To the writers, the creatives: if you’re like me, you possess a deep curiosity about humanity and a desire to do good through your work. But creatives—are you struggling? Are deadlines slipping through your fingers? Is the blank page staring back at you, stubborn and bare?

Do you feel alone, like no will ride out to save you?

The truth is no one is coming, because we are all anxious and distracted. It’s hard not to be. Since our last episode, it feels like a million and one things have happened all at once.

I’ve seen creatives grappling with the still-high price of eggs, building skits about boycotts—or debates about debating boycotts—and the resurrection of TikTok sparking discussions about zombie-like timelines.

Time burns.

Writers wrestle with their roles. We try to create worlds, worlds that feel diverse and welcoming while rage-watching unqualified individuals ascend to power due to the privilege of their bank accounts or honestly whiteness or white associations. I’ve seen a spectacle of posts from people with crosses in their bios making rage filled takes on what Jesus would or would not do.

How do we create, keep creating when everything around us is in flux and chaos? I usually have my act together. I plan and execute. This week I’ve let time get away from me. I’ve written and rewritten this very essay a multitude of times. I want to give you fresh mana every time I step to the microphone.

Then unexpectedly, clarity came during a celebration of life for a dear friend’s grandmother.

Watching a montage of Mrs. Dorothy’s life in photos, hearing testimonies of love, and, most poignantly, listening to the words of her longtime best friend moved me deeply. Her bestie described their years of shared laughter, prayer, and adventures—as missions of foolery at bars, late-night Thelma-and-Louise-style escapades, and their unshakable bond.

When the bestie shared a piece of wall art Mrs. Dorothy had made for her, I choked up. Hung in a gilded frame, the red and orange colors radiated joy. I felt the sisterly love and support. The bestie said that everything wasn’t always perfect between them, but they knew that either would ride to hell and back for the other.

At that moment, I knew what I had to write. The question that cut into my soul—are you someone’s ride or die? Are you someone’s safe harbor, their distraction from life’s destructive winds? Or are you a danger in disguise, someone who, by intent or accident, dims their light?

“Vanessa, why so serious?” We are living in serious times. Everything must be purposeful. We need to think before we speak. James 1:19-20, says something like, brothers and sisters, everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, because anger does not produce righteousness.”

Why should we do this slow think? It doesn’t feel good. If I just post on social…

No. These social media streets are meaner than ever. And the consequences of a good jab, a quick retort, can have monstrous FAFO reactions. Let me tell you a few short stories to illustrate this.

There was once a phenomenal female painter whose work celebrated women and cultural pride with breathtaking power. At the height of her talent, she was mostly ignored. Society lauded her famous husband as the true genius. She was told to be quiet, to support him, to be lesser. I imagine, she often looked up at the sky and wondered why there wasn’t enough light for two.

There was a humble poet who burned to tell the stories of ordinary people. When she poured her heart into her writing, critics dismissed her. They wanted stories about the elite, not the impoverished. The fire in her soul left no room for compromise, but her enemies sought to bury her work. They succeeded. No one rode to save her. She died impoverished and in obscurity. She closed her eyes knowing her peers had deliberately dimmed her light.

There was once a collector who nurtured others’ prose. She gave so much of herself that her own work was overlooked. After publishing several novels with little acclaim, she gazed at the starry sky and wished there was enough light for her mentees and her too.

Imagine women dying spent of their energy and grace, dismissed, barely acknowledged. Unfortunately for a female creator, these are not anomalies.

Women Who Didn’t Live to See Their Due

Artemisia Gentileschi (1593–1656): An Italian Baroque painter whose powerful depictions of women, such as Judith Slaying Holofernes, were overshadowed by her male contemporaries. Today, she is celebrated as one of the Baroque period’s greatest artists.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651–1695): A Mexican nun and writer whose literary works were suppressed by church authorities. Forced to sell her library of collected books, she soon died. Her best known work Reply to Sister Filotea of the Cross is a defense of women’s education. Today, she’s a feminist icon.

Emily Dickinson (1830–1886): The American poet published fewer than a dozen of her nearly 1,800 poems during her lifetime. Today, she’s a legend.

Zora Neale Hurston (1891–1960): A giant of the Harlem Renaissance, Hurston’s work was erased from mainstream consciousness for decades. She died in poverty and was buried in an unmarked grave.

Frida Kahlo (1907–1954): Often overshadowed by her husband, Diego Rivera, Kahlo’s work is now recognized worldwide as a celebration of womanhood and Mexican culture.

There are more—always countless more women who are dismissed and their greatness only acknowledged posthumously. Death and decades of time shouldn’t be prerequisites for a creative to get their due.

Back to my earlier stories, I have some posthumous updates.

The Ignored Artist: Frida KahloAlways in the shadow of her husband, the famed 1920s painter Diego Rivera, Frida’s talents were noted and championed by art-world luminaries like socialite Lupe Marín (Diego’s first wife) and photographer Tina Modotti. Lupe introduced Frida to influential figures in the art world, while Tina captured stunning photographs that catapulted Frida’s reputation. These two women helped elevate Frida’s distinctive style and works, including her 1926 piece, Self-Portrait in a Velvet Dress. Their support was instrumental in promoting her art in Mexico and beyond, eventually earning Frida the global acclaim she deserved.

The Hobbled Writer: Zora Neale HurstonStory two was about the gifted Zora. During her lifetime, Zora was celebrated as a writer of the Harlem Renaissance. However, after the 1940s, her work fell out of favor. She was criticized by contemporaries for not explicitly addressing racism or aligning with the civil rights movement. Her focus was on everyday folk and folklore. This divergence caused the literary elites to push her into obscurity. Shunned and misunderstood, Zora died in poverty in 1960, and yes, buried in an unmarked grave.

Enter burgeoning writer Alice Walker (The Color Purple), who encountered Zora’s Their Eyes Were Watching God in graduate school around the 1970s, a decade after Zora’s death. Profoundly changed by the novel, Alice was shocked that Zora’s legacy had been erased. Determined to restore it, she feverishly researched Zora’s life, eventually writing an essay for Ms. Magazine titled “Looking for Zora.” Alice located Zora’s unmarked grave and purchased a headstone, inscribed with: “Zora Neale Hurston: A Genius of the South.”

