Revenge isn’t justice—it’s a dopamine hit with consequences.

We love the fantasy of the lick back: the receipts, the public shaming, the Waiting to Exhale moment.

But what happens after the fire dies out and you’re the one standing in the smoke? This essay asks an uncomfortable question: Is revenge power, or is it professional and spiritual suicide?

Revenge, Regret, and a Lick Back

I saw a viral clip from Oprah’s podcast about the science of revenge, and it mesmerized me. It’s a thought or a topic that I deal with when I write. Pro-tip: Real deep emotions that your characters embody resonate with readers.

But back to Oprah.

A woman in the podcast audience recounts a moment when she lost control. Consumed by suspicion, she triangulated her lover’s whereabouts using technology: combing through his laptop, pulling Uber receipts, matching dates to her calendar, and Googling addresses. The trail led straight to his ex-girlfriend. Proof in hand, she didn’t confront him quietly. She burned his clothes—Waiting to Exhale–style—posted flyers in the neighborhood with his photo stamped CHEATER, and I caught the vibe that maybe there was more she wouldn’t say on television.

The anger was palatable. Right, in the United States, anger is rampant. We have more acts of government-sanctioned brutality and murder. Officials are lying. Some folks seeme outraged. Others are looking away, hoping for a reasonable explanation of murder. While the ones once told to be silent are questioning whether all lives really do matter.

Back to Oprah again.

Oprah responded with compassion and hard-earned wisdom. She admitted she’d had a similar moment in her twenties—and learned that instead of tracking someone down, sometimes the bravest act is to stop, to cool down, to get help, and to reclaim yourself before you do something that costs you far more than it costs them.

Have you ever been there?So angry at how someone wronged you that you feel yourself tipping into something unrecognizable?

I’ve written that moment. In Fire Sword and Sea, Jacquotte experiences a rage so pure and sharp it feels righteous. The pirate crew she serves is a meritocracy: everyone is equal as long as they do their job. But one pirate, eaten alive by jealousy, sabotages battle instructions and leaves the entire crew in mortal danger. I won’t spoil what happens—but terrible things follow.

Jacquotte wants to kill him. Not metaphorically. She wants to drive her rapier through his heart, drag it up to his gullet and down into his gut. Based on what happens, her anger is justified. It’s righteous anger.

And yet—she does nothing.

She has to consider the crew. Her leadership. The sacrifices, she’s already made. The futures she fought for can be destroyed with one wrong move. In choosing restraint, something else breaks inside her. She almost loses her sanity.

Revenge might have felt freeing, but it wouldn’t have solved the problem or undone the harm caused by one ignorant, jealous fool.

James Kimmel Jr., author of The Science of Revenge, tells Oprah that revenge is a core emotion—an addictive one—that drives wars and conflicts. Or, as we say in the neighborhood: you can’t help but want to get your lick back.

But revenge is often also professional suicide.

Even when everything and a court of law is on your side, the world gets very small very fast. When word spreads about your clever act of vengeance, who will really trust you? You’re now the person who “crashed out.” Your stability and dependability are questioned. Team chemistry evaporates like smoke.

I’ve had friends who didn’t care. For ten glorious minutes—right up until security escorted them out—they had their revenge.

Before restraining orders are needed, I think we owe ourselves one hard question:Is it worth burning down your world just to set fire to theirs?

The best villains say yes. But is that you? No? So, I’m advocating to turn the other cheek. Forgive. But I don’t know about that forgetting part. We’re not angels. We’re definitely not Christ. Forgetting that someone harmed you can put you right back in danger. They already stole your trust and your time—things you can’t get back.

Yes, second-chance romances exist. But infidelity is a hard one to forgive, but so is belittling your dreams or gaslighting your pain. Refusing to admit wrongdoing while demanding your faith is wrong. When someone cannot acknowledge harm but insists they have your best interests at heart—that’s not a lesson to learn twice. That’s a situation to run from.

So what is the ultimate revenge?

Physical harm is wrong. Social harm is fleeting. The endorphin rush fades. The pain remains. And now you might also have a criminal record for trespassing. No thank you.

At this stage of my life, I don’t actually want revenge.I want regret.

I want a soul-stirring, chest-tightening, sleepless regret. I want them to know—deeply—that if they had only lived up to the values they preached, things could have been different. I want them to awake at night thinking about what could have been. I want my name to give them pause when it appears in lights.

I wish them regret.

I want people who believed themselves “the good guys”—the ones with liberal minds and Black friends—to reckon with how they’ve become tools of the state, how they uphold castes, patriarchy, and misogyny. I want them to rue how their misguided beliefs failed real people. I want them to remember every little lie, every weak excuse. I want them to sweat under the weight of their regrets.

That is a better revenge than anything my small, angry mind could invent.

No one torments the soul better than one’s own conscience.

So no—I don’t want revenge.

I wish my enemies regret.

What about you? Do you need to get that lick back, or could you be satisfied with your own stellar success?

As for me, in this house, that’s my choice. I’m pounding the pavement. I’m keeping my holy fire alive on the inside. I’m building a life so full—career, family, purpose—that those who discounted us, who cast us aside, who counted us out are stunned into silence. Maybe even repentance.

To get there, I don’t have to destroy anyone. I have to succeed.

I’m not wishing sickness or death or ruin on anybody. I’m wishing for my success to be so brilliant it can’t be ignored—and for the quiet, devastating realization that my hopes and dreams were the ones that got away.

This week’s book list is about revenge:

The Science of Revenge — James Kimmel Jr.A psychological and sociological examination of revenge as an addictive force that fuels conflict, cycles of violence, and self-destruction.

Beloved — Toni MorrisonExplores how unresolved trauma and righteous anger haunt both the wronged and the wrongdoer long after the act itself.

The Count of Monte Cristo — Alexandre DumasA masterclass in revenge as obsession, showing how total victory can still hollow out the soul.

Their Eyes Were Watching God — Zora Neale HurstonA story of choosing self-fulfillment over vengeance, and how living well becomes its own quiet reckoning.

Fire Sword and Sea — Vanessa RileyA meditation on righteous anger and restraint, where leadership demands sacrifice—and revenge costs more than blood. And it’s got pirates.

This week I’m highlighting Mahogany Books.

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Mahogany Books or from one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are hanging with me.

Come on, my readers, my beautiful listeners. Let’s keep everyone excited about Fire Sword and Sea.

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

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

Thank you for listening. I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

Special Event:

On February 5 at 7:00 PM, I’ll be appearing virtually with libraries across the country as part of the Library Speakers Consortium, discussing Fire Sword and Sea.

Check with your local library for access—and please join me. I’d love to see you there.

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

There comes a moment when the noise fades, the dust settles, and you look around and realize: this is a losing season. The signs are everywhere—opportunities dried up, allies silent or absent, and the very ground that once felt firm beneath your feet feels like it’s shifting. You blink and think, how did I get here?

