 2024, with country music’s Black origins, why are we still seeing “firsts”? Upon being given the Innovator Award by iHeart Radio, Beyoncé said, “My hope is that we’re more open to the joy and liberation that comes from enjoying art without preconceived notions.”
13 Minutes of Defiance
Obviously, the roots and Beyoncé’s achievements weren’t enough. Some still say she doesn’t belong in country music. The CMA snub gave all the haters—those less innovative—a moment to gloat. Beyoncé, with 13 minutes, proved you don’t need to be accepted by aged, fearful, or wrong-thinking gatekeepers. She didn’t ask their permission—she reached out and owned the moment. Her performance was an unapologetic declaration of belonging.
Beyoncé’s defiance can be defined in layers:
* Historical nods: Her floral carriage evoked early Juneteenth parades and all white, representing Juneteenth parties of celebration.
* Black excellence: The choreography showcased line dancing, cultural dances, and the inclusion of HBCU bands like Texas Southern’s Ocean of Soul.
* Symbolism: Riding a Lipizzaner horse—a breed born black and turning white with age—served as commentary on the whitewashing of country music’s Black roots. She featured Ja’Dayia Kursh, Arkansas’s first Black rodeo queen, alongside veiled singers referencing the Yoruba Eyo Festival.
* Nods to Houston: Still Tippin’ (2004) played by a violin while showcasing Black cowboys and Black rodeo is a nod to Houston via the song, where “tippin’” refers to being on 4s, wrapped in four Vogues. These are rims on 1994 Cadillacs (slabbin’). It’s also a reference to the Acres Homes area of Houston, Texas—the “fo-fo” comes from the 44 Metro bus that services the community.
Elevating Others
Watching Beyoncé sing with Tanner Adell, Tiera Kennedy, Reyna Roberts, and Brittney Spencer—all beautiful women in white—was mesmerizing.
Blackbird singing in the dead of nightTake these sunken eyes and learn to seeAll your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to be freeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise.
Beyoncé didn’t just own 13 minutes—she shared it. She gave everyone who rocks with her a moment to arise and be free:
* The Blackbirds Ensemble: Beyoncé’s group of powerful women performed a reimagining of the Beatles’ Blackbird, a song written by Paul McCartney and inspired by the Civil Rights Movement. The harmony and sisterhood were palpable as they sang. I could feel their support as they stood behind her, holding her up as she walked on, head held high, ready to finish the show.
* Small businesses: Latina entrepreneurs behind ASN Hats created her iconic white hat, a piece now featured on billboards and in advertisements worldwide.
* Young artists: Rising country singers shared the stage, including Shaboozey, whose chart-topping country song—snubbed by the CMAs—finally received its moment to shine. Post Malone also joined Beyoncé on stage, grinning and reveling in the energy of the moment.
* Legacy: Beyoncé’s daughter, Blue Ivy, performed beside her, continuing the tradition of Black cultural storytelling for a new generation.
We’re Not in Competition With Ourselves
Island Queen, my first historical fiction novel, recounts the extraordinary true story of Dorothy Kirwan Thomas—a Black woman who purchased her own freedom and that of her family before building a business empire across the West Indies. Released in 2021, it was my 17th or 18th book, yet some hailed it as my first “serious” work. Ah… but that’s a topic for another podcast.
Translated—or soon to be translated—into Italian, Russian, and Hungarian, Island Queen is one of my most widely circulated titles. I still remember the goosebumps coursing through my arms when it was picked as a GMA Buzz Pick. The magical moment of seeing my book on air and T.J. Holmes, George Stephanopoulos, and Robin Roberts discussing Island Queen was thrilling. And when they declared they were “all in” with my characterization of Dorothy as Dolly Parton, Gloria Steinem, and Oprah wrapped in Regency lace; bang, I shot to the moon.
But then came a troubling question. An acquaintance, let’s call her, Devilena, asked, How do you top this, Vanessa? She followed up with—oh the pressure. She could never dream of writing something better.
I must admit, the notion of topping anything left me a little paralyzed. How does one top that? After all, where does one find another powerhouse combination of Dolly, Gloria, Oprah—and lace?
But this is the wrong mindset.
Follow Beyoncé’s lead. For Beyoncé Bowl, she could have sung Crazy in Love, the 2003 hit that launched her solo career. It’s a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. Or she could have drawn from her rich catalog of award-winning, global hits:
* Irreplaceable (2006)
* Single Ladies (2008)
* Halo (2009)
* Love on Top (2011)
* Run the World (2011)
* Partition (2013)
* Drunk in Love (2013)
* Formation (2016)
* Cuff It (2022)
Beyoncé could reach back to her Destiny’s Child days and give us hits like:
* Bills, Bills, Bills (1999)
* Say My Name (1999)
* Survivor (2001)
* Bootylicious (2001)
But she didn’t. She didn’t Coachella us. Instead, she performed songs from her current country album, Act II: Cowboy Carter.