The Dismissed Editor: Jessie Redmon FausetJessie (1882–1961) was a vital figure of the Harlem Renaissance, yet her work was undervalued in her lifetime and largely forgotten until the feminist and civil rights movements of the 70s. I recently read an advanced copy of Harlem Rhapsody by Victoria Christopher Murray, which chronicles Jessie’s life. Victoria beautifully highlights how the editor’s dreams were often sacrificed to nurture younger Harlem Renaissance writers like Langston Hughes. Her contributions to literature and her own novels deserve the same spotlight:

* There is Confusion (1924): Examines issues of race and ambition among Black professionals.

* Plum Bun (1928): Explores passing and the complexities of identity, a theme that may have influenced her friend Nella Larsen’s Passing.

* The Chinaberry Tree (1931): Focuses on family dynamics and societal expectations within Black communities.

* Comedy: American Style (1933): A biting critique of internalized racism and the pursuit of whiteness.

Thank you, Victoria, for returning Jessie to our lexicon.

That’s what I love about research and writing. Pen to paper, words forming sentences—we get to take readers back in time and restore women. In Sister Mother Warrior, I rediscovered Marie-Claire Bonheur, the first Empress of Haiti, and Gran Toya, a counselor and African military leader to Emperor Jacques I (Jean-Jacques Dessalines). These two women, connected to the man who liberated Haiti, were crucial to shaping the Haitian Revolution. Within the prose, I built the respect and friendship that developed between these two polar opposites. That’s right opposite can respect and ride for each other.

With fiction based loosely on historical events and people, I ride for the forgotten and amplify sisterly ideals. In A Gamble at Sunset and the forthcoming A Wager at Midnight, I deliberately showcase the Wilcox sisters’ relationship. These Black women are far from perfect. They won’t be painted or captured in a pristine sonnet. They’re messy and passionate. Their ability to listen and not judge is constantly tested, but they will ride at dawn for their sister.

We need that energy now. Listen closely: I’m not interested in performative protests. I don’t want my exhausted sisters lifting a finger for something that’s not well thought out. I refuse to witness the front of a firing line, because the loudest folk dropped away and hid.

Moreover I don’t want to see sisters picking apart another sister or their art for clicks or because they disagree. We’re blessed that Lupe and Tina weren’t judgmental in their love for Frida. Alice didn’t care that Zora wrote differently from her. She didn’t question Zora’s identity or love for her people. Alice stood in the gap and worked to elevate Zora. She returned her to us and bought a headstone to honor a woman, she’d only met in reading the dismissed words of Their Eyes Were Watching God.

What I’m saying is: In these times of turmoil and distress, leave petty differences behind. Ride or die for the freedom, freedom to produce art. Don’t let your sisters die in poverty. Don’t let them leave this earth without tasting the fruit of the seeds they planted. In a world of chaos, be Lupe, Tina, or Alice—or any other writer who restore our ancestors to us.

My dear creatives, ride or die or get out the way.

If you want a deeper dive into some of the books mentioned here’s the list:

The Answer / La Respuesta (Expanded Edition): Including Sor Filotea’s Letter and New Selected Poems. Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz. The Feminist Press at CUNY, 2009. 2nd ed.

The Chinaberry Tree. Jessie Redmon Fauset. Dover Publications, 2013.

The Color Purple. Alice Walker. Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1982.

Comedy: American Style. Jessie Redmon Fauset. Rutgers University Press, 1933.

A Gamble at Sunset. Vanessa Riley. Kensington, 2024.

Harlem Rhapsody. Victoria Christopher Murray. Berkeley, 2025.

Plum Bun. Jessie Redmon Fauset. Beacon Press, 1928.

Sister Mother Warrior. Vanessa Riley. William Morrow, 2022.

There Is Confusion. Jessie Redmon Fauset. Dover Publications, 1920.

Their Eyes Were Watching God. Zora Neale Hurston. J. B. Lippincott & Co., 1937.

A Wager at Midnight. Vanessa Riley. Kensington, 2025.

One additional resource, the additional essay Alice wrote, “Looking for Zora” is in this collection: Walker, Alice. In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1983.

Thanks for reading Vanessa Riley’s Write of Passage! Subscribe for free. Get Vanessa’s take on publishing and the world, drawing from her journey as an indie author turned traditionally published powerhouse: 25 novels and counting..

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

Originally posted 2025-01-28 14:10:00.

About nine years ago, my husband, military man, went on several trips and took his camera.

He’s a wonderful amateur photographer — the kind who captures dozens and dozens of shots, each one filled with life and beauty… and then does absolutely nothing with them. Hence, the “amateur” part.

But I loved those photos. I was proud of him — of the way he saw the world through his lens. So one day, I picked three of my favorites, had them matted and framed, and was so excited to surprise him. I showed them to him, and he smiled, but somehow, we never found the right place to hang them.

And then, in 2016, our world turned upside down.

Within four months, I lost my mother and my aunt. My husband lost his grandfather, his uncle, and then his father. My mother and his father passed less than thirty days apart. Much of that year is a blur — a fog of grief and exhaustion. I remember canceling conferences, canceling plans, canceling everything.

At the time, I was still indie, and thankfully I didn’t have immediate deadlines. But I’d just signed a contract with Entangled, meaning books would be due the following year. I think having that distant goal — something on the horizon — kept me sane. Kept us sane.

But I never went back to hanging those pictures.

There’s something to be said about starting a project with the best intentions, only to have life — or death — interrupt it. Sometimes it’s loss, sometimes it’s chaos, and sometimes it’s just the price of eggs that knocks us off balance.

But at some point, we have to shake it all off and return to the dream.

We have to forgive ourselves for the delays, for the detours, for the times we needed to rest. Because rest matters. Detours matter. Reflection matters.

If you’re a Type A person like me, it’s hard to stop the world and say, “I’m hurting,” or “I can’t do this right now.” But we owe it to ourselves to take that pause — to grieve, to reflect, to forgive. Forgive the people who hurt us, forgive the ones who didn’t show up when we needed them, and forgive ourselves for stumbling.