Vanessa – Out of Coffee

I move through the world on a mission. It’s loud and clear in my heart: I’m here to tell stories that center encouragement and empowerment—especially for Black women. It’s personal. I am a Black woman. And being one raised at the crossroads of cultures—Caribbean roots, the Southern Baptist South, Irish threads in my lineage—I bring a perspective that’s richly textured. I’m a history and STEM girly, someone who gets giddy over tech and deeply moved by stories of women surviving and thriving from the 1300s to WWII. I love the research, the smells, the taste of a scene, the sound of a woman’s laughter echoing through centuries. And yet, in the middle of building, writing, pitching, and praying, I look up and realize I’m in a losing season.

The world right now is showing its cards. Political chaos runs rampant. Corporate agendas have eaten integrity for breakfast. The pressure to tell “acceptable history” rather than true history is real—and exhausting. The DEI moment has slipped into quotas and checkboxes, and alleged allies are revealing their true motivations. Let me be real: some folks were only in the room for the optics.

When someone shows you who they are, believe them.When a door closes, let it remain closed.If the house is on fire, get out and let it burn.

That’s not bitterness. That’s wisdom earned through fiery flames.

As a woman of faith, I know that even the losing seasons have purpose. There are times I ignored the signs and lost, getting smacked with fallout. And there are times I listened—and for a moment blessings flowed like a river. Then the river ran dry.

It’s not always going to be a winning season. Sometimes, you lose. Sometimes, life kicks you in the teeth. And when it does, you have to ask yourself: now what?

What Do You Do When You’re in a Losing Season?

You grieve. You breathe. You pray.

You let the rain come.

Ecclesiastes 3:4 reminds us: There’s a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.Nobody wants the weeping season. No one welcomes the mourning. But the rain is necessary—it releases what’s buried, nourishes what’s growing, and reminds us, we are alive.

Find Ways to Retain Joy – Vanessa with her 26th book taking Car Selfies.

Losing hurts. It hurts to see people you trusted only stand beside you when it’s trendy. It hurts to watch monuments scrub away Black contributions from the record, as if the Underground Railroad, War heroes erased from Arlington National Cemetery because of their sex or color or skin, and the countless other dark hands that built this country are inconveniences to a prettier story.

Let me be clear: this is all American history—Italian migrations, Haitians battling English troops for our freedom. All the Black, Brown, and White stories woven together belongs to all of us. Yet the only narratives being preserved are the ones that make people comfortable. The rest? We’re told to erase, edit, or hide them. And if you’re someone like me, someone who insists on telling the truth with love and power, you can find yourself cast out, put into a rough season where nothing sticks.

But even here—especially here—there’s still something to do. You regroup.

Hope and Regrouping

Losing doesn’t mean you stop. Losing is a pause. A reroute. A holy moment to reset.

Stop chasing folks who never believed in you.Stop shrinking your truth to make others feel taller.You remember your mission.

Yes, it’s a lonely road when only 6% of the room looks like you. Yes, like-minded folks are rare, and genuine support can feel even rarer. But they are out there. I know that because I have readers and listeners who hear me—who see me. That means the world.

And so, we regroup with intention.

We protect our joy.We sharpen our gifts.We build anyway.

We prepare for the next season by shedding the expectations that no longer serve us. We speak truth—the whole truth—because the stories we tell now will shape the world we’re leaving behind.

I don’t pretend to have it all figured out. I just know the losing season doesn’t get the final word. The bumps and the lows on my path are birthing clarity. Resilience is being shaped, and I fall back on my faith and it brings me out of darkness to the sunshine.

Vanessa Riley’s Write of Passage is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

And when the rain stops, and the mourning shifts, we will dance again.

Books to help you through your season are:

Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey

A radical, spiritual, and deeply empowering book about reclaiming rest as a tool of liberation.

Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations for Staying Human by Cole Arthur Riley

A spiritual balm. Riley weaves faith and justice into meditations that feel like breathing in a storm.

Healing the Soul of a Woman by Joyce Meyer

Meyer speaks candidly about trauma, emotional wounds, and how God works healing in the places we hide.

Island Queen by Vanessa Riley

A Caribbean woman’s rise to power in a world that tried to crush her. It’s history, empowerment, and a well researched novel.

The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

A multigenerational epic that explores identity, belonging, and the burden and beauty of legacy.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Baldwin and Company through Bookshop.org. You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

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 2025-04-08 13:10:00.

Betrayal leaves no visible wound, only a hardened place in the heart—scanned, protected, and difficult to penetrate. The question becomes, do we want to heal, or can we linger in hate and fire?

Betrayal is one of the most disorienting experiences a person can endure. It does not arrive all at once; it sweeps through you in stages, much like grief. First comes shock, then self-doubt. Was I naïve? Was I fooled? Were there signs I ignored because I wanted to believe? You replay conversations, gestures, moments of connection, wondering which parts were real and which were carefully constructed illusions. There is a particular cruelty in realizing you were allowed—invited—into a false sense of security.

What makes betrayal hurt the most is not just the deception, but the bond you believed you shared. Often, trust is built. Often values are mirrored: bonding on marginalization, feminism, activism, or other deeply held beliefs. You thought we saw the world the same way.

And with this bond, one can say, I’m not alone, not alone in the mission, not alone in the place and time. Basically, I’m not alone or lonely anymore.

Finding a like-minded person can feel like hope in an isolating world. And when that bond proves false, it shakes more than the relationship—it shakes your foundation, your sense of reality. You begin to question everything. What was authentic? What was performative? And inevitably, the most haunting question surfaces: If I can be misled, how do I trust again?

This question lives at the heart of Fire Sword and Sea. Jacquotte Delahaye wrestles with trust at every stage of her life. As a cook in a tavern, she must decide who entering the building is safe, and who is not.

When Jacquotte becomes a pirate, she’s surrounded by a crew whose survival depends on loyalty; that question becomes life-or-death. In love, it becomes even more perilous: who deserves her heart, and who should she flee from? We all recognize the trope of the “bad boy, bad girl”—and even then, there’s an understanding of risk.

Hoping to expand our happiness, and unfortunately, to our detriment, we try. Then we fail, and every reason that seemed right masked all those wrong reasons.

In Jacquotte’s story, betrayal cuts sharply when it comes from a friend, someone she would die for. The wound left behind is unforgettable. Her heart leans to be more guarded. As readers follow her journey, I wish for them to reflect on their own lives: and asking the tough questions:

Where are they most vulnerable?

Where does trust feel most fragile?

How do they respond when someone they love or admire proves to be painfully human—or worse, willfully harmful?

Recovery from betrayal is difficult, especially when it comes from someone you love. It hurts down deep when your admiration was for naught.

Yet living with a grudge is harder. Holding on to ill will and being unable to forgive is terrible. These conditions are like living behind armor so heavy it prevents connection altogether. No one wants to become the person who’s constantly looking over their shoulder, questioning every kindness, every soft word. And yet, as a member of a marginalized community, I can say that this struggle is familiar. Betrayal is not theoretical; it is lived.

President Reagan famously said, “Trust, but verify,” when referencing his mortal enemies. The word enemy implies intention, while mortal suggests an endgame. Jacquotte survives betrayal.

Mostly.

She carries with her a scar—a hardened scab over part of her heart.

The scab is protective. It’s tender. Difficult to penetrate.

