I almost got canceled over a book cover I didn’t create and fought against. But strangely enough, that disaster became part of a much bigger conversation about who gets represented in historical romance.

My first book was traditionally published. Books two through sixteen—independently published.

And the reason for going Indie after landing an agent was simple: at the time, there was this deeply toxic idea in publishing that stories centered on Black women in history—especially in the Regency and Georgian eras—didn’t have an audience.

Publishers didn’t understand the history and how diverse it is. And worse, they underestimated readers. They didn’t think you were interested.

So my agent and I parted ways, and I decided to prove there was a market for these books.

And y’all showed up.

Especially those of you who’ve been here since the beginning. You built this career with me. You bought the books, reviewed the books, recommended the books, argued for these heroines and these histories before the industry ever wanted to them to exist.

Eventually, traditional publishers circled back. They wanted proposals, manuscripts, meetings. And I ultimately signed with Entangled Publishing in 2017.

The Bittersweet Bride was my return to traditional publishing after years away.

Now, if you think authors have control over their covers, let me lovingly disillusion you.

Unless you’re a massive bestseller or have enough marketplace leverage to force approvals, you often don’t have much say at all. And at that point—In traditional publishing’s eyes, I was basically starting over. I had independent success, but not traditional “credibility.”

So the cover came in.

And you guys…it was digital blackface.

The art department had apparently searched the internet trying to find a Black woman in Regency clothing and decided the solution was to take a White model and darken her skin in Photoshop.

That was the cover for my seventeenth book.

I told them, people could tell and that she looked ashy. Everyone knows Black women use lotion. That is my humor in a difficult situation. But despite my objections, that was the direction they chose.

Then the internet detectives got involved. Folks on what is now X found the original image of the model and placed it beside the published cover. The outrage exploded.

People were furious—and rightfully so. But a lot of folks also assumed I had approved it. Some came directly for me. And because my name was on that book, I stood there and took it.

But I didn’t make that cover. I protested it. I lost the fight. And in traditional publishing, sometimes that happens—you lose the fight.

Now to the publisher’s credit, once they realized how serious the backlash was, things changed. Suddenly I was included in cover discussions. Eventually they started working with the graphic artists who had designed many of my indie covers.

The one benefit was the larger conversation became:

Why is there such a lack of diverse historical stock photography?

Why were publishers struggling to find Black models in period dress? Why weren’t there archives, databases, and photo shoots representing different skin tones, body types, cultures, and histories?

People pushed hard for change.

And like many things in publishing and media… some progress happened, a lot did not.

A few companies stepped up. A few photographers expanded their collections. But a lot of the industry stayed status quo because the demand for diverse historical imagery was still considered “niche.”

Fast forward to today.

I’m scrolling through Instagram and I get a comment from the actual model whose photos were used for the cover of A Deal at Dawn.

And y’all—I screamed for joy.

This is book number thirty. Thirty.

And this time, there’s a real Black woman on the cover portraying Katherine Wilcox, the eldest Wilcox sister, Lady Hampton. She’s elegant, beautiful, luminous—everything Katherine should be.

And for me, it felt like a full-circle moment.

My reentry into traditional publishing came with a cover disaster and now, years later, I have a cover miracle. My publisher Kensington Publishing Corp. found authentic imagery featuring a real Black model for my historical romance cover.

That matters.

Recently, I went on Threads and asked other authors how they’re navigating this issue now. Some shared resources for diverse stock photography. Some said they’re still struggling. Others have moved toward illustrated covers—what some folks dismissively call “cartoon covers.”

But honestly? I love illustrated covers.

Illustration allows artists to create a vision that includes everyone. You aren’t limited by the stock that exists. When I’ve had illustrated covers—let’s just say the difference in sales and wide appeal is apparent. It’s hard to accept that people look at pretty cover with a Black Regency Heroine and say it’s not for them.

But things are better. Cover artists may still have to build composites from multiple photos—one face, another body, different fabrics, accessories, backgrounds to create magic. Photoshop isn’t the problem. It’s another answer to the stock shortage.

