Episodios

  • AI Can’t Fake the Funk or the Fire

    AI Can’t Fake the Funk or the Fire
    Oct 7 2025
    I was at the James River Writers Conference this weekend in Richmond, Virginia—one of those places that fills your creative tank. I got to do what I love: hang out with writers. Hungry writers. People on fire to get their words into the world.And of course, on one of my panels, the inevitable question came up: “What about AI? Are writers going to lose their jobs?”Now, let me tell you something. If you opened my email inbox right now, you’d find about eight—maybe ten—AI-written marketing emails. Every single one is bad. Cringeworthy bad. Pseudo-personal, stuffed with buzzwords, maybe even a random line pulled from the blurb of Island Queen to make it sound like they actually know me. But give it a few more sentences, and it’s obvious—they don’t. They just tossed my name into a prompt, hit “generate,” and sent it flying into the void.So I tell authors this: AI might be everywhere. It might be fast. But being everywhere and fast with crap doesn’t win you prizes, and it certainly doesn’t feed the hunger of readers looking for their next great adventure.AI is supposed to save time—or so the marketing folks keep telling us. But when I spend half my morning clearing these AI-spam messages, I don’t see time saved. I see time stolen.The emails all sound the same: “I’ve been following your amazing career!” or “I just loved your latest book!” or “I truly believe your book has the potential.” Or “You deserve more reviews.” That all might be true. Then, two lines later, they’re congratulating me on a novel I didn’t even write. One even mixed me up with another author completely.That’s not artificial intelligence. That’s artificial nonsense.And here’s what gets me. These marketers aren’t even good at using AI. They feed it bad prompts, copy-paste whatever it spits out, and send it to hundreds of people like me. It’s the new form of spam—shiny, overconfident, and hollow.At the conference, one of my fellow panelists said something that stuck with me. He said he couldn’t think of a single real-world problem AI has solved. Investors are pouring billions into it, hoping it’ll fix something. But from where I sit, the only thing it’s “solved”—and I’m using air quotes here—is how to steal everyone’s work faster and give marketers another toy to misuse.Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not anti-AI. It’s a tool, and tools can be useful when used wisely. But we’ve made it ubiquitous too fast, without guardrails or reflection. And those without our best interests in mind are using it to fleece people.So, if you get one of those AI-assisted marketing emails in your inbox—mark it as spam. Don’t be fooled by fake flattery. If they’re offering some “exclusive service,” go straight to ChatGPT or Claude or one of the others and ask the same question. You’ll probably get the same result for free—or at least for a much lower monthly payment.But let’s shift gears—because there’s more hope than fear. At that same conference, I saw what I love most: people learning. People hungry for craft, open to feedback, and ready to chase their dream of writing a book. When writers invest in themselves—show up to workshops, ask hard questions, lean into the fight to say something of value—it gives me hope.When I hear someone say AI will put authors out of business, I just smile. What we do is too special for that. The dreams we carry, the stories only we can tell—AI can’t imagine them. It can remix what’s already stolen, sure. But it can’t reach into the unseen, the unspoken, the wilder parts of the human heart.One of my fellow panelists, R. R. Virdi, put it perfectly: AI can only feed on itself. It can only regurgitate what it already knows. That spark of divine imagination—the moment a story idea hits like lightning—that’s still ours. And as long as we keep creating, we’ll always be ahead.So to the marketers: maybe write your own emails. Try a little authenticity. Readers and customers can tell the difference.And to my wonderful listeners—the dreamers, the students of the writing craft—I’ve got something exciting coming your way. I’m launching a Kickstarter for The Storycraft Writer’s Journal. It’s a tool I’ve built from years of speaking and teaching on writing—packed with my forms, formulas, and geeky plotting tricks to help you organize research, track writing beats, and create the kind of stories no algorithm could ever predict.The best way to make sure AI doesn’t take your job is for you to keep writing and keep growing your talent, creating something only you can make.Oh—and before I continue, reviews are rolling in for Fire Sword and Sea—and people are loving it. If you’re on NetGalley, grab an ARC and take that journey with Jacquotte Delahaye. There’s also a Goodreads giveaway running for twenty copies, but fair warning: I’m missing about thirty-two ARCs that got lost in the mail, so if you...