One of the most personal and honest aspects of Jacquotte Delahaye’s character is how she navigates betrayal while balancing mercy, forgiveness, awareness, and pain. She is not idolized. She is real. A crew member betrays her profoundly, and yet she must decide how to move forward, because leadership demands clarity. If you are on her crew, she must be prepared to sacrifice everything for you.

I’m not suggesting anyone make unwise sacrifices for those who’ve harmed them. Some acts are unforgivable.

But we live in a moment that demands deeper conversations about accountability, justice, and grace. There’s a growing urge to harden our hearts—to refuse forgiveness entirely—especially when apologies arrive only after consequences. And yet, we must weigh these decisions carefully, as captains of our own ships.

I do not claim to have the right answers. The Jacquotte I wrote doesn’t. She is flawed. She walks a delicate balance between forgiveness and holy anger.

So I think about Jacquotte. As I went on a release week tour, she was on my heart. She lived an experience that left marks, taught her caution, and forced us to decide who she’d become in the aftermath.

In life, the question is not whether we will be wounded, but when to choose healing—and what parts of ourselves we are willing to risk again.

This week’s booklist:

A book on recovering from betrayal:

Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma by Peter A. Levine & Ann Frederick

This focuses on the body’s response to healing from psychological trauma and painful memories.

Books centering betrayal in fiction:

Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn

A psychological thriller about marriage gone terribly wrong.

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara

Explores betrayal among friends and how certain ruptures change lives forever.

Fire Sword and Sea by Vanessa Riley. This is a fast paced saga that illustrates betrayal and community.

These are fictional accounts. We need good fiction to help us escape disappointments to learn to master forgiveness and fire.

This week, I highlight Black Pearl Books. You guys are amazing. Thank you for the hospitality in Austin.

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Black Pearl Books or from

one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in hanging with me.

Come on, my readers, my beautiful listeners. Let’s keep everyone excited about Fire Sword and Sea.

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

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

Thank you for listening. I want you to 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

“Her skin was very brown, but, from its transparency, her complexion was uncommonly brilliant; her features were all good; her smile was sweet and attractive; and in her eyes, which were very dark, there was a life, a spirit, an eagerness which could hardly be seen without delight.” — That’s Jane Austen purply prose describing Marianne Dashwood in Sense and Sensibility. It’s a passage I repeat in A Wager at Midnight, where our Austen-loving hero sends these words to the woman he loves.

Vanessa on the set of Hallmark’s Sense and Sensibility in a period reconstructed gown.

This sentimental adoration of skin is an example of how, even in the olden days—the 1800s—it’s used to interpret Marianne’s style and good character, and another reason she’s considered qualified to be a good wife.

Where have we gone so wrong that the mere mention of skin makes everyone nervous? Why, when used in literature skin was once a symbol of beauty, in the present it seems linked to division? Why does its celebration feel shameful or wrong? Even those who claim to see no color are blind to the beauty that skin creates.

Did you know that your skin—the dermis—is the largest organ in your body? According to the National Institutes of Health, the average adult’s skin spans 16-22 square feet. That’s a quarter of an average bedroom. For me, that’s half the room on my floor filled with reference books—the ones I’m pouring through as I write. Skin serves as a shield. From freckles, scars, and pigmentation to wrinkles—it’s a storyteller, an archive of our rich history.

More Than Skin Deep

Skin is important. It’s one of the first things anyone notices when you walk into a room. It’s the reason people smile when it’s glowing and radiant. It’s also the reason I was followed around a store when I was young, Black, and in a place where those in power assumed the worst. I wasn’t given the benefit of my character. I was condemned in a glance.

And when people of like minds and shared ancestry congregate and uplift one another, some of those same forces rear their heads again. Now, they are uncomfortable. It makes me wonder—what is it they fear? It’s not 1865. It’s not 1617. Our skin is here to stay, adorned as we please, and present in all public spaces.

Yet, I’m not just talking about external forces. I’m talking about the harm we inflict upon ourselves—the moments we buy into the false narrative that our skin makes us not enough.

Skin as a Reflection of Trauma

Skin records our personal experiences and the imprints of ancestral resilience. It is more than just a covering; it is deeply connected to our emotions and environment. Studies show that trauma leaves a physical signature, not only in our nervous system but in our skin. Ever noticed your skin flaring up after extreme stress—whether it manifests as dryness, scarring, acne, or rosacea? You’ve experienced this connection firsthand.

According to the National Rosacea Society, emotional stress is one of the most common triggers for rosacea. Research in dermatology and psychiatry links post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) to various skin conditions, including psoriasis, eczema, and stress-induced inflammation. Scientists have found that those who experience chronic psychological stress have elevated inflammation levels, which can make skin conditions persistent and resistant to treatment.

A Poster for Healthy Skin – Source: Canva and Vanessa Riley

Our bodies hold trauma in tangible ways. People with alexithymia, a condition where emotions are difficult to identify or express, often experience physiological symptoms, including hyperactivated nerves, increased heart rate, and reduced oxygen flow to tissues. The skin itself becomes more electrically sensitive, reacting intensely to stress. These biological responses serve as reminders that our reactions to the world around us don’t simply disappear.

Trauma and the Legacy of Our Ancestors

Recent genetic research reveals that trauma is not just a singular present experience but one that echoes across generations. The concept of intergenerational trauma suggests that stressful events—war, famine, oppression, and internment—can shape gene expression and affect descendants. Studies of Holocaust survivors and Dutch famine victims show that their children exhibited altered stress responses and health patterns.

Throwing on my science minded writer’s hat for a moment, I must make it clear, trauma doesn’t change our DNA sequence, but it does influence which genes are activated or deactivated—like an editor making notes in the margins of a manuscript. These epigenetic markers can be passed down, creating a biological legacy of resilience or vulnerability. However, just as these changes can be inherited, they can also be rewritten, properly edited out of existence. Healing, self-care, and community can reprogram these genetic expressions, offering paths of restoration.

The Power of Ancestral Survival

Every cell in your body is a testament to survival. Your ancestors endured hardships—some enslavement or forced migration, all subject to colonization. This legacy affects both the oppressed and the oppressor. Both absorb the hate and lies, whether through feelings of false superiority or the fallacy of expecting to be exploited.

Back to Our Skin

Research from Yale and the Mayo Clinic reveals that every human carries an ancestral roadmap at the cellular level. This means that the struggles and triumphs of those who came before us are not just stories—we carry them in our blood, our bones, and our skin.

In the year of our Lord 2025, it’s time to step back and see that we are wonderfully made. Even if our history or ancestry has endured the worst, and even if our ancestors have perpetrated the worst. Knowing true history isn’t about guilt; it’s about recognition—returning honor to those who were hung from the arc of injustice.

Legendary civil rights organizer Ella Baker often asked, “Who are your people?” It wasn’t just a rhetorical question; it was an invitation to recognize the power of lineage. It wasn’t a call for atonement but a call to do better by those upholding supremacy and to do right by our neighbors, all of our neighbors–the ones who don’t worship, love, socialize or believe like you. And especially those who don’t look like you, possessing your skin—the one thing on the list that’s impossible to change.