And when we’re ready, we have to return. To the old normal. To the unfinished dream.

Today, I did that.

I cleaned the room I’ll forever call Grama’s Room — in honor of my mother — and I finally hung those pictures. After nine years.

And when my husband saw them, when he smiled with that quiet pride, I felt something shift. A bit of healing. A touch of restoration. The simple goodness of completion.

November is the month where many of us sit down to start something new — the next novel, memoir, self-help guide, or story that might bring hope and light to the world.

So, I say this: whatever dream you’ve set aside, whatever picture you’ve been meaning to hang, whatever story you’ve been dreaming of telling — go back to it.

It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. You still have another moment. Don’t waste it.

Look around. Find the dream that’s been waiting patiently for you. Get back to your first love — to the idea that once made you wake up smiling, that kept you up at night thinking, “What if I really could do this?”

Right now, I’m two months away from releasing Fire Sword and Sea. It took two years to write that book — two years of wrestling with story, of getting it right, of honoring the women who risked everything to chase a dream.

It’s brave. It’s daring. It’s a little bit crazy.

But sometimes, you have to be all three.

So I urge you: be a pirate. Command your own ship. Gather your crew. And finish your mission — whatever that may be.

This is Vanessa, giving you permission to forgive yourself, to pick up your sword, and to get going.

Oh — and hang those pictures, too.

This week’s booklist for the writers and the procrastinators:

Atomic Habits by James Clear — A practical guide to breaking bad habits and building consistent routines through tiny, incremental changes that compound into remarkable results.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield — A powerful manifesto that exposes the internal “Resistance” keeping writers and creators from doing the work and shows how to overcome it with discipline and courage.

Finish: Give Yourself the Gift of Done by Jon Acuff — A witty, motivating look at why perfectionism kills progress and how embracing imperfection helps you actually complete what you start.

Living Forward by Michael Hyatt and Daniel Harkavy — A purposeful roadmap for designing a life plan that aligns daily actions with long-term vision, helping creatives reclaim time and focus.

Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes — A candid, joyful memoir about how saying “yes” to fear, opportunity, and authenticity transformed the creator of Grey’s Anatomy into a more confident and fulfilled version of herself.

This week, I’m highlighting Eagle Eye Book Shop through their website and Bookshop.org

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Eagle Eye Eye or one of my partners in the fight, bookstore’s large and small who are in this with me.

We are two months away from the January 13th release. Please spread the word and preorder this adventure about Caribbean women pirates of the 1600s. Piracy is legal. It’s their escape, and answer to prayer. Thanks to shipping pirates—I’m out of physical arcs but Fire Sword and Sea is up on Edelweiss and NetGalley. So go get digital review copies.

And remember to get collector cards with your preorder. Then tell me, who’s on your crew?

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 part of my crew, hit that like button and join me by subscribing and sharing Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We need each other to get to the other side of hard together.

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

As a writer, I love giving readers something they didn’t expect. When plotting a murder mystery, I meticulously plant clues, red herrings, and unexpected connections, ensuring readers will turn the pages, eager for what’s next. The writer’s mind is a playground. It’s the world as we know it—the familiar, the structured, and the understood. Readers are conditioned for the norm. But when a writer disrupts the mundane, offering a twist, it intrigues and refreshes.

We’re curious beings. We crave learning and understanding. We seek order. Flipping gender roles or challenging leadership expectations is a surefire way to shake things up and offer a new perspective.

Last year, I wrote a scene I initially thought was humorous: an 1800s heroine, desperate to become a physician, disguises herself as a man to attend medical lectures. At the time, women were barred from pursuing careers as scientists or physicians, often resorting to extraordinary measures to follow their passions. In the scene, Scarlett, the determined heroine, is on the verge of being discovered. Her nemesis, an immigrant physician named Steven, steps in to save her by pretending she’s his male cousin. This clever ruse spares Scarlett from scandal but forces her to blend in with the men—including accompanying them to a brothel. Turning the tables, Scarlett ends up saving Steven. While he’s incapacitated during a narcoleptic episode, she kisses him, adding what I thought was a layer of comedic drama to the brothel scene.

Here’s the rub: that kiss happened without his consent. He was barely conscious. It doesn’t matter if it was funny, if readers were in on the joke, or if it showcased her autonomy. By giving her this power, I stripped his from him.

That moment had to change. I deleted the kiss. The scene in A Wager at Midnight is still funny, still scandalous, but it’s respectful. Some may say, “Vanessa, lighten up—it’s humor! And don’t we need more joy in the world?” All true. But here’s a greater truth: consent is not a double standard. It’s a rule. It’s a right. Everyone’s “no” should carry the same weight we modern women demand for ourselves.

A Wager at Midnight releases March 25.

The ability to say no is sacred. To paraphrase Matthew 5:37, “All you need to say is Yes or No; anything beyond this comes from the devil.”

Many of you might be nodding in agreement. Yet this week reminds us that some people still struggle with a woman’s no—especially when that woman is Black.

This week, a spokesman for the office of Barack and Michelle Obama announced that Mrs. Obama would not attend the 2025 inauguration. Unlike her absence from President Carter’s funeral, which was attributed to a scheduling conflict, this was a clear, definitive, unexplained no.

Reactions have been predictable. Some applaud her for setting boundaries, acknowledging the toll of public life and the personal risks she and her family have endured. Others clutch their pearls, lamenting political norms—those quaint phrases that, bless their hearts, weren’t universally applied when it mattered most.

Meanwhile, my people—oh, you know who you are—created a delicious meme that summed it all up: If I send you Michelle’s picture, I’m not coming.

From: @jennmjacksonphd

These memes reminded me of the ones sparked by Anita Baker when her concert, scheduled to start at 7 p.m. on May 11, 2024, at State Farm Arena in Atlanta, was canceled at 6:54 p.m. due to “unforeseen circumstances.”

@sweet.alpha.lady from TikTok

I’ll admit, these memes are funny. But looking at the popularity of these memes reveals something sobering: Are women the only ones who cancel? Why aren’t there memes like these for men who say no? Do they not have the agency to do so?

Of course, that’s sarcasm—because men cancel all the time. They just aren’t mocked as much.