Disparities still exist—and in this climate gaps may not be filled—so I’m grateful for every small movement forward.

So this week, I’m highlighting dedicated inclusive stock platforms include:

• Nappy — a free platform focused on beautiful imagery of Black and Brown people.

• POC Stock — a diversity-focused media platform centering BIPOC creators and imagery.

• TONL — curated culturally diverse photography built around authentic everyday representation.

• CreateHER Stock — lifestyle and business imagery featuring Black and Brown women.

• The Gender Spectrum Collection — a free collection created with VICE focused on trans and nonbinary representation.

• Disabled And Here — disability-led photography featuring disabled BIPOC individuals.

• Iwaria — authentic stock photography centered on continental Africa.

You can peruse mainstream sites they have more inclusion than they did in 2017.

• Stocksy

• Getty Images Project #ShowUs

• Unsplash

• Pexels

• Alamy

• Getty Images

• Shutterstock

Period Images has some people of color in Regency costumes.

And my new heroes, Morgan Miles Photography

Are things perfect? No.

But things are better. Times have changed slightly.

Why?

Readers expect us here.

We belong here.

Respect and authenticity matters.

And somewhere between a disastrous digitally altered cover and a real Black model proudly messaging me about portraying one of my heroines… something shifted.

In times like these, I think we have to hold onto moments of progress, even as we continue to work.

If slow progress makes you mad, raise a sword and consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea, my latest release.

Or if you are in need of laughs and inclusivity, preorder or review at NetGalley, or request at your local library, A Deal at Dawn. Step into a cliffhanger, where the Duke of Torrance is dying to finally be a father to his daughter but he must deal her with mother, the woman who humbled him and broke his heart.

Get these books from Eagle Eye Books. They still have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

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

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. That’s the truth, I need you. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stepped up on the stage and quoted:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On that TED stage, he concluded:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Books to get us through these moments:

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

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

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

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

This week, I’m highlighting Turning Page Bookshop through their website and Bookshop.org

Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female pirates in the 1600s. This sweeping saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title.

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

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

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

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

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

Originally posted 2025-07-22 13:10:00.

History teaches us many things. One of them is this: if there is a way for a scammer to scam, they will do it. My inbox fills daily with AI-generated emails faker than a three-dollar bill. Why are we so desperate for engagement we fall for or create AI spam?

AI, Why You Playing With Me?

Spam, Scams, and the Death of Real Conversation

Hi, my name is Vanessa Riley. I write historical fiction, historical mystery, and historical romance. I spend my days researching forgotten histories, wrestling with plot twists, and trying to give humanity back to people history often ignored. I love my work. Truly.

But apparently, according to my inbox, I also spend my days fielding an avalanche of AI-generated nonsense.

Listen, marketers of the world, if you are going to use AI to write emails, could you at least read through what it spits out before you hit send?

Every morning I open my inbox like Laura Croft entering a cursed temple. Traps are everywhere. Fake refunds. Fake podcast pitches. Fake collaboration requests. SEO “experts” promising to optimize books they clearly know nothing about. And every one of them begins with some robotic compliment so painfully generic I can practically hear the ChatGPT loading wheel spinning in the background.

“I admire the emotional depth of your work…”

“The authenticity of your storytelling…”

“We noticed a visibility gap…”

No, you didn’t. AI noticed a keyword.

And here’s the thing: if you can use AI to generate an email, couldn’t you also use it to figure out whether a book is traditionally published?

Couldn’t you ask the bot:

“What it mean if a book is published by HarperCollins?”

Or:

“Hey chat, does the author control Amazon optimization for traditionally published books?”

Let me save everyone some time: I do not control Goodreads optimization. I do not control Amazon metadata. I do not secretly run SEO campaigns out of my kitchen while baking biscuits and revising chapters.

If you want to spam someone about algorithms and discoverability, send those emails to HarperCollins, William Morrow, Bethany House, Kensington, Penguin Random House, Entangled, Macmillan—send it to them. They’re getting a cut of this AI-fueled stolen books economy. I’m sure they have more resources to wade through ill-conceived emails.