More Than Skin Deep: The Significance of Firsts

We live in a world where women, Black people, and people of color are still achieving “firsts”—the first to graduate from certain institutions, the first to hold specific leadership positions. I was one of the first, if not the first, Black woman to graduate from Stanford University with a Ph.D. in mechanical engineering. In 2001, only four Black women graduated with a doctorate in physics. I have the honor of knowing one of them.

Yet, despite how hard we work—how much harder we labored to gain our placements—someone will look at our brown skin and assume: affirmative action, lax standards, different (easier) tests. And, of course, we are counted as ‘Didn’t Earn It’ hires. Some believe DEI initiatives are keeping them from breaking into traditional publishing—without considering the possibility that their writing simply isn’t good enough. They don’t realize that calls for historically disenfranchised groups don’t mean the majority is ignored. When people realize that there are enough seats at the table, maybe they won’t be so insecure. Maybe then, they can relax.

For Becky or Karen, I can tell you two things can be true at the same time. When I started out, I remember being told by an agent—one with, let’s just say, racist tendencies—that I wasn’t good enough, and my only hope of publishing was as a co-author. She was wrong. But that manuscript she reviewed? While it had a unique style filled purply prose and uncontrolled flourishes, it was trash. A wise person learns, adapts, and tries not to make the same mistakes. That too is baked into my skin.

Don’t Hide Your Beauty

Maya Angelou once said, “The variety of our skin tones can confuse, bemuse, delight, brown and pink and beige and purple, tan and blue and white. I’ve sailed upon the seven seas and stopped in every land. I’ve seen the wonders of the world, not yet one common man.”

Our skin tells the story of survival, of fire refining gold, of bronzed DNA etched with both power and pain.

Ignore the noise. Your achievements are not anomalies; they are milestones on a journey paved by generations of sacrifice and resilience.

Psalm 139:14 reminds us, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” We are the work of His hand. Our skin—our very being—is a living archive of triumph. We are made not merely to survive, but to thrive in our circumstances, our skin. The legacy endowed in us qualifies us to dream and build and rest—with passion, compassion, and undeniable style.

If you wish to dive deeper into the wonders of skin and pride and human nature, I recommend the following:

I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing Brown – A personal and insightful memoir on navigating race and faith.

All About Love: New Visions by bell hooks – A discussion on love, self-worth, and community in the face of societal pressures.

Skin: A Natural History by Nina G. Jablonski – A fascinating look at the evolution and cultural significance of human skin.

My Grandmother’s Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem – A deep dive into how trauma is held in the body, particularly in the context of racial identity.

And If you want to learn more about the powerhouse behind the scene activist Ella Baker, try Ella Baker and the Black Freedom Movement by Barbara Ransby about Baker’s pivotal role in the civil rights movement and her enduring legacy of grassroots leadership.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting M. Judson Booksellers through Bookshop.org. You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

Vanessa Riley’s Write of Passage is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.

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 2025-04-01 13:10:00.

By the time you hear this, my twenty-ninth book will no longer be hidden, filtered, or quietly passed around behind publishing gates.

It took two and a half years, a global history we were never taught, censorship, delays, stolen copies—yes, pirates—to bring this book into the world.

Fire Sword and Sea is about women who refused to disappear, in a time when choosing your own life could get you exiled—or killed.

And now, their story is yours.

By the time you hear this, my twenty-ninth book will be live—released into the world, no longer hidden behind NetGalley or Edelweis or advanced reader copy structures.

It took two and a half years of research, writing, revising, questioning myself, starting over, and fine-tuning every voice until each character could stand on their own feet and speak without apology. Fire Sword and Sea is now available everywhere books are sold—and, I hope, in your libraries. And if it’s not there yet, ask for it. Librarians listen.

This book represents not just years of labor, but the weight of them—the questions I’ve been circling, the history I’ve been chasing, the fire I’ve been quietly tending while drumming up attention and conversations, wondering how the world would react when they finally got to see the finished product.

And now, you can too.

In Fire Sword and Sea, you’ll meet Jacquotte Delahaye—a Black woman of mixed heritage, French and African, who refuses to bend to authority that demands obedience. She wants freedom: the freedom to earn money and spend it as she chooses, the freedom to love whom she wants, not the man her father selects, or the love society deems “appropriate.” Jacquotte resists not because she is reckless, but because she understands that such rigid constructs for women have always been a cage.

You’ll meet Bahati, a Black pirate of African descent, who resists every force that tries to dictate how she should labor, whom she should serve, and what she should endure. She chooses piracy not for glory, but for survival—for legacy. She wants a world where her nieces will never know poverty, never know enslavement, never have their lives narrowed by someone else’s greed.

You’ll come to know Lizzôa, a spy in Petit-Goâve. If you have ever dreamed against the odds—if you’ve ever needed a guide who knows how to move quietly, how to gather information, how to turn whispers into strategy—Lizzôa is the person who will help you build what you were thought was impossible, what you were even told could never happen. Lizzôa doesn’t follow the orders of men or kings. No Lizzôa bends and reshapes everything with fire. Dreaming is living fire.

And you’ll meet Sarah Sayon, a woman willing to do anything to escape a brutal relationship. Her resistance is not gentle. She uses fire to destroy evil and to cleanse the world that tried to break her.

There are so many more on the crew in Fire Sword and Sea. You will find yourself and your role.

This novel takes you back to a time to the 1600s, when women were given only two roles: wife or wench. Or as a friend said, a heaux or a housewife. This is the original respectability politics, where you fit in or were exiled or killed. Choice was a luxury that women were not meant to have.

You may be thinking how can this be? My history books… Le Sigh. This was a time when the world had two true global powers—and they are not who you’ve been taught to expect. The gold belonged to Spain and to the Muslim Mughal Empire. That is why piracy was legal. Every European nation wanted what those empires possessed, and piracy became a sanctioned tool—a way to steal wealth while keeping hands clean and the crimes off your shores.

Fire Sword and Sea is a muscular read.It’s a diverse read.It’s a powerful read.

These stories and histories have been buried for far too long. With all that’s going one, reading about women who resisted, women who chose, women who refused to disappear quietly, is the book we need.

And I’m taking this book on the road.

I’ll be heading to Washington, D.C., Petersburg, Virginia, Severna Park, Maryland, St. Louis, Missouri, Austin, Texas, and several stops in Georgia, at Woodstock and Perimeter.

Come out and join the tour. I would love to see you. I would love to talk with you about this book.

We just kicked things off at the Gwinnett Library—and you readers and podcast listeners, you showed up. Registration sold out. The energy in that room was electric. My moderator, Jasmine Sinkfield, was amazing.

And when you work this hard on a book—when you’ve shared many of the battles publicly, as I have—these moments matter.

Fire Sword and Sea’s journey hasn’t been easy.

There was censorship.Delays in shipping.Publishing slowdowns.Pirates stealing ARCs—yes, really. That happened.And a million other battles that drove me to my knees, again and again, in prayer.

But we are here.

I’m so excited for you to meet these women. To sit with their choices. To imagine what it meant, centuries ago, for women to resist when survival demanded it—when a better life required courage instead of permission.

These women are phenomenal.And they chose their paths.

Readers, podcast audience. The ability to choose shouldn’t belong only to pirates.

May Fire Sword and Sea lead the way.