Chris Rock, for instance, canceled hosting the 2022 Governor’s Award after his infamous Oscar slap. If humor is fair game, where’s the meme with his picture saying, “Naw. Sorry I can’t be there. Still recovering from saying the wrong thing.”

Or take James Franco, who “mentally didn’t show up” to co-host the 2011 Oscars. Sure, he was physically present, but he failed to fulfill his duties. Anne Hathaway, the other co-host, had to carry the night. A woman having to pick up the slack? That sounds familiar—and is definitely meme-worthy.

Nonetheless, people have a right to cancel, just as they have a right to say no. That includes celebrities. Saying no should be a human right. But for that to hold true, society must first recognize the humanity and autonomy of every person who withdraws their consent.

Historically, women have struggled with autonomy and consent. For much of US history, women were required to live under the authority of a father, husband, or male guardian. It wasn’t until 1974 that women were allowed to obtain credit cards in their own name. Equal pay legislation dates back only to the 1960s. The societal acknowledgment of a woman’s right to make her way in the world is lacking. It’s hard to understand that a woman’s ability to work for fair wages and to decide her own path is merely sixty-five years old. That’s not that old. It’s barely able to get social security.

Alas, the history is bleaker for Black women. For us, the ability to say no to the most egregious violations was often denied. Our consent was stolen by laws, society, and systems meant to promote and protect others.

A Timeline of Black Women and the Right to Say No

1662: Virginia Hereditary Slave LawChildren’s status (enslaved or free) followed their mother, stripping Black women of autonomy over their offspring. Sidenote: This came about because Elizabeth Key, born to an enslaved woman and a white Englishman, Thomas Key, legally gained her freedom in 1655 by arguing that she was baptized and freed by her father. The 1662 law was enacted to ensure such cases could never happen again.

1705: Virginia Slave CodesThese codes reduced enslaved people to property. This codifies sexual violence against all enslaved but particularly Black women.

1786: Tignon Laws (Louisiana)Black women were forced to cover their hair in public, erasing their self-expression and identity.

1857: Dred Scott v. SandfordThis decision denied Black people citizenship. This reaffirms that Black men and women are without legal rights to refuse exploitation or violence, nationwide.

1865–1866: Black CodesRestrictive laws curtailed freedwomen’s mobility and punished those who refused exploitative labor with vagrancy charges.

1927: Buck v. BellThis Supreme Court decision upheld forced sterilization laws targeting Black women under eugenics programs.

1944: The Rape Case of Recy TaylorRecy Taylor identified her six white attackers, but they were never brought to justice. Alabama apologized only in 2011.

1980s: Workplace Dress CodesBans on natural hairstyles like braids and afros forced Black women to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards.

1994: Violence Against Women Act (VAWA)While a step forward, this legislation didn’t fully address the unique barriers Black women face in seeking protection such as underreporting, racial profiling, mistrust in authority, and Access to Culturally Competent Services.

Of course there are some wins.

1967: Loving v. VirginiaThis landmark case struck down laws eliminating restrictions on who women could marry.

1973: Relf v. WeinbergerThis case exposed federally funded forced sterilizations of Black women, helping to end the practice.

2019–Present: The CROWN ActThis legislation prohibits discrimination based on natural hairstyles, affirming Black women’s autonomy over their appearance.

So, parity with others—being legally able to say yes to bodily autonomy and hairstyles—is less than a decade old for Black women. That should horrify you.

As a Black woman and a lover of history, I’m often told to forgive and forget—and there’s a heavy emphasis on forgiveness and a whole lot of forgetting. That notion is anathema to my soul. My lungs struggle to seize air under the weight of ongoing restrictions. There are new laws stripping away hard-fought rights. Fear and foolishness is trying to make hard-won victories DEI casualties. It’s book bans, whitewashed textbooks, tone policing, and countless microaggressions designed to smother.

Breathe.

Hear my heart: autonomy for me doesn’t mean taking from you. Equality for one group doesn’t mean making any other lesser. Checking on my sista doesn’t mean I wish ill on others—or the misters. We all gain when everyone’s yes and no are respected.

Writers, readers, citizens, hear me. Let us be wise with our words, speaking peace into existence. Let us remember and listen. Let us accept that no is a complete sentence, without the need for adjectives or explanations.

In times such as these when injustice still reigns, people have the right to step back, breathe, and find their peace.

Writers, I encourage you to take a more critical eye to your work. Let’s not ignore the forces trying to strip away consent—through laws, norms, even memes disguised as humor. We wield power with our words, and we should all consent to building up and renewing everyone who reads them.

If you want a deeper dive into the intersectionality of it all, as a book girly I have some recommendations for you:

Women, Race & Class by Angela Y. Davis explores the historical struggles of women, especially Black women, to claim autonomy and say no to oppression.

They Were Her Property by Stephanie E. Jones-Rogers, examines the role of white women in the American slave economy and highlights the systemic oppression of Black women.

Take My Hand by Dolen Perkins-Valdez, provides important connections between her novel and the case of Relf v. Weinberger and forced sterilizations.

Sister Citizen by Melissa V. Harris-Perry, analyzes how stereotypes affect Black women’s lives and their ability to assert agency.

Ain’t I a Woman? by bell hooks explores the intersections of race and gender and the marginalization of Black women.

Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall, highlights the importance of boundaries and self-advocacy, especially for marginalized communities.

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.

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

Originally posted 2025-01-21 14:10:00.

An image. A photograph. Sometimes we take them for granted. We snap our phones so quickly, only to scroll through them for social posts or store them for infinity in clouds.

Does anyone remember having to take a roll of film out of a camera with care—rolling it up, taking it to be developed? Anyone remember what it felt like to wait to pick up the prints? Now we have so many at our fingertips that many of these images will never be opened again.

Technology has advanced, and we all walk around with a digital lens to analyze the world. Everyone can capture history or life with a click. And especially in our constantly moving 24-hour news cycle, images can start to lose their meaning. Of course, we begin to feel their value again when something like—oh, I don’t know—authoritarianism creeps in and tries to keep us from seeing things and asking questions.

Pictures are meant to help us save our moments. I saw one this week, that I can’t get out of my head. It’s not traumatic; it’s not painful. It’s lovely, very heartwarming. It’s of a ballerina and a dancer turned choreographer and teacher.