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    13 m
  • Hanging With Writers

    Hanging With Writers
    Sep 30 2025
    This past weekend, I had the honor of spending three days in Albuquerque with the Women’s Fiction Writers Association at their West Retreat. Three days to talk about the things I love most—our craft and the business of publishing. There’s nothing quite like being surrounded by writers, people who understand the struggle and the joy of creating stories. And there’s no better moment than seeing that spark in someone’s eyes when something you’ve said helps unlock their story in a brand-new way.One of the sessions conversationsI led centered on the Hero’s Journey and its counterpart, the Heroine’s Journey. These structures aren’t just tools for making sure your story moves forward or that the middle doesn’t sag—they’re also frameworks that allow us to dig into what makes heroes and heroines truly special. We looked at the communal aspects of the heroine’s return, the healing wisdom mentors pass on, and how both journeys can be reimagined for today’s storytelling.If you’ve been feeling stuck in your own writing, I want to encourage you to consider a writing retreat. A retreat takes you out of your ordinary world and places you in an environment designed for creativity. This particular hotel in Albuquerque, called Hotel Albuquerque, was perfect—full of quiet corners to write in, with the gentle sound of a water feature trickling in the background. The temperature was just right, and the breeze seemed to carry with it a rhythm I needed as I started drafting a new manuscript. Finding that rhythm is essential—especially when facing the hardest part of writing: the beginning. As we talked about during the retreat, the beginning has to do so much work. It must pull the reader in, set the tone, and launch the story forward. That challenge can feel overwhelming, but when you’re sitting among other writers, sharing the struggle, the rhythm comes easier.For me, the joy of being with this group of women writers was in the way we each gave something to one another. We shared, we encouraged, and we carried each other forward. Writing can be isolating, and even now, years after the height of the pandemic, many of us are still recovering from that deep loneliness. Yes, Zoom calls and late-night chats kept us connected, but nothing replaces being physically together—hearing voices, exchanging ideas, and being present in the same space.That’s why I encourage every writer listening to this: put a writing retreat in your budget for 2026. No matter where you are in your career—whether you’re drafting your first book or publishing your thirtieth—invest in yourself and your craft. Retreats give you knowledge, community, and the reminder that you’re not alone in this work.At this retreat, I was honored to teach three workshops: Write Fast, Write Now: Unveiling Character Arcs, The Substack Strategy: Building an Author Platform That Works, and Rethinking the Hero’s Journey for Today’s Storytelling Trends. Teaching craft is one of my greatest joys, because no matter how many books I’ve published—Fire Sword and Sea is my twenty-ninth—there is always more to learn. Every retreat, every conversation with another writer, teaches me something new.And to those of you who were in Albuquerque with me: thank you. Thank you for giving me your attention, your questions, and your trust. Thank you for letting me be fully myself in that space. You gave me as much as I gave you. I left inspired, energized, and dreaming of hundreds more books—your books—coming into the world.That is the magic of retreats, the magic of community, and the magic of the writer’s journey itself.Books to get you into the writing mood:The Hero with a Thousand Faces by Joseph Campbell — the classic foundation for understanding the Hero’s Journey.The Heroine’s Journey by Gail Carriger — a modern, approachable exploration of the heroine’s path and how it differs from Campbell’s.The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler — a practical, writer-focused guide to adapting mythic structure for storytelling.Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott — reflections on the writer’s life and craft, with humor and heartBig Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert — embracing creativity, fear, and joy in the artistic process.We are three and half months away from Fire Sword and Sea—Get those preorder in, and help build the momentum for this historical fiction. Please spread the word about lady pirates in the 1600s.They are women, many our Black and Indigenous. All want a better way of life. Piracy is legal. It’s their answer. This novel 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.If you’re ready to move with purpose and power, hit that like button and subscribe to Write of ...
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    9 m
  • Ready to Give An Account?

    Ready to Give An Account?
    Sep 23 2025
    The rapture is said to be Tuesday. Are you ready to meet your Maker? More importantly, are you ready to give an account for every moment you have not fully lived up to your calling? The internet is buzzing with theories and because of recent events—assassinations, and global unrest—some belie the end is near. But for those of us grounded in Christian faith, we know the truth. According to Matthew 24:36, we are told:“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”(NIV)History is littered with hoaxes, false predictions of the end times that have left people swindled, embarrassed, and disappointed when life simply continued.In 1843 and 1844, a Baptist preacher named William Miller predicted that Jesus would return between March 21, 1843, and March 21, 1844. When this did not happen, he revised the date to October 22, 1844, resulting in what became known as the "Great Disappointment."In 1988, former NASA engineer Edgar C. Whisenant published 88 Reasons Why the Rapture Will Be in 1988, predicting the rapture between September 11 and September 13, 1988. When his prediction failed, he revised it multiple times, first to October 3, 1988, and later to 1989, 1993, and 