This is release week for Fire Sword and Sea. She’s here, as of January 13th, 2026. Available where all books are sold. Get a copy and learn about Caribbean women pirates—That’s Black pirates, integrated crews, and tons of secrets. Read their truth. Get folks talking about this book.

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in this with me.

Come on, my readers, my beautiful listeners. Let’s get everyone excited to read Fire Sword and Sea. And I hope that you will join me on the tour. I’d love to meet you.

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

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

Thank you for listening. I want you to 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

My mother was the first female entrepreneur I ever met. She started selling baked goods during tax season while my father prepared income taxes for clients in our home. I distinctly remember her brownies—one of my favorite treats—being sold right on our porch to delighted customers. But my mother wasn’t just an entrepreneur; she was a serial entrepreneur. She took that experience and built a bookstore—Goldenrod Christian Bookstore—in the booming metropolis of Aiken, South Carolina. And for those familiar with Aiken, you’ll catch the joke in that description.

Midnight Release Party of A Wager at Midnight at The Book Worm Bookstore

A love of books has always been deeply ingrained in my family, which made it all the more distressing when larger businesses noticed the niche my mother had carved out. Since there wasn’t another Christian bookstore for miles, these businesses began selling Bibles and offering similar services, cutting into her business. I suppose at any stage of success, there will always be competition, challenges, and obstacles that try to stop you. You just never know what each day will bring.

One of my fondest memories of Goldenrod was an item my mother kept by the register—a small, round coin. Some were blue, others red, and each had the words “To It” stamped on the top. It didn’t make sense to me at first. When I asked her about it, she gave me that knowing smile and said, “This is for everyone who delays their dreams, thinking they’ll get around to it.” Then she placed the coin in my hand and said, “See? Now you have a round to it. So go after what you want.”

The idea of “a round to it” is a powerful concept. It represents the ultimate form of procrastination—the assumption that we will always have another moment, another chance. But nothing in life is promised. We shouldn’t make plans assuming X, Y, or Z will happen down the line, nor should we sit still waiting for the perfect moment.

By the time you hear this podcast, I will have released my 26th book into the world, A Wager at Midnight. I will also, in all likelihood, be very tired because we celebrated with a midnight release party. (Side note: I probably should’ve named it A Wager at 10 PM—then I could have gotten a full night’s sleep! But I digress.)

The event was an incredible opportunity to celebrate this book, an indie bookstore that I love, and the readers who believe in my voice and mission—supporting women, female entrepreneurs, and female authors. Because despite what anyone may tell you, being an author is a business. Our product is our words, codified in a book. We have to market, advertise, reach new customers, and most importantly, appreciate every reader—whether they pick up a book from a library, buy it from a bookstore, or listen to it through headphones. Every reader is a valued customer.

At the midnight party, we celebrated in style. The menu featured chimichurri sauce with a range of crudité vegetables, Megan Sussex’s lemon honey olive oil cake with cream cheese frosting, baked donuts with chocolate ganache and floral sprinkles, holiday meatballs, and an array of cheeses—including a particularly tipsy drunk goat cheese. There was plenty of food, and even greater joy in watching people savor what had been created with love and care. Perhaps I’m a serial pleaser because I want people to enjoy my words, but if I throw a party, I want them to enjoy the food, too.

So consider this message your round to it. Wear that outfit you’ve been saving for a special day. Take the trip you’ve been thinking about. Start the business that’s been living in your head, even if the present situation feels uncertain. Celebrate everything—whether it’s a major victory or simply the fact that you’re still in the game.

More about A Wager at Midnight

And as we celebrate book number 26, A Wager at Midnight—Stephen and Scarlett’s story—we honor a narrative that intertwines a fight against the blood disease sickle cell anemia with a love story between a Duke and a Viscountess, who place a wager that will be settled at the end of A Wager at Midnight. At its heart, this book is about two people devoted to medicine and helping others, yet unsure if they can have both love and their dreams. But luckily, Stephen and Scarlett get a round to it.

Books that can help bolster the celebration now mindset:

Don’t Settle for Safe by Sarah Jakes Roberts – Encourages stepping out of fear and into purpose.

The Light We Carry by Michelle Obama – Encourages resilience, taking action, and finding joy even in difficult times.

The 5 Second Rule by Mel Robbins – Teaches a simple technique to stop procrastination and take immediate action.

So celebrate today. Party today. Because nothing is promised, and you deserve your flowers—or your holiday meatballs—even if it isn’t an official holiday. You deserve a celebration.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting “The Book Worm Bookstore” through Bookshop.org. You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

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 2025-03-25 13:10:00.

Someone said, “Reading is elitism,” and I knew immediately—we’re in trouble.

When people start calling books the problem, it’s never about books.It’s about control.

A mind that doesn’t read is easier to steer.Easier to distract.Easier to convince that vibes are enough and history is optional.

But reading—especially our reading—was once illegal.Punishable by death.

So no—reading isn’t elitism.It’s survival.

I saw a screed on Threads that made me stop and stare.“Reading is elitism,” the post declared.

It left me scratching my head.

Why now?Why is this sentiment surfacing at a moment when people are desperate to escape the hellscape we’re living in—when they’re trying to learn, to grow, to imagine ways to resist?

Is it something more sinister?

Because an algorithm shaped by bots and billionaires has no interest in a smart, savvy, or hopeful electorate. It wants control. A mind that doesn’t read—one that lives on vibes alone—is easy to steer. It will thrive on chaos. It shall be misled, distracted, and ultimately enslaved.

That post made me angry. The kind of angry that pulls my inner poet out of hiding.

Yes, Vanessa Riley has been known to write poetry. If you’ve read Island Queen, Sister Mother Warrior, The Bewildered Bride, and others, you’ve already seen my poetic bent threaded through the prose.

And don’t you have a new book out? Fire Sword and Sea, next week, Jan. 13? Ain’t nobody have time for all this.

No. Nobody does, but I made time. For I got big mad.I reached for the pen—or rather, the keyboard.

What came out was a poem I now call Between the Book and Me.

Between the Book and Me

Reading is a privilege, a refuge, a right sorely won.

So miss me with the BS, the apathy.Because I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (Maya Angelou).

Maybe it’s my generation.For we came from a time when we were raised as Beloved (Toni Morrison),and hoped for Something Like Love (Beverly Jenkins),Only to learn we were an Invisible Man (Ralph Ellison),Never a Native Son (Richard Wright).

We sought out books to find The Souls of Black Folk (W.E.B. Du Bois),but kept our gaze fixed on librarians and mentors,for Their Eyes Were Watching God (Zora Neale Hurston).

And they knew what books to pick for our good.They understood which passage would give us hope.

When we learned that life—she—was No Crystal Stair (Eva Rutland),

They gave us books that fed a Hunger (Roxane Gay),

Because they knew we would ache when Things Fall Apart (Chinua Achebe).

They understood that verses on a page, in a hymnal, on a screen,would become Kindred (Octavia E. Butler)—Something to remember, to retain, to hug.

That touch, that warm embrace, when nouns and verbs paint pictures,Keeps the flames of imagination burning.It will stoke The Fire Next Time (James Baldwin).