And the emails themselves? Oh, they are spectacularly bad.

One message asked if I accepted guest editorial contributions on my website because they create “high-quality, informative articles written with readers in mind.”

Nothing in the robotic cadence , gives me any confidence that you could write a grocery list.

My website gets real traffic from real readers. I’m not handing access over so some AI-generated backlink farm can attach itself to my work.

Marketers and hooligans work harder. Work smarter.

Then there are the straight up scams.

The fake refund notices are annoying. Like who doesn’t know they are due for a refund?

“Your Refund Has Been Scheduled.”

Scheduled for what? Emotional damage? Bankruptcy?

They’re hoping somebody panics enough to call the number, click the link, or chase money they never expected in the first place. And honestly, in this economy, maybe they think authors are desperate enough to fall for it.

And let me be honest: authors are working very hard in difficult times. The rumors you are hearing are true. Every advance for level playing fields have been stripped like section 2 of the voting rights act.

Like women right now in the workforce, Women authors are hard hit. Especially women writing history people want erased. Especially women writing love stories about people some want to dismiss. Especially writers creating stories centered around people with melanin that didn’t come from a spray tan.

The algorithms that are sending us spam are the same ones helping to propagate misinformation, misogyny, and mistrust.

That’s reality.

Hey, everyone is entitled to their tastes, opinions, and preferences. Fine. Love what you love.

But what I’m asking is to please stop using AI to force your way into spaces you clearly know nothing about and are just trying to pilfer my time, money, or sanity.

Here’s a hint for my fellow authors and author advocates ( alive or AI):

Don’t ask to appear on podcasts you’ve never listened to.

Don’t pitch movies that have nothing to do with my audience.

Don’t ask for access to my readers when a simple Google search would tell you our values are not aligned.

These AI pitches are bad. It’s obvious that they’ve never read a page of my work or listened to a single episode of my podcast.

As what I jokingly call a “D-level celebrity,” I receive endless requests to promote products, feature guests, collaborate on content, and invite strangers into my personal creative space. They want access to you. They want our time together. It’s precious what we have. I honor and treasure it.

For the record: my podcast is not an interview show.

It’s Vanessa’s weekly rant about life, publishing, creativity, history, hustle, exhaustion, ambition, joy, and the utter foolishness connecting all of them together.

But strangely enough, all this AI noise made me realize, I actually do want to expand our conversations.

Real conversation.

Human conversation.

Not generated engagement. Not automated flattery. Not keyword-stuffed attempts written by software trained on prompts and desperation.

I want dialogue.

So I’m creating something called Passage Voices.

If one of my essays moves you, challenges you, irritates you, inspires you—respond. Send a one-minute recorded essay or reflection that I may feature in an upcoming episode. I want readers to talk back. I want thoughtful engagement, even disagreement. I want community.

This is the Nation of Vanessa. I reserve the right to show a little favoritism to subscribers, the people who genuinely support my work.

That’s one of the perks of building your own creative community.

So here is my final plea to the internet:

Please stop using AI to write painful emails.

Please stop asking for access to communities you haven’t taken time to understand.

And for the love of all things holy and righteous, stop sending refund notices— just send cash.

Come to an event! Buy a book. Hey you could even become a paid subscriber, if you have all the refund money lying around.

But if you are genuine—if you actually care about stories, conversation, and community—then come join the conversation honestly.

Human to human.

No chatbot middleman required.

This week’s book list features books to help us process:

You Look Like a Thing and I Love You by Janelle Shane

Funny, accessible, and perfect for readers trying to understand why AI-generated communication often sounds so wrong.

Erasure — by Percival Everett

A brilliant takedown of publishing stereotypes, market expectations, and performative authenticity.

Kindred — by Octavia Butler

Because human memory, history, and inherited trauma cannot be automated into neat little prompts.