On October 22, 2025, Misty Copeland took her final bow with the American Ballet Theatre in New York. Misty came on stage for applause, and Debbie Allen—the icon—embraced her.

The moment stopped me. To see a legend embracing another legend—it’s powerful. It’s the kind of image that reminds you what legacy looks like. It says: You’ve finished this part of your journey, and the next part will be even better. You’ll touch more people, like I have. And you can also take a moment to rest and enjoy what you’ve accomplished. You can feel that warmth, that love, that encouragement radiating through the hug.

And honestly, in these times—when the government has shut down, when benefits are threatened, when healthcare costs could skyrocket, and so many people are drowning in anxiety—that kind of reassurance, that quiet “I’ve been there, and you’re going to be all right,” means the world.

This week, I went to the 21st Cavalcade in Chicago, hosted by my dear friend, author Lissa Woodson. It was a reunion of sorts—people who were there at the very beginning of my writing journey came, as well as many new faces just starting theirs. It was a good time full of hugs and laughs. Dear author buddy and Fun Friday Girl, Pat Simmons, arrived and brought even more fun. I snapped a selfie of us.

Panya, one of my dear friends from college, came, and we shared dinner, more laughter, and stories about our children, husbands, and our global lives. Every small moment is to be savored and captured—not only on phones but in our hearts and minds. And I had the waiter snap a photo of us.

A big part of the Cavalcade is being at the convention center and interfacing with the public. All of us, regardless of the stage of our careers—indie, hybrid, or traditional—we all hustled. We all tried to get someone to listen and maybe make a sale.

Oh, the memories this brings back.

And I hope the new authors there felt welcomed and hugged upon. I want them to know: Hey, it may be rocky right now, but it’s going to be all right.

And let me just say this: Author MarZé Scott gives the best hugs known to humankind. I’m convinced she’s secretly a chiropractor because she hugs you just right. You don’t just feel safe—you feel loved, deeply loved, and spine-straightened—even if you’ve only just met. That’s a rare gift: to be medicinal, maternal, and downright cool. I hope she knows how special it is to receive her hug and the impression she leaves with everyone she embraces.

Lissa snapped our picture. I’m grateful for each picture, each moment captured now and forever. These stills remind me of the love, the connection, the humanity we share. We’re moving into the holiday season—Thanksgiving’s on the horizon. It’s time to donate hugs—give to food pantries, check in on people who might be lonely or forgotten. Share your time. Everyone’s going through something. And this season, we need to be a little kinder, a little more forgiving.

That’s the power of a hug. It wrings out the bitterness from the soul and leaves space for goodness.

Now, I’ve added to my phone those pictures of Debbie Allen and Misty Copeland hugging. I even went scrolling to see if Debbie hugged Shonda Rhimes—I’m pretty sure they did offstage at their recent Atlanta/Dekalb meet-up to celebrate The Year of Yes. If not for the Cavalcade, I would’ve been at Shonda’s tour stop.

My Year of Yes was 2019, which began my journey into writing historical fiction—finally taking the stories I’d grown up hearing or stumbled upon in research and actually writing them. Before my Year of Yes, I’d been told by agents and editors that there was no interest in historical novels that singularly focused on Black women—particularly of Caribbean descent—as the heroes of their own lives. I’m very proud to have birthed three such novels into the world (Island Queen, Sister Mother Warrior, Queen of Exiles) and to be about to birth a fourth: Fire Sword and Sea, coming January 13, 2026.

Yet, as I look out at the world, I think we need more hugs—more soft places to land—as the landscape keeps shifting and going backward, where the needle of what’s important or print-worthy is dictated by algorithms and viral images on social media.

So in this season, when patience runs thin, when anxiety is high and irritation is always just around the corner—find those huggers. Let them give you a good embrace. Let it cleanse your soul a little. And as always, hug your writer friends. Let them know that there is more good road ahead for their feet—and their keyboards—to follow.

Today List of books is for the huggers:

Year of Yes: 10th Anniversary Edition by Shonda Rhimes — In this expanded edition, the bestselling TV-creator reflects on how saying “yes” changed her life and invites readers to step into their own.

Stop in the Name of Love by Naleighna Kai and U.M. Hiram — An emotionally charged romance where passion collides with faith, family, and hard choices that test both heart and conscience.

King Of South Shore by MarZé Scott — A secretive millionaire real-estate mogul’s romance could end before things really get started.

Dancing in the Wings by Debbie Allen is a lovely children’s book that loosely is based on the actress’s own experiences as a young dancer.

Contempt by Pat Simmons — Grandma BB orchestrates a practice funeral for the Jamieson clan, but unexpected surprises and an uninvited guest turn the evening into a lively, unforgettable family gathering.

This week, I’m highlighting FoxTale Bookshoppe through their website and Bookshop.org

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from FoxTale or one of my partners in the fight, bookstore’s large and small who are in this with me.

We are less three months away the January 13th release. Please spread the word and preorder this adventure about Caribbean women pirates of the 1600s. Piracy is legal. It’s their escape, and answer to prayer. And remember to get collector cards with your preorder. Then tell me, who’s on your crew?

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 on board this ship, hit that like button and subscribe and share Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We have work to do. And I need 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

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.

* God Will Carry You Through by Max Lucado: Reflections on God’s sustaining grace.

* Sing, Unburied, Sing by Jesmyn Ward: A haunting exploration of grief and resilience.

* Breathe: A Letter to My Sons by IMANI PERRY: A lyrical exploration of life, love, resilience and grief and systematic loss.

* See You on the Other Side by Rachel Montez Minor: A children’s book that provides comfort to the little ones grieving or coming to terms with loss.

Places We Can Donate

Money is action. Every little bit helps.

For LA, choose:

* World Central Kitchen

* United Way of Greater Los Angeles: Wildfire Response

* American Red Cross-Wildfire Relief

For Hurricane Helene, choose:

* United Way

* The Salvation Army

* All Hands and Hearts

Back To The Man from Plains

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

Originally posted 2025-01-14 14:10:00.

It started innocently enough. I’d been away for a weekend of trips. Monday morning, I thought, Let me check my email. That’s when the onslaught began.