Reading makes a difference.When peaceful with a psalm or enraged and ready to fight Fire Sword and Sea (Vanessa Riley),Try opening a book—keep going—Fill your soul with words and dreams.Get so full you must Go Tell It on the Mountain (James Baldwin).

So it makes me sad when some insistOur whole story lives only in the Narrative of the Life… an American Slave (Frederick Douglass),or the Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl (Harriet Jacobs).

No. Black Boy (Richard Wright).No—Black girl.No bright child misled into craving The Bluest Eye (Toni Morrison).

Rise up from The Street (Ann Petry).Savor words as if they are rare,Growing sweeter when harvested in the mind like A Raisin in the Sun (Lorraine Hansberry).

If you read, you will learn this:That you are more than Sister Outsider (Audre Lorde).You are The Black Jacobins (C.L.R. James).You are an Island Queen (Vanessa Riley),Swaying to a Harlem Rhapsody (Victoria Christopher Murray).

You see, Between the World and Me (Ta-Nehisi Coates)—Between a book and you—AreA mother’s prayer,A grandmother’s wisdom,An ancestor’s war song.

So don’t turn your back on reading.Don’t dismiss the act our forefathers and foremothers chose, even under the penalty of death.

Reading isn’t elitism.It’s essential to survival.It’s defiance, spelled out.It’s the way to live.

This week’s book list is in my poem. Go to the show notes. Get the full list. I’m supporting Novel Neighbor through their website and Bookshop.org.

We are less than a week away from the release of Fire Sword and Sea. She comes out on January 13th, 2026. Caribbean women pirates—That’s Black pirates, integrated crews, and secrets—of those who sailed the seas for adventure, a better life, or because they darn well felt like it. Read their truth. Get folks talking about this book.

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Novel Neighbor or one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small who are with me.

Come on, my readers, my beautiful listeners. Let’s get everyone excited to read Fire Sword and Sea.

Show notes include the poem mentioned in this broadcast.

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

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

Thank you for listening. I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

January 10 – Gwinette Library with Jasmine Sinkfield (Click the image for Registration Links)

Jan. 12 – Resist Booksellers in Petersburg, VA

Jan. 13 – Release Day – Loyalty Books in DC with Victoria Christopher Murray

Jan. 14 – Park Books in Severna Park, MD with Kate Quinn

Jan. 15 – FoxTale Books in Woodstock, GA with Simone Umba

Jan. 16 – Novel Neighbor in St. Louis, MO with Pat Simmons

Jan. 17 – Black Pearl Books in Austin, TX with Ali Hazelwood

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

Sometimes, there are words and events designed to provoke, to get under your skin, to upset the balance of your peace. Over time, I have learned that I can’t react to everything. There’s just too much noise. But some things are too important to ignore.

Right now, libraries are under threat. Institutions we’ve funded to preserve history, like Arlington National Cemetery, are erasing lesson plans that once provided a comprehensive view of our past. If you’re searching for biographies of heroic Americans who happen to be Black, who happen to be a woman or Spanish or Latin, they are no longer easily accessible. The only thing they haven’t done is dig up the graves. And honestly, I wouldn’t put it past them. Nothing seems too indecent or radical anymore. If you’re willing to close libraries or hinder children’s ability to learn about the sacrifices made to build this country, there’s no travesty or crime you won’t justify.

Keep reading Vanessa Riley’s Write of Passage! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Meanwhile, natural disasters rage across the country. Fires burn on both coasts, tornadoes tear through communities, and people are in pain. Leadership feels absent, leaving many confused and struggling to make sense of it all. And if you’re an author in the midst of this chaos, you’re still expected to go out there and promote your book.

Writers and artists often struggle with feeling that their work is inconsequential, that it can wait. But if the pandemic taught us anything, it’s that time is a gift, and there are no guarantees that we’ll see the next moment. The work we do now matters.

If you follow me on social media, you know I strive to keep my posts positive. I share stories that uplift fellow authors and women’s initiatives. I find joy in the simple things, like Megan Sussex gathering us all in a virtual group chat to bake cakes in beautiful pots or arrange flowers on our tables. I’ve seen people take that extra moment to make meals special, to nourish themselves, to create beauty in the everyday. And let me be clear—this kind of joy is a form of resistance. We should never stop embracing it.

But let’s get back to booking. Why is it that artists are expected to hold back from promoting their work in times of crisis? If a professional chef were asked to stop baking because wildfires were raging, we’d find it absurd. If a police officer were told to abandon their duty because of book bans, we’d question the logic. Yet authors are often made to feel guilty for marketing their work when the world is in turmoil.

I wish my job were just writing. But it’s not. Writing is only one piece. There’s also editing, revising, and—perhaps the most exhausting part—letting people know that my book exists. I wish I had an assistant to do it all. I wish we lived in the old days when publishers handled marketing, but that world no longer exists. Today, agents and editors look at an author’s social media presence as part of the package. That doesn’t mean you can’t get a contract without it, but having a strong online presence certainly helps. And maintaining that presence requires effort.

I gravitate toward the social media spaces that bring me joy. I’m active in many places because I have to be, not necessarily because I want to be. I use Facebook for recipe discussions, Instagram for visuals, and I pop into other platforms when necessary. Ideally, marketing wouldn’t be my primary strategy, but here we are.

For those struggling with promotion in the midst of chaos, know this: talking about your book is part of your job. Empathy and support for others are important, but so is your book. If you are traditionally published, sales determine future contracts. And sales won’t happen if people don’t know your book exists. Publishers won’t consider external factors when evaluating your performance. It’s on you to ensure your book gets noticed.

Even when the world is on fire, you have created something meaningful. You’ve brought characters to life, and they deserve to exist in the imaginations of readers. But that won’t happen if you don’t speak up. Your book, the product of months or even years of labor, deserves to be shared with the world.

I’ve said it before on this podcast: We write, we win. Your words matter. They might feel small in the grand scheme of things, but they provide escape and joy to readers. Someone out there needs the story you’ve crafted. But they won’t find it if you don’t tell them about it.

So, take a deep breath, lift your head, and shout from the rooftops: I have a book coming out! And speaking of books, I’m Vanessa Riley, and my next novel, A Wager at Midnight, the second book in the Betting Against the Duke series, is on its way. In this book, you’ll meet Scarlet, a bold young woman who dreams of studying medicine at a time when it is forbidden for women. She can’t even attend a lecture unless she disguises herself as a man. But Scarlet is determined, and she may just find an unexpected ally in a brilliant, slightly uptight physician from Trinidad who happens to love Jane Austen and cassava pone.

See what I did there? I told you about my book, even though the world is in chaos. I poured my heart into writing this story. I’ve included detailed historical notes for those who want to learn more. I hope A Wager at Midnight encourages readers to think deeper about sickle cell anemia, the importance of medical care, and, of course, the magic of falling in love—even when the world feels like it’s unraveling.

Authors and all artists, hear me. Let your art see daylight. Scream from the mountaintops. Walk on water shouting, Look what my hands have wrought with the talent given to me for a time such as this. Never be the servant who buried his talent in the ground because he was afraid of loss, of looking foolish, or of incurring some greater wrath. You are here. Now is the time. You’ve completed a project. Stand tall in your accomplishments and let the world know. Don’t bury your talent in the ground. Don’t waste a moment waiting for a better time. There is nothing better than now, for you don’t know who desperately needs to hear or see what you’ve done—to help them with their healing journey, to take the next step in their creative walk. Your words could be the fuel to propel them forward. What you do in creating changes the world to tilt a little more toward good.

And if you’re feeling stuck or unsure how to promote your own book, here’s a list of books that can help you step up your marketing game:

Book Marketing is Dead: Book Promotion Secrets You Must Know BEFORE You Publish by Derek Murphy – This book challenges traditional book marketing strategies and offers modern, data-driven approaches to help authors effectively reach their audience.

Platform: Get Noticed in a Noisy World by Michael Hyatt – A guide to building a strong personal brand and online presence, showing authors how to stand out and attract readers in an oversaturated market.

For those wrestling with self-doubt, check out:

Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America by Melissa V. Harris-Perry – This book dives into how external forces like stereotypes and societal pressures impact a woman’s self-perception.

Black Boy by Richard Wright – A powerful memoir that can inspire writers to confront the harsh realities of life, self-doubt, and the struggle for personal truth and purpose. Wright’s story will resonate with anyone feeling like their work or life doesn’t matter.

The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer’s Block, and the Creative Brain by Alice W. Flaherty – A deep dive into the neuroscience behind creativity, writer’s block, and the emotional struggles writers face.

And what you’ve been blessed to do as a writer or artist is to create. So, A Wager at Midnight – full of laughs, it’s a celebration of community told in a historical setting. Buy my book, she says proudly. As an artist, your book deserves to be seen, and your work deserves to be celebrated, even if the world’s burning.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting BookPeople through Bookshop.org. You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com under the podcast link in the About tab.

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

Show Notes:

Flaherty, A. W. (2004). The Midnight Disease: The Drive to Write, Writer’s Block, and the Creative Brain. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Harris-Perry, M. V. (2011). Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in America. Yale University Press.

Hyatt, M. (2019). Platform: Get Noticed in a Noisy World. Thomas Nelson.

Murphy, D. (2014). Book Marketing is Dead: Book Promotion Secrets You Must Know BEFORE You Publish. Kindle Direct Publishing.

Riley, V. (2025). A Wager at Midnight. Kensington.

Wright, R. (2004). Black Boy. Harper Perennial Modern Classics.

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 2025-03-18 13:10:00.

The title of this essay changed from ‘What the Hell’ to ‘Was I Really a DEI Hire?’—and then reality set in. 2025 was a year of whiplash: pride, disbelief, resistance. But I’m still here, with a new book coming in January, while finishing my thirty-first one. I’m a storyteller. And in 2026, I’m coming in hot. I choose ASCENT.

From Hellscape to Angel Wings – 2026, Come Get Me.

The title of this podcast essay changed several times before it settled into place. It moved from I’m So Glad We’re Almost Out of 2025 to What the Hell to Was I Really a DEI Hire? I want to talk to the manager—and then, reality and sense came to me.

That confusion, the whiplash between pride, dishonor, and disbelief, pretty much sums up my experiences in 2025.

Don’t get me wrong—there were extraordinary moments. This podcast and speaking to you weekly is something I enjoy. Speaking in front of a packed ballroom of over 800 people at the Jane Austen Society Conference was breathtaking. Traveling to NY for a girls’ trip and to share the stage with Eloisa James was amazing. Some of these moments I never imagined would happen. When I first began writing Regency-era stories, I encountered resistance from people who insisted diversity in that time period was “fantasy.” As if Black people magically appeared in 1865, to be liberated from talent-sourcing camps by a war between the states. And in 2025, we still love our euphemisms. We’re supposed to forget all the atrocities with no second thoughts about lineage and history.

For the record, there are entire civilizations—from African kingdoms to complex global networks—that existed. Beauty and scholarship and faith existed before the transatlantic slave trade and colonization.

But we’re encouraged not to think about any of that.

When I first said I wanted to write about Black women pirates, I’m pretty sure they thought it would be like the movie Girls’ Trip, just set on the high seas.

I don’t think the collective thinking—the industry, the world, the gatekeepers—was prepared for the history I uncovered. I found depth. I chose danger. I decided to make visible a period in the 1600s where women took a stand and chose violence. They fought for what they wanted.

And I see the conversations beginning. Folks are judging the women through modern lenses. Unfortunately, women are still critiqued the same way. They are made into third-class citizens for not choosing to have children, for not choosing to be a mammy, for choosing careers, ambition, and self-determination over settling. These are conversations we still need to have.

And we will have them—with fire, with sword, and seas of truth.

My upcoming novel is a naked exploration of feminine power. It’s leadership forged in chaos. It’s truth standing upright in a collapsing world.

Back to Publishing:

The landscape for 2025 has been equally surreal. Peers have had books that weren’t available on launch day. Others couldn’t get their advance copies because they were held up by tariffs in Canada. I’ve had porch pirates steal mine. Tracking shipments has become a chase that maybe my Lady Worthing might be able to solve. Who knew that a billion-dollar corporation couldn’t get a handle on UPS? Perhaps this is only affecting a few. Perhaps, it’s only an issue for certain publishers. Perhaps, only certain authors are in limbo. Oh, the DEI of it all.

And yet.

Here I am, a day or two before the New Year, finishing a WIP, my thirty-first book. Thirty-one. This one will be published in 2027—the fourth Lady Worthing mystery, Murder in St. James’s Park. I don’t think I killed enough people. Severn House will have to tell me. So no matter how chaotic or frustrating the system can be, there’s nothing I would rather do than sit down and write stories.

I’m a storyteller.

I come from a Southern mother who loved literature and a Caribbean father from who loved—loved—loved—telling stories. Storytelling is not just what I do. It’s what I am.

So as I step into 2026, my word—my declaration—is ASCENT.

Ascent means growth upward. Earned success. Elevation in status and income. It carries momentum. Inevitability. It is not loud, but it’s unstoppable.

My ascent into 2026 will be the manifestation of faithfulness. When you are faithful to your craft, faithful to your words, the seeds you planted return as harvest. The earth becomes gentle because you have cared for it. So no matter how crazy—and I mean crazy—this world becomes, no matter how many disappointments or kicks in the teeth you endure, do not give up.

Because if you give up, they win.If you give up, every lie they told gets declared as truth.

They don’t care that you’re tired.They never cared that you’re human.They do not care if you’re sane.

They will rejoice when you are defeated. That side partied too much in 2025.

And I’m sorry. I have my dancing boots on right now. I’m too stubborn to give up. I’ve come too far from where I started from. And I have too many stories to tell.

So my question to you, in this moment of crazy:Are you a leader?Are you a Moses?A Harriet Tubman?Or are you the woman who wrote Kindred? An Octavia Butler, gifted with foresight, who’ll break stereotypes and venture into the unknown.

I suspect some of you are. I know that your ascent is not accidental; it’s strategic. You’ve swung for the fences, and it’s your time.

So in 2026, choose ASCENT and leap into this new year with expectations. Let no one—and I mean no one—stop your rise.

This week’s book list is a mixed bag of identity, womanhood, and manifest:

Kindred by Octavia E. Butler – This is a foundational work on power, survival, and historical memory. It’s a classic. Let it be your entry to her storytelling.

Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde – This collection of essays examines womanhood as a site of power, insisting that Black women’s differences, their anger, and lived experience are sources of knowledge, survival, and transformation.

Lara by Bernardine Evaristo – This novel traces lineage, migration, and identity across centuries, reflecting inheritance and storytelling.

This week, I’m highlighting Mahogany Booksellers through their website and Bookshop.org.

We are fifteen+ days away from the release of Fire Sword and Sea. She comes out on January 13th, 2026. Caribbean women pirates—That’s Black women pirates who sail the seas for adventure, a better life, or because they darn well felt like it. Imagine what their truth is. Help me get folks talking about this book.

Consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea from Mahogany Booksellers or one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small who are in this fight with me.

Come on my readers, my beautiful listeners. Let’s get everyone excited for Fire Sword and Sea and 2026.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast.

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

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

Thank you for listening. Hopefully, you’ll come again. This is Vanessa Riley.

This is a public episode. If you’d like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit vanessariley.substack.com/subscribe

When I was in school, I once had a saying, “Sleep you can get any old time, but grades last forever.” At the time, I meant it. It wasn’t the best mindset, but it fueled my drive to maintain a near-perfect grades. As an overachiever, I found comfort in metrics—things that could be measured, quantified, and tracked. That’s how I knew I was doing well. They were the invisible pats to the shoulders. You did good. With working divorces parents who just always couldn’t be there, numbers were a great substitute. Numbers gave me a sense of security, a tangible way to validate my efforts, to validate me.

Vanessa literally on a treadmill.

Unfortunately, I’m not alone. I believe the validation race is everyone’s personal kryptonite and the obsession starts young. My last year in elementary school, I won everything—the Citizenship Award, honors in science and math, and a spot on the honor roll. It was an amazing experience to be recognized by my teachers and the principal. But I remember vividly that same day, being called to a third-grade classroom to encourage my younger brother. He was upset because he hadn’t won anything. I had to gently explain to him that awards like these were given in sixth grade because students were preparing to transition to middle school. It wasn’t his time.

Still, it was difficult to celebrate my accomplishments while knowing he was in pain. Even though he wasn’t eligible for the awards, he still felt the sting of being left out. That’s what the constant chase for validation does to us—we seek it even when we don’t need it, even when it’s not our time to be evaluated or recognized. We keep chasing the numbers, keep running on the validation treadmill.

But the problem with numbers is that when you focus on them too much, you can lose sight of the journey. This isn’t just an issue for young people and students—it follows us into adulthood, into our careers, and for those of us who write, into the publishing world. As an author, numbers are everywhere. It starts with the word count—how many words it takes to complete a manuscript; how many get cut during editing. Then comes the timeline—how long it takes to get through copyediting. A friend of mine showed me how to take a manuscript that has been copy-edited and put it into Pages to track the number of revisions. And while that was cool to learn, it was just another number to haunt me, to obsess over, and to try to get right—whatever that means.

More publishing numbers: how quickly the book needs to be turned around, how many months, days to pub. And then, the numbers shift to reception—the number of reviews, Goodreads ratings, NetGalley and Eidelweis requests. The numbers don’t stop. They just change shape.

Once the book is out, the chase continues: the number of posts on social media, the number of followers, the number of subscribers. The formula for success remains elusive, and the pressure builds. Writers aren’t alone in this. No matter your field, numbers are always chasing you—performance metrics, annual reviews, engagement rates, sales quotas. The cycle never ends. And after a while, this constant pursuit can overshadow the real goal: growth, creativity, and fulfillment.

This endless race can lead to burnout. And burnout looks different for everyone. Some people cry. Some people yell. Some people run miles to clear their heads. Me? I bake deep-dish apple pies. My husband knows I’m in trouble when I start making a pie crust from scratch for no particular reason. He can hear how hard I’m chopping those apples. He sees the intricate lattice work I’m designing on the crust—each crimped edge and delicate braid a sign I’m trying to regain control in a world that feels overwhelming. That’s when he knows to bring me a latte or a pile of chocolate, because his wife is spiraling.

The truth is, we all need people who can pull us out of the chase, who can remind us to stop counting and start living. Rest is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. And rest doesn’t always mean sleep. Just as praying without ceasing doesn’t mean sitting still, resting is an active practice. It can be stepping away from the numbers, engaging in something that feeds your soul, or simply taking a breath. Rest looks different for everyone, but without it, we suffer. Our bodies wear down, our creativity dims, and our minds stop firing in the ways they need to. For a writer, that means losing the very words we work so hard to find.

How do we heal? How do we stop the obsession? I don’t know. We all tick differently. Some books that might help are:

The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi & Fumitake Koga – A thought-provoking book based on Adlerian psychology that challenges the need for external validation and encourages self-acceptance.

Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach – Explores the power of self-compassion and mindfulness to break free from the cycle of seeking approval.

The Gifts of Imperfection by Brené Brown – A powerful read on embracing authenticity and letting go of the need for validation from others.

What Happened to You? by Oprah Winfrey & Dr. Bruce Perry – Looks at how past experiences shape our need for validation and how to heal from them.

Fiction provides great examples of validation in all stages. Before I Let Go by Kennedy Ryan deals with validation, self-worth, and healing for both main characters, Yasmen and Josiah, as they try to define their post-divorce evolving identities.

One of the reasons I loved writing Scarlet Wilcox in my upcoming novel A Wager at Midnight is because she has divorced that part of her brain that seeks judgment. She doesn’t care what others think unless it affects her family. Yet, as brave, bold, and daring as she is in seeking her path to bring medicine to those who cannot get it—those whom society deems ineligible or unworthy—she still slips into wanting validation from a physician, Stephen Carew. Scarlet is a good balance of all of us, and I loved writing those moments where she is free of cares and when she’s forced to face her fears.

So I am giving you permission to take a moment for yourself. If you take nothing else from this podcast, learn this: It’s okay to rest. It’s necessary to rest and not focus on numbers or being superhuman. If you don’t take care of you, your body, mind, and creative being, the world will chew you up body, dry up your spirit, and move on to the next overworked soul.

But you? You are the hero of your own story. And every hero needs rest. So take off your cape, stretch it into a hammock, and allow yourself a moment of peace.

Show notes include a list of the books mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I’m highlighting Eagle Eye Bookshop through Bookshop.org.

Kishimi, I., & Koga, F. (2018). The Courage to Be Disliked: How to Free Yourself, Change Your Life, and Achieve Real Happiness. Atria Books.

Brach, T. (2003). Radical Acceptance. Bantam.

Brown, B. (2010). The Gifts of Imperfection: Let Go of Who You Think You’re Supposed to Be and Embrace Who You Are. Hazelden Publishing.

Winfrey, O., & Perry, B. D. (2021). What Happened to You? Conversations on Trauma, Resilience, and Healing. Flatiron Books.

Riley, V. (2024). A Wager at Midnight. Kensington Publishing.

Ryan, K. (2022). Before I Let Go. Forever.

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Originally posted 2025-03-11 13:10:00.