And if you just want to raise a sword and cut to the truth, consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea, my latest release.

Or if you are in need of laughs and inclusivity, preorder or review at NetGalley, a Deal at Dawn. Step into a cliffhanger, where the Duke of Torrance is dying to finally be a father to his daughter but he must deal her with mother, the woman who humbled him and broke his heart.

Get these books from Eagle Eye Books. They still have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

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

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. That’s the truth, I need you. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

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

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

Apparently, that’s so 2008.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But no.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet there’s hope in storytelling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Originally posted 2025-07-15 13:10:00.

Take a moment and sit with this:

A country can be both powerful and fragile at the same time.

We can be proud—and still be in the wrong.

And right now, we’re standing in the middle of a reckoning.

The question isn’t why anymore… It’s what we do next.

There’s a hard truth we don’t want to acknowledge. We are here because of apathy, arrogance, and anger.

And three things can be true at once.

First, the reckoning—the judgment on America—can be deserved. Our standing in the world, the fall from once being revered to a joke, is deserved. Our actions have impacted for the worse, the world economy.

Second, there are a lot of people getting caught in the gears of that reckoning.

And third, plain and simple, ain’t nobody got time for this kind of suffering.

So the real questions of why we are here are over. It’s time to focus on how we set things right.

I’m not here to say “I told you so.” That’s easy, and it doesn’t solve anything. But I do want to ground us in a quick lesson.

People died fighting for civil rights. Not centuries ago—less than seventy years. There are people caught in pictures screaming at little children, threatening violence because a child wants an education. Less than seventy years, they can still be alive. Their children who grew up with hate are still here, still carrying the hate. But now they are screamers, politicians, footstools in the patriarchy. Heck, they might be leading it.

The Voting Rights Act passed in 1965. So let’s round up, seventy years is supposed to make up for 400 years of slavery?

According to the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) at least 4,400 lynchings of Black Americans occurred between 1877 and 1950.

The Southern Poverty Law Center and other National Archives, Civil Rights Movement records, estimate 60+ people were killed in direct civil rights–related violence between 1960 and 1965.

We know the famous names:

Medgar Evers (1963)

Herbert Lee (1961)

James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner (1964)

Jimmie Lee Jackson (1965)

Viola Liuzzo (1965)

Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley

They were between 11 and 14 years old, killed in the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing.

When I research and one of those photos comes up, you know the ones with hordes of adults screaming and wishing harm on babies like Ruby Bridges.

I see eyes glazed over with hate, mouths open, screaming curse words, and words at children integrating schools. But I’m supposed to believe that these hateful people’s children and grandchildren miraculously have no more prejudice…you know, the prejudice that forced us to legislate decency and morality.

That these people in my neighborhood, near my child and other brown and Black children, have evolved.

The past isn’t gone. It’s merely buried. When no one is watching, hate has a way of rising back up.

Far too many of us got comfortable. We lived in neighborhoods that looked integrated on the surface. We worshipped in spaces where anyone could walk in. We shopped, ate, worked, and convinced ourselves that access meant equity—that if you were qualified, you could get the job; if you worked hard, you’d be fine.

That comfort made us forget the stakes.

We can’t be forgetful when others are already standing in unemployment lines. Some are choosing between medicine and groceries. Others were already relying on food banks just to make it through the week.

And now, more people are feeling that edge. Seventeen thousand people just lost their job as jet fuel prices spike. We had an economy that, for a moment, felt like it was rebounding—strong, even enviable. But instability, policy choices, and global tensions have brought us to a place where the cost of living is climbing fast. Safety nets are thinning. Healthcare is slipping out of reach for far too many.

There’s a widening gap between those who are managing and those who are barely holding on.

Yes—if you have a roof over your head, a working car, food in your fridge—you’re not doing so badly.

But that’s not the whole picture. It can’t be. Some folks are:

One paycheck away. One emergency away. One layoff away from disaster.

If you’re listening to this essay—on a podcast app, on Substack, anywhere—you have a degree of privilege.