A note — a perfectly polite one — popped to the top:

“Hi Vanessa,Thank you for writing such a wonderful story. I’d love to share my thoughts on Goodreads and help more people discover it.Warm regards,Rachel.”

Thank you, Rachel. I don’t know what book you read that moved you to writeright me (yes, she wrote right), but thanks.

I kept going through my emails, and Rachel wrote again.

“Hi there,Are you around? If you’re interested in getting the review, just reply with the word ‘Review.’ I’ll take it from there!”

Now, I already suspected Rachel was a bot. But Miss Rachel wasn’t done. She sent another message — and this time, she rudely implied that I’d missed a deadline.

In the entirety of my writing career, I’ve missed exactly one deadline. One. There have been times when I’ve needed more time, but I’ve always negotiated that weeks, sometimes months, in advance. The only time I ever truly missed a deadline — by two weeks — was during COVID, when everyone in my household (and extended family) caught it. It was stressful. I’m a Type A engineer by training, and believe me, that editor reminds me of it to this day.

But I digress.

As writers, we already have enough pressure. The market is shifting. Publishing lines are tightening. The expectation that social media alone can move huge swaths of books is both ridiculous and still the fairy dust traditional publishing counts on. And beyond all that pressure — the bots are coming for us.

So instead of holding a séance for spam or blocking every Gmail address with numbers in it, I decided to sic one robot on another. Thus began the latest episode in my ongoing saga: Robot vs. Robot: The War of the AI Cousins.

Now I’ve had my run in with Chat – please listen to Season 1: Episode 42 – AI Can’t Fake the Funk or the Fire. And you’ll see AI it’s everywhere.

So, I started by feeding these bot emails into ChatGPT. I wanted to see what it would say about its more mischievous relatives.

Take “Lilia C. Oram,” for example — a self-proclaimed Book Marketing Specialist who wrote me an essay-length love letter about my novel Queen of Exiles.

Her message read like a Ph.D. dissertation in flattery:

“Your novel Queen of Exiles is an exquisite and triumphant reimagining of Haiti’s Queen Marie-Louise Covidavid Christophe…”

Can’t you just hear the B.S. in that framing? She continued with alliteration worthy of a thesaurus marathon:

“With the right strategy, this extraordinary story can reach readers and institutions that celebrate narratives of resistance, identity, and freedom…”

Then, naturally, came the sales pitch — A+ Content Optimization, Goodreads Listopia placement, Amazon keyword targeting. In short, every SEO buzzword known to humankind.

ChatGPT barked and said:

Red Flags:

* Overly formal “praise-bomb” introduction.

* Immediate pivot to services.

* Fake “strategy” jargon — terms like “visual storytelling campaigns,” “Goodreads Listopia placement,” and “Amazon A+ content optimization” are standard scam-bait phrases. None of those services require outside contractors, and many are impossible or against Goodreads/Amazon policy.

* Generic Gmail addresses — a real agency would email from a company domain.

* Unrealistic promises — “global recognition,” “reach institutions,” “connect with readers of The House of Eve.” All empty marketing fluff.

My goodness, ChatGPT. I like your style. You’re kind of blatant.

The Booker Prize Blunder

Then came Imran. According to his email, he ran “The Booker Prize Longlist Book Club.”

Now, the real Booker Prize is one of literature’s jewels. So when “Imran” wrote to say his club was “captivated by The Bone Thief” and wanted to feature me in an upcoming author session, I nearly spat out my tea.

There were several problems. First, I didn’t write The Bone Thief. That’s Vanessa Lillie. And second, The Bone Thief did not win the Booker Prize — that was The Bone People by Keri Hulme in 1985. Well, I’ll be. I guess the bot thought all the Vanessas and people with bone books were the same.

ChatGPT wasn’t having it:

* You didn’t write The Bone Thief.A real literary book club — especially one invoking the Booker Prize — would never confuse your work with another author’s. This was a mass email sent to hundreds of writers using scraped names and random book titles.

* “The Booker Prize Longlist Book Club” doesn’t exist.The real Booker organization has an official site and verified socials. They don’t cold-email authors, and they never host “open author sessions” via random Gmail accounts.

* No institutional email address.If it’s not from @thebookerprizes.com or @bookerprizefoundation.org, it’s not real.

* The tone is suspiciously perfect.Words like captivated, haunting, moral complexity, and honored to host you — pure AI-generated flattery.

* The setup leads to a hook.If you reply, you’ll probably get a follow-up asking for a “booking fee,” “Zoom production support donation,” or “press kit submission cost.” That’s the classic second-step scam.

ChatGPT’s advice was simple:

* Don’t reply. Any engagement confirms your email is active.

* Mark as spam or phishing — it helps your provider learn.

* Report impersonations to the real organizations being mimicked.

When the Bots Come Marching In

If you’re an author, chances are you’ve met a bot like Imran, Lilia, or Rachel. They’re part of a growing spam ecosystem aimed squarely at creatives — the AI-powered, copy-paste, faux-professional outreach bot.

They know how to flatter. They know how to mimic sincerity. They even sprinkle in the occasional Oxford comma to seem literate.

So I asked Chat, what are we going to do about your cousins?”

And to its credit, ChatGPT turned into a snitch:

Chat said the following are tells:

* Vague praise.

* Immediate offer. They pivot fast to “services,” “placements,” or “features.”

* Gmail or Outlook addresses. No legitimate organization uses liliacoram64@gmail.com.

* Unrealistic promises. “Global recognition” is not a measurable Key Peformance Indicator.

* Keyword spells. “Just reply with the word REVIEW.” (Only bots or IG marketers talk like this.)

This is the new reality. I used to fear that robots would take my jobs.Now, I see they are being employed to spam my inboxes. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

But in a strange way, these exchanges remind me that technology, for all its intelligence, still lacks instinct. The bots can simulate empathy, but they can’t feel the exhaustion of 3 a.m. revisions, the fear of missing deadlines, or the desperation of wanting sincere recognition for our hard work.

They don’t know what it means to live a life of creative — only how to market badly to a creator.

Final Advice to Fellow Authors from a thug’s cousin, ChatGpt:

* Never click.