1994. Even engineers can be wrong.In 1992, a South Korean religious movement led by Lee Jang Rim, called the Dami Mission, predicted the rapture on October 28; when it did not occur, Lee was convicted of defrauding his followers out of millions of dollars.In 1997, Pastor Ed Dobson, a nationally known speaker and author, published The End: Why Jesus Could Return by A.D. 2000, arguing that the increasingly chaotic world was a sign that Jesus would return soon. While he correctly noted that the world was becoming more hectic, his prediction did not come to pass.One of the more tragic predictions came from the Heaven’s Gate cult, which believed the appearance of Comet Hale-Bopp in 1997 was a sign that Earth was about to end, and that they had to hitch a ride on a spaceship hidden within the comet. Following this belief, 39 cult members committed mass suicide, a devastating reminder of the dangers of such predictions.Televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr. speculated that the Antichrist would appear sometime between 1999 and 2009. While controversial and widely criticized, this prediction, too, failed to materialize.In 2011, Christian radio broadcaster Harold Camping declared that the rapture would occur on May 21. When that failed, he revised the date to October 21, 2011, having predicted again in 1994. Again his followers, felt betrayed.Televangelist John Hagee, co-authoring with Mark Blitz the book Four Blood Moons: Something Is About to Change, claimed that a series of four consecutive lunar eclipses from April 2014 to September 27–28, 2015, signaled the end times. The blood moons came and went, with no apocalypse in sight.Finally, some voices in the Christian community warned that the year 2020 would signal the end, citing technological collapse, disease, or other cataclysms. While 2020 was undeniably a difficult year, the world continued, proving once again that apocalyptic predictions are best approached with skepticism.And of course the most recently spread rumor on TikTok and repeated on other social media is another announcement for the rapture. As far as I can tell, this one is being reported to have originated by South African Pastor Joshua Mhlakela. Mhlakela has predicted that the rapture would happen on September 23 and 24, 2025, claiming the revelation came to him in a dream. Well that dream has spread like wildfire.These examples remind us that no matter how convincing the prediction may seem, life continues—and those who place too much faith in a date are often left disappointed.So I return to the core question: are we living in a way that truly honors our calling? For me, the answer is clear. I want to live a life worthy of the gifts God has given me—the talent to write, to speak, and to walk upright. These are not abstract abilities; they are distinct blessings that shape how I move through the world. The gift of health allows me to scale mountains, jog a mile, and experience life with vitality. The gift of speech gives me the ability to share ideas, offer wisdom, and brighten someone’s day—whether here on this podcast, in a keynote, or at a workshop. And the gift I cherish the most, the gift of writing, allows me to breathe life into characters, to refine ideas, and to share stories that resonate across time and space. Writing is where my soul finds joy.Yet, when I reflect honestly, I know my work is far from complete. I want to reach more people, encourage those from every station and place, and see my characters come alive on television and streaming platforms. I want history told in its full context—the good, the bad, and the ugly—so that everyone can know the truth, and even see themselves in these stories. My mission is not finished until these stories ...
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    12 m
  • Wantonly Treacherous

    Wantonly Treacherous
    Sep 18 2025
    Before I begin my essay, I want to take a moment to thank all Write of Passage Subscribers, and especially my paid supporters. At the end of the SubStack, I have resources for you, all who help make this broadcast possible, week after week.Wantonly TreacherousI’ve been reading Psalms lately—Psalms 25:1-6 in particular. When anxiety, uncertainty, and unrest are high, the wisdom and comfort in David’s words bless my soul.This week has been heavy. It marked the 24th anniversary of 9/11, one of the largest attacks on American soil. More than 3,000 lives were lost, including children, and over 3,051 children lost a parent that day. I often think about life before September 11—on the 10th, I was working at a high-tech startup preparing for a visit from Cantor Fitzgerald. Then we watched the towers fall, the attack on the Pentagon, and the downed flight in Pennsylvania. Soon we learned that Cantor Fitzgerald had fallen too, with 658 of its employees perishing. America awakened to new threats. And the startup—my startup—never closed that round of financing. In essence, it was another casualty.“O my God, in you I trust.”Back to the present: On September 10, 2025, three students were taken to the hospital in critical condition following gunfire at Evergreen High School in Colorado. Gun violence is not new. It amazes me that the death and injury of schoolchildren—kids with their futures ahead of them—are barely covered in the news. It’s as though we’ve accepted such horrors as part of our lives.“Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame.”The very next day, September 11, several historically Black colleges and universities—Spelman University, Alabama State University, Hampton University, Virginia State University, Southern University A&M, and Bethune-Cookman University—went into lockdown due to threats of violence. People wanted to take their anger out on innocent students. White rage targeting Black communities is not new. White rage bringing violence to Black folk minding their business—like these college students—is also not new.The Memphis Massacre of 1866 left 46 Black people dead and destroyed homes, churches, and schools. Later that same year, the New Orleans Massacre saw a white mob attack newly freed Black citizens, killing more than 35. In 1873, the Colfax Massacre in Louisiana claimed the lives of about 150 Black militia members who were attempting to surrender. The following year, the Vicksburg Massacre of 1874 in Mississippi killed an estimated 300 Black citizens.The violence continued into the 20th century. The Springfield Race Riot of 1908 killed at least 15 Black residents. In 1920, the Ocoee Massacre in Florida took the lives of up to 80 Black people, while homes and churches were burned. The Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 left as many as 300 Black residents dead, as thousands of White rioters looted and burned the thriving Greenwood district. Just two years later, the Rosewood Massacre of 1923 killed an estimated 150 Black residents, and the entire town was destroyed by a white mob.