Use that guilt. Bear our responsibility in this mess.

We were, at one point, moving—slowly, imperfectly—toward a more perfect union.

Then fear crept in.

Fear that equality meant loss. Fear that if everyone has a seat at the table, some people wouldn’t feel special anymore. And that fear dressed itself up in many forms—sexism, misogyny, exclusion, resentment, and yes, good old-fashioned racism.

You can’t put that genie back in the bottle. There’s no Superman coming to spin the world backward so we undo everything and make better choices.

This is the burden—and the beauty—of a fragile democracy.

We get to choose. Even when we choose poorly.

So now we’re here, in this moment, asking ourselves:

What else are we willing to lose?

How much more will be stripped away before we pay attention?

I am afraid. More afraid than angry. This is a new place for me. And I suppose for you too.

Since three things can be true at once, then we can do three things at once:

We can acknowledge the reckoning.

We can care for the people caught in it.

And we can decide, collectively, that we don’t have time to sit around and take things like voting for granted… that is, while we still can.

This week’s book list features books to help us process:

How to Be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi — Explains how neutrality and “not racist” thinking fuel systemic harm.

Walking with the Wind by John Lewis — A firsthand account of the Civil Rights Movement that reminds us how recent—and costly—those gains were.

Caste: The Origins of

Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson — Argues that America operates under an unspoken caste system, explaining why inequality persists despite progress.

And if you just want to raise a sword and cut to the truth, consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea, my latest release.

Or if you are in need of laughs and inclusivity, preorder or review at NetGalley, a Deal at Dawn. Step into a cliffhanger, where the Duke of Torrance is dying to finally be a father to his daughter but he must deal her with mother, the woman who humbled him and broke his heart.

All these books from The A Small Place Bookshop. They still have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

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

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. That’s the truth, I need you. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Big Beautiful Lies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No Free Rides or Shades

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

How do we protect ourselves?

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

But you can protect yourself:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Books to bring awareness of the problem are:

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

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

The Coming Wave: AI, Power, and Our Future

by Mustafa Suleyman

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

And of course lets aid:

Burn Book by Kara Swisher

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

Mostly What God Does by Savannah Guthrie

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

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

This week, I’m highlighting Park Books through their website and Bookshop.org

Help me build momentum for Fire Sword and Sea—spread the word and preorder this disruptive narrative about female pirates in the 1600s. This sweeping saga releases January 13, 2026. The link on my website shows retailers large and small who have set up preorders for this title.

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

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

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

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

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

Originally posted 2025-07-08 13:10:00.

What happens when you can’t trust your own eyes?

In a world of deepfakes and media spin—from Meghan, Duchess of Sussex to Megan Thee Stallion to the White House Correspondents Dinner—the real question isn’t what’s true… it’s why we don’t care anymore.

We are living in a moment when the old question—what is truth? —is being asked again.—has become the question of the moment. Aren’t you tired of relative half-truths?

In an era defined by dishonest politicians, fragmented media ecosystems, and an internet that resembles a lawless western, the ability to trust what we see and hear is gone. The phrase “who are you going to believe, me or your lying eyes?”—popularized in Duck Soup—has shifted from comedy into cultural diagnosis. It was satire, people. Now it feels like instruction.

At the center of this crisis is the mistrust of visual evidence itself. A recent controversy involving Meghan, Duchess of Sussex, illustrates the problem. A report from The Daily Beast, a source I relied upon in the 2010s, included a video clip on April 23, 2026, that critics argue appeared slowed down or altered to make the Duchess seem robotic—supporting a narrative that she, a woman of color, a Black woman, is difficult to work with. Observers suggested the footage has been misleadingly edited or even AI-manipulated.

This incident is not isolated; it exists within a broader pattern of fabricated or distorted media. The point is not merely whether a clip was altered, but how easily perception can be engineered. Biased people want angry or disillusioned eyeballs.

More manipulation is on the way, fueled by the rapid rise of deepfake technology. According to data from the Global Cyber Alliance and others, the number of deepfake files online is projected to have grown from 500,000 in 2023 to 8 million by the end of 2025—that’s an annual increase of 900%.

The average American now encounters approximately 2.6 deepfakes per day, with younger adults seeing even more. And our human ability to detect these falsehoods is surprisingly low: studies show our ability to detect deepfakes is below 25%, which is worse than flipping a coin.

The consequences extend beyond embarrassment or celebrity gossip. Deepfake-driven fraud caused an estimated $547 million in losses in just the first half of 2025, and AI-enabled fraud could reach $40 billion in the United States by 2027. Our midterm elections are in trouble. Seventy-eight deepfake election manipulations were discovered in 2024 alone. This is a growing threat to democratic processes.

Yet, if this past weekend is any indication, we have a worse threat: apathy. Over the weekend of April 25–26, 2026, two major events unfolded: a security incident at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner and the highly publicized breakup between Megan Thee Stallion and Klay Thompson. The former, involving a reported shooting and evacuation of the president, should have dominated national concern. Instead, the latter—a celebrity breakup fueled by allegations of infidelity—captured social media attention, with search interest spiking over 800%. Lord knows I have seen as many think-pieces on male-female relationships as I’ve seen screeds saying the correspondents’ dinner was fake.

It is a shame that political events are now filtered through suspicion, conspiracy, and fatigue. When reports emerged of a potential assassination attempt, many didn’t ask what happened but whether the attack was staged. Questions about security lapses—how an armed individual could approach so closely—become entangled with blatant distrust in institutions and others using the event to get a ballroom built. Cynicism ran rampant.

Cynicism and para-social relationships make celebrity narratives feel more immediate, and perhaps more “real.” But these narratives take hold by performance and perception.

In Lyin’ Eyes by the Eagles, we were told to: “You can’t hide your lyin’ eyes.” In 2000, the denial anthem “It Wasn’t Me” by Shaggy fed the growing, complicit beast.

“Never admit to a word when she say

And if she claim, ah, you tell her, “Baby, no way”…

But she caught me on the counter (It wasn’t me)

Saw me kissin’ on the sofa (It wasn’t me)

I even had her in the shower (It wasn’t me)

She even caught me on camera (It wasn’t me)…”

The deeper issue is not simply that misinformation exists, but that our collective response is to believe the lies or not care about what’s right or wrong, and to spread the wrong.

We no longer fully trust our eyes.

But we also lack the will to interrogate what we see. Facts have become negotiable, subject to “both-sides” framing that equates evidence with opinion and treats the right as equally wrong. This erosion of journalistic standards undermines personal judgment and public discourse.

Honesty, we must begin at the top.

Political leaders who lie and distort reality set the tone for our society.

When “truth” becomes a strategic tool rather than a shared foundation, citizens are left to believe everyone is lying. And soon we don’t care to believe differently.

We are fragmented.

We are divided.

So we are that much easier to manipulate.

In a world where images and narratives can be fabricated, what will spur us to try to discern the truth? It won’t be technology alone that saves us. Somehow, we have to get back to being better angels and our brothers and sisters’ keepers.

That requires a renewed commitment to finding the truth. Until we do, we’ll settle for the least offensive lies we can stomach.

We must do better. We must relearn how to care about the things that are supposed to matter.

This week’s book list includes:

Deepfakes by Nina Schick. A clear, urgent look at how AI-generated media is reshaping truth, power, and global politics.

Trust No One: Inside the World of Deepfakes by Michael Grothaus. An inside exploration of how deepfakes work and why they pose a serious threat to identity and reality.

True or False: A CIA Analyst’s Guide to Spotting Fake News by Cindy L. Otis. A practical guide to identifying misinformation and thinking critically about what you see online.

And if you just want to raise a sword and cut to the truth, consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea, my latest release, and all these books from The FoxTale Book Shoppe. They still have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea.

You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.

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

Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. That’s the truth, I need you. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.

Thank you for being here. Thank you to everyone who came out to Conyers or Detroit!

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