* Never reply.

* Always verify before you believe.

* And if the flattery is too good, assume it’s fake. No one writes that flowery for free.

And this is from Vanessa – remember your work is worthy of praise and real emails. Don’t give up or give space to the bots.

Books to help on our writing journey are:

5‑Minute Book Marketing for Authors: Great for if you’re short on time but still want consistent effort.

Book Marketing for Authors: Get Ready, Get Set, Succeed!: A solid all-round guide for authors transitioning from writing to marketing.

And of course the books mentioned by the bots:

The Bone Thief by Vanessa Lillie When a Native teenager vanishes from her small town—a place with dark ties to an elite historical society—archaeologist Syd Walker is called to investigate…from bestselling author Vanessa Lillie.

The Bone People, A Booker Prize Winner by Keri Hulme is a novel about the complicated relationships between three outcasts of mixed European and Maori heritage

The House of Eve by Sadeqa Johnson explores what it means to be a woman and a mother in the 1950s, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.

This week, I’m highlighting The Book Worm Bookstore through their website and Bookshop.org

We are three months away from Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build the momentum for this historical fiction. Please spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about lady pirates in the 1600s. They are women, many our Black and Indigenous. All want a better way of life. Piracy is legal. It’s their answer. It’s their prayer. This saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title. Get the collector cards. Who is on your crew?

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 and share Write of Passage. Never miss a moment. We have work to do. And I need You on my team.

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

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

Originally posted 2025-01-07 15:07:16.

This marks the third week I’ve been at a conference or retreat—three weeks of sharing my craft and my conviction that writing can, and does, change the world.

This past week, I had the distinct privilege of speaking at the Jane Austen Society of North America’s Annual General Meeting (AGM) in Baltimore, Maryland. Picture it: nearly 800 devoted Janeites, many dressed in exquisite Regency attire, their hearts united by a love of Austen’s words and worlds. Together, we gathered to celebrate her 250th birthday, to attend lectures by leading Austen scholars, to browse through stalls of clever trinkets and custom editions—and, to my amazement, to hear my thoughts on Austen’s influence on modern storytelling.

I was invited to share my perspective on writing, on adaptations, and the enduring relevance of Jane Austen. As a historical consultant for Hallmark’s 2024 adaptation of Sense and Sensibility, I’ve had the rare opportunity to help bring Austen’s timeless wit and social commentary into our dialogue with today’s audiences. Standing before hundreds of Austen lovers, I found myself reflecting not only on her genius but on how far the literary community—and I—have come.

If you had asked me five, even three, years ago whether I could imagine speaking at JASNA, I would have said no. Those years were turbulent for many organizations grappling with questions of diversity and inclusion—questions about who gets to sit at the table, whose stories are valued, and whose aren’t.

The Romance Writers of America (RWA) suffered a painful implosion and has struggled to regain its footing. The Regency Fiction Writers (formerly The Beau Monde chapter) took a different path, embracing diversity—of membership, of stories, of the Regency itself—and has grown to over 400 members. And now, seeing JASNA’s visible efforts toward inclusion, I feel very hopeful. From what I witnessed this weekend, it seems as though the Society is choosing the right side of history, the one where everyone who loves Jane is welcomed.

When I took the stage in front of more than 700 people, I spoke about my Jane. Not the quaint figure of teacups and curtsies, but a woman aware of her world—a writer who knew not only of tea and indigo, but of war and enslavement. I spoke of the broader Regency landscape, of women like Dorothy Kirwan Thomas, who funded Kensington House a school for mixed-race girls on Marylebone Street in London, and of the Queen of Haiti, whose reign overlapped precisely with the English Regency. Austen’s world, I reminded, was never as small or as whitewashed as it’s often portrayed.

When I spoke of film adaptation, I shared how every detail—from hair and costume to script and set design—was chosen with intention on the Hallmark project. The goal was not to modernize Austen, but to honor her and plausibly expand the visible world, that Jane knew as evidenced by her own inclusion of marginalized characters.

We wanted to tell stories that reflect pride and power without bowing to prejudice. I think Hallmarks succeeded. Yet, when I showed Facebook responses to the announcement of the film and how vile or witless some can be, I told the audience that the power of adaptation is in their hands. How you respond, what you welcome, makes a difference.

On Thursday night, I sat with longtime JASNA members—women who have been part of the Society for ten, twenty, even thirty years. They insisted that the organization wasn’t just a bunch readers in costume; they were true believers in Austen’s ideals: of intelligence, integrity, and independence of thought.

If an organization is to thrive, its reach must be more than cosplay. It must open real seats at the table, and its members must open their hearts and minds, actively creating spaces for everyone to feel welcome.

I am deeply grateful—to the Jane Austen Society of North America for their warmth, their curiosity, and their courage to expand the conversation. This was so much more than an AGM; it was a celebration of Austen’s 250th birthday, and the exhibition of the living, breathing legacy she continues to inspire.

This week’s book list includes:

Jane Austen’s Emma: A Sourcebook edited by Paula Byrne – Read this to see how Austen’s most socially astute novel emerges from the same complex world of class, gender, and perception that still challenges us to write—and adapt—with awareness.

The Making of Jane Austen by Devoney Looser – This lively history reveals how Austen herself has been continually adapted and reimagined, proving that every era.

3. A Guide to Regency Dress: From Corsets and Breeches to Bonnets and Muslins by Hilary Davidson – Essential for understanding the textures and details that bring authenticity to any adaptation.

4. Jane Austen: Visual Encyclopedia by Claire Saim and Gwen Giret – A feast for the eyes and mind, this illustrated compendium shows how Austen’s world continues to inspire art, film, and storytelling.

This week, I’m highlighting Brave and Kind Bookshop through their website and Bookshop.org

The preorder campaign has begun, get your collector cards for Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build momentum for this historical fiction. Please ask your local library to carry this novel. Come on. It’s lady pirates in the 1600s. This saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers that are in on the campaign. Get the collector cards while supplies last.

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

Our stories matter—tap like, hit subscribe, share, and let’s keep this movement alive with 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

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

Originally posted 2024-12-31 14:15:00.

I was at the James River Writers Conference this weekend in Richmond, Virginia—one of those places that fills your creative tank. I got to do what I love: hang out with writers. Hungry writers. People on fire to get their words into the world.

And of course, on one of my panels, the inevitable question came up: “What about AI? Are writers going to lose their jobs?”

Now, let me tell you something. If you opened my email inbox right now, you’d find about eight—maybe ten—AI-written marketing emails. Every single one is bad. Cringeworthy bad. Pseudo-personal, stuffed with buzzwords, maybe even a random line pulled from the blurb of Island Queen to make it sound like they actually know me. But give it a few more sentences, and it’s obvious—they don’t. They just tossed my name into a prompt, hit “generate,” and sent it flying into the void.

So I tell authors this: AI might be everywhere. It might be fast. But being everywhere and fast with crap doesn’t win you prizes, and it certainly doesn’t feed the hunger of readers looking for their next great adventure.

AI is supposed to save time—or so the marketing folks keep telling us. But when I spend half my morning clearing these AI-spam messages, I don’t see time saved. I see time stolen.

The emails all sound the same: “I’ve been following your amazing career!” or “I just loved your latest book!” or “I truly believe your book has the potential.” Or “You deserve more reviews.” That all might be true. Then, two lines later, they’re congratulating me on a novel I didn’t even write. One even mixed me up with another author completely.

That’s not artificial intelligence. That’s artificial nonsense.

And here’s what gets me. These marketers aren’t even good at using AI. They feed it bad prompts, copy-paste whatever it spits out, and send it to hundreds of people like me. It’s the new form of spam—shiny, overconfident, and hollow.

At the conference, one of my fellow panelists said something that stuck with me. He said he couldn’t think of a single real-world problem AI has solved. Investors are pouring billions into it, hoping it’ll fix something. But from where I sit, the only thing it’s “solved”—and I’m using air quotes here—is how to steal everyone’s work faster and give marketers another toy to misuse.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not anti-AI. It’s a tool, and tools can be useful when used wisely. But we’ve made it ubiquitous too fast, without guardrails or reflection. And those without our best interests in mind are using it to fleece people.

So, if you get one of those AI-assisted marketing emails in your inbox—mark it as spam. Don’t be fooled by fake flattery. If they’re offering some “exclusive service,” go straight to ChatGPT or Claude or one of the others and ask the same question. You’ll probably get the same result for free—or at least for a much lower monthly payment.

But let’s shift gears—because there’s more hope than fear. At that same conference, I saw what I love most: people learning. People hungry for craft, open to feedback, and ready to chase their dream of writing a book. When writers invest in themselves—show up to workshops, ask hard questions, lean into the fight to say something of value—it gives me hope.

When I hear someone say AI will put authors out of business, I just smile. What we do is too special for that. The dreams we carry, the stories only we can tell—AI can’t imagine them. It can remix what’s already stolen, sure. But it can’t reach into the unseen, the unspoken, the wilder parts of the human heart.

One of my fellow panelists, R. R. Virdi, put it perfectly: AI can only feed on itself. It can only regurgitate what it already knows. That spark of divine imagination—the moment a story idea hits like lightning—that’s still ours. And as long as we keep creating, we’ll always be ahead.

So to the marketers: maybe write your own emails. Try a little authenticity. Readers and customers can tell the difference.

And to my wonderful listeners—the dreamers, the students of the writing craft—I’ve got something exciting coming your way. I’m launching a Kickstarter for The Storycraft Writer’s Journal. It’s a tool I’ve built from years of speaking and teaching on writing—packed with my forms, formulas, and geeky plotting tricks to help you organize research, track writing beats, and create the kind of stories no algorithm could ever predict.

The best way to make sure AI doesn’t take your job is for you to keep writing and keep growing your talent, creating something only you can make.

Oh—and before I continue, reviews are rolling in for Fire Sword and Sea—and people are loving it. If you’re on NetGalley, grab an ARC and take that journey with Jacquotte Delahaye. There’s also a Goodreads giveaway running for twenty copies, but fair warning: I’m missing about thirty-two ARCs that got lost in the mail, so if you find a copy—digital or print hold on to it—that’s pure gold.

As I wrap up, my mandate to you is to not fear AI. Let’s outwrite it. Let’s outdream it. Let’s put our best ideas forward. No matter how many lines a tool can generate, it can’t fake the fire burning in a writer’s soul.

Books to match this week’s theme are:

The Storycraft Journal by Vanessa Riley. It’s more than a notebook or journal—it’s your yearlong writing companion. Designed for busy writers, procrastinators, and dreamers, it’s ready to turn ideas into finished novels. This guided journal blends structure with creativity.

Inside you’ll find:

· Step-by-step guidance through popular story models, including Romancing the Beat and genre-specific beats for RomComs and Romantasy novels.

· Character-building prompts that uncover lies that shape unforgettable protagonists.

· Weekly writing planner: 52 weeks of practical schedules to keep you accountable and consistent—so you can finally finish that book. It up on Kickstarter: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/vanessariley/

On Writing by Stephen King – A memoir-meets-manual about truth and discipline in storytelling.

Wonderworks: The 25 Most Powerful Inventions in the History of Literature by Angus Fletcher – A fascinating argument that literature is technology for the human brain.

And 3 very different fiction works:

The First Binding by R.R. Virdi is an epic fantasy where Ari, a storyteller with a mysterious past, recounts how he gained—and lost—everything, blending myth, magic, and legend into a sweeping tale of power and consequence.

Watercolored Pearls by Stacy Hawkins Adams is an inspiring story of three women whose intertwined journeys of faith, forgiveness, and self-worth reveal the beauty that can emerge from life’s deepest struggles.

The Monsters We Defy by Leslye Penelope is a spellbinding historical fantasy set in 1920s Washington, D.C., where a daring Black woman with the gift of seeing spirits must outwit both humans and the supernatural to win her freedom.

Take

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

The preorder campaign has begun, get the collector cards for Fire Sword and Sea—Help me build momentum for this historical fiction. Please ask your library to carry this novel and spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about lady pirates in the 1600s. This saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers that are in on the campaign. Get the collector cards while supplies last.

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—be a part of my crew. Your journey deserves community.

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