It’s not about topping the past—it’s about sharpening your craft. Beyoncé isn’t resting on her laurels; she’s working every aspect of her artistry. Bang. Here it is. Bang. Here I am.
When I write, I must remember I’m not competing with others—or even myself. My goal is to create the most compelling work I can. At its core, every artist—whether working with audio, written words, or visual media—is in competition against time. Everyone has a finite number of hours to create, share, and leave a legacy.
With Your 13 Minutes
Be like Beyoncé. Focus on the story you want to tell. Make it intentional. Make it bold. Make it better. Make it characteristically yours. Execute. Build your table, invite those who celebrate with you to rock with you. And remember to use your gifts to lift others as you rise. You’re Blackbirds, after all.
All your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to be free.
Blackbirds—writers, singers, artists—fly.Blackbird, take flight. Be free.
Special thanks to the Thread Beehive Scholars: @thelovelyp @candiceobeauty @latinaspoderosas @jadayiakursh @hellofelicia_murell @underthedesknews @hereswhykevin
And historians: Jon Marc Smith and Katie Kapruch, Texas State University
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
What does the word “diverse” mean to you when you see it in relation to books and publishing? For some, it is joy. It means being seen. It’s a celebration. For others, it is a tag to “otherize” and foment hate. In publishing, it means a journey fraught with both peril and joy. Today, I’m going to give you a state of affairs. In true fashion, I will present the history of diverse publishing in the U.S., work through some of the issues, and then invite you to be a part of the conversation.
Vanessa Riley standing on her porch being diverse, holding two genres: mystery and romance… with Black people.
Let’s Unpack the Word Itself
“Diverse” is often used in publishing as shorthand for books that feature nonwhite characters, non-Western settings, LGBTQ+ protagonists, or disabled representation. But here’s the thing: diverse only exists in contrast to what’s considered “normal”—a category still largely defined by whiteness, heterosexuality, and able-bodiedness.
The term can unintentionally center whiteness as the default, as seen in publishing practices where diverse books are often marketed as niche or special interest, rather than universal. For example, promotional materials might highlight the diversity of a story as its primary selling point, rather than focusing on its universal themes or compelling narrative, subtly reinforcing the notion that these stories are “different.” Similarly, books featuring nonwhite protagonists are frequently segregated into separate categories, making them less visible to mainstream audiences. When someone says, “This book is so diverse,” what they’re often implying is, “This book is not about the kind of people or places I usually read about.” And if the word diverse causes discomfort, it’s worth asking why. What is it about encountering other perspectives that feels threatening, or so unfamiliar it warrants a disclaimer?
Subscribe for free. Get Vanessa’s take on publishing, challenges, and opportunities, drawing from her journey as an indie author turned traditionally published powerhouse: 25 novels and counting.
A Timeline of Diverse Movements in Publishing
The truth is, the push for diverse stories is nothing new. Starting as early as 1965, one can track the movement or small earthquakes that have changed the publishing industry:
* 1965: Formation of the Council on Interracial Books for Children, challenging racist stereotypes in children’s literature and advocating for inclusive stories.
* 1969: Launch of the Coretta Scott King Book Awards, recognizing outstanding African American authors and illustrators.
* 1975–1990s: A handful of authors break through (or are allowed to breakthrough), leaving a lasting impact on readers:
* James Baldwin – The Devil Finds Work (1976)
* Mildred D. Taylor – Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry (1976)
* Toni Morrison – Song of Solomon (1977)
* Maya Angelou – And Still I Rise (1978)
* Octavia E. Butler – Kindred (1979)
* Lucille Clifton – Two-Headed Woman (1980)
* Audre Lorde – The Cancer Journals (1980)
* bell hooks – Ain’t I a Woman? (1981)
* Angela Davis – Women, Race, & Class (1981)
* Alice Walker – The Color Purple (1982)
* Gloria Naylor – The Women of Brewster Place (1982)
* August Wilson – Fences (1985)
* Virginia Hamilton – The People Could Fly (1985)
* Rita Dove – Thomas and Beulah (1986)
* Walter Mosley – Devil in a Blue Dress (1990)
* Terry McMillan – Waiting to Exhale (1992)
* Eva Rutland – The House Party (1991)
* Beverly Jenkins – Night Song (1994)
* Brenda Jackson – Tonight and Forever (1995)
One of my beloved bookshelves.
* 2000s: The #WeNeedDiverseBooks movement emerges, pushing publishers to examine their rosters. The next remnant of influential writers and works come to the forefront of publishing:
* Edwidge Danticat – The Dew Breaker (2004)
* Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie – Half of a Yellow Sun (2006)
* Toni Morrison – A Mercy (2008)
* Jesmyn Ward – Salvage the Bones (2011)
* Marlon James – A Brief History of Seven Killings (2014)
* Ta-Nehisi Coates — Between the World and Me (2015)
* Colson Whitehead – The Underground Railroad (2016)
* 2018: The Cooperative Children’s Book Center reports that books by or about Black, Indigenous, and People of Color make up only 10% of published books. (This has improved but remains a concern.)
* 2020: The murder of George Floyd spurs demand for anti-racism literature. Publishers pledge to diversify catalogs and increase representation in leadership. The #PublishingPaidMe movement highlights disparities in compensation for BIPOC authors.
Present Day
Initiatives like Blackout Bestsellers Week have faded, with sales and visibility campaigns showing diminishing participation. On June 25, 2025, Publishers Weekly headlined: “Layoffs Hit Little, Brown Editorial; Tracy Sherrod, More Depart.” The article states: “With the departure of Sherrod, the trade publishing industry has now seen three high-profile Black women depart from top positions since the big publishers made a public commitment to increase their diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts in the wake of the 2020 murder of George Floyd. Lisa Lucas was dismissed from Pantheon Schocken last month after three years at the imprint, while Dana Canedy left her role as SVP and publisher of the Simon & Schuster imprint in 2022, after two years.”
In August, the New York Times followed up with, “‘A Lot of Us Are Gone’: How the Push to Diversify Publishing Fell Short.” It detailed a system that allows trailblazers to become fatigued, new entrants discouraged, and emphasized the emotional toll of continuously advocating for inclusion in a resistant system.
Why This Matters to Me
Critics argue that many efforts remain performative. A lot of discourse feels performative. I remember a widely circulated screed on illustrated covers, advocating for photography instead. I sat there, quietly eating my lunch, knowing my most widely circulated and bought romance books are with illustrated covers—like A Duke, The Lady, and A Baby. Its sales dwarf my photorealistic covers, which showcase beautiful Black characters instead of race-ambiguous caricatures.
The trade cover of A Duke, The Lady, and A Baby.
I, a Black female writing disruptive stories about the true history of Black women and women of color—of Black folks finding love and dignity within systems that discourage anything but conformity—sometimes feel lost. A recent comment on my 2025 historical romance, A Wager at Midnight, read: “Love the diverse characters in this book. It doesn’t take away the romance or the fun. It actually enriches the romance.”
Say What?
I want to make something clear: reviewing is hard. Putting your thoughts out there, especially in today’s fraught cultural climate, takes guts. I have no intention of criticizing this reviewer personally. In fact, maybe they’re doing a service by signaling to nervous readers that diverse stories won’t accidentally make them “woke.”
A reader made a Funko Pop of Scarlet from a Wager at Midnight. That’s a reader’s excitement for the story.
But comments like these invite a larger conversation about how we perceive books by and about people who exist outside of the dominant narrative. While I deeply appreciate the kind words, the phrasing raises questions: Do readers, particularly white readers, still need reassurance that stories with diverse characters are “safe” to enjoy? Is the word diverse itself triggering? Does it bring hesitation?
Literature is one of the safest ways to explore unfamiliar perspectives. It costs nothing to empathize with characters who look different from you. In fact, it enriches you. Diverse or diversity shouldn’t trigger you. Ask why it does.
Moving Forward
Below are my personal thoughts on how we can reach a point where any book can excite any reader without clauses or pauses:
* Books by authors of color should be marketed as universal stories.
* Readers should challenge themselves to read widely all year, not just in February.
* Reviewers should recognize that their willingness to review, as well as the words they use, are invaluable in shaping narratives about what stories matter.
And if you want to read a “diverse” romance, check out A Wager at Midnight. I promise it’s a terrific read, full stop.
Be A Part of the Conversation
Add your comments and share your experiences. Authors, feel free to contribute your insights as well. I’ve posted a poll on Spotify to explore where readers stand. There’s no judgment—having open discussions is key to moving forward.
This is Vanessa. I’m looking forward to hearing from you!
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
For those of you who haven’t had thirty years practice interpreting my mom’s handwriting, here’s what it says:
There are many other opportunities to embarrass yourself at a wedding (and given the propensity of brides to hire photographers and videographers, these moments are captured for posterity). Even if you are only a guest, you aren’t immune to being caught up in the wedding disaster hall of fame. Dance floor escapades, bouquet toss brawls, and unplanned toasts are all fodder for the awkward situation generator.