“They shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous.”And when violence on September 10, 2025 also struck a college campus in Utah, members of Congress, media voices, and others pointed to the marginalized as the source. In now-deleted tweets, they stoked the raw underbelly of anger in this nation. Instead of waiting for facts, people grabbed hold of their insecurities and hate, clamoring for civil war.Unfortunately, this too is not new. People are desperate to blame someone else for their pain. The immigrant, the stranger, the marginalized in society carry invisible targets on their backs.“Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths.”Then, the news broke the shooter who assassinated a man on Utah’s campus—a man whose speeches proclaimed white supremacy, who said he could not trust a pilot because of his skin color, who claimed slavery was good—was killed by a White young man from a conservative Utah family. The victim who espoused the right to bear arms and dismissed gun violence as inevitable casualties, died from a single shot fired from the young man’s assault weapon. A wife and young children are left heartbroken and bereft, facing the very world this husband and father had worked so hard to wantonly paint the world with treacherous words.“Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation.”This assassination is a tragedy. Every incident I’ve listed is a tragedy. But this one makes me think about the words I say—and the words I will leave behind in my podcasts and in each of my books. I don’t want to be wantonly treacherous. I don’t want people to dismiss my message because they lack empathy or understanding. I also don’t want to craft arcs of cynicism. My message is clear: there is too much wanton disrespect, too much treacherous loss of life, and too much excuse-seeking to blame rather than finding true ...
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    12 m
  • Mad as Heck, Writing Anyway

    Mad as Heck, Writing Anyway
    Sep 9 2025
    I wrote this essay when I was angry.I consider myself a rational, reasonable individual. My life has been one of success—working hard, pushing the envelope, and achieving. Deep down, though, I think I’m very guilty of believing that if you build it and honor it, they will come. Maybe I internalized that 1989 movie, Field of Dreams, a little too much. Because the truth is, you can build it, plant the seeds, water it faithfully—and still, nothing grows. Sometimes you have to ask: is this the right garden? Do I have the right seeds. Or is this one of those seasons of famine, not feast?Over the last 24 months, the stumbles in my journey have forced me to admit something, I’d rather not, that the missteps hurt. I’ve been pretending that they don’t hurt. But they do. Even when you turn the other cheek, the bruise on the other one is still there. When disappointment seeps into your bones, or you let circumstances get under your skin, or you start connecting dots---boy you begin to wonder if you’ve been blind. On those days, I ask myself: am I becoming a conspiracy theorist? Or did I just choose not to believe my own eyes?Even a calm, levelheaded woman has to acknowledge when she is hurt and angry. My logical side tells me, “It’s just business. It’s politics. It’s economics. It’s not personal.” But every time I put pen to paper, it is personal. Part of me spills onto the page. When you meet my characters, you’re also meeting pieces of me—my wounds, my fears, my hopes, even some dreams. It sounds crazy, but that’s the life of an artist.Perhaps, we are a little bit off. Who else would willingly put their words or their creations out there to be scrutinized by strangers? You might have to be a little crazy to face bloodthirsty reviews or accept the brunt of someone’s bad day, all because of something you were burning to create.To be a writer or artist requires audacity—the belief that your story is worth telling, your song is worth hearing, you canvas is worth showing off. And even the humblest creators have to admit we are audacious.Again, I say you have to be a little bit off because the road to creation is long, filled with danger, rejection, and the occasional spiral into bone crushing doubt.So to my fellow writers who hit walls—whether self-inflicted, systemic, or circumstantial—own the pain. Then release it. My art is my statement to the world. Within the pages, one can find my zeal and my anger. I own it. I Vanessa Riley get angry sometimes.I promise you that my anger is a mirror of my passion. It equates to all the research and translations and microfiche that I will search to gather fresh facts. I work hard.I don’t intend to stop. As I write this essay for my podcast, I intend to keep making art. Because I believe, that I have a message the world needs to hear.In the coming months, until Fire Sword and Sea releases, you’ll hear me talking about it, the hardest book I had to write. Yes, it’s about pirates in the Caribbean where you will have a diverse crew on the top of the boat working together, while chattel slavery exists within the bowls of the ship. So a meritocracy on top with White and Black and Brown pirates with enslaved people chained below. It’s messy. It’s complicated. It’s action filled. It’s true.I will shout it from rooftops, fight to get it attention. The story matters. Because when we hide the past, we hide ourselves. