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.

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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 That’s outdated.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?

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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)

* Roxane Gay ( Roxane Gay) – Hunger (2017)

* Angie Thomas – The Hate U Give (2017)

* Michelle Obama – Becoming (2018)

* Ibram X. Kendi – How to Be an Antiracist (2019)

* Brit Bennett – The Vanishing Half (2020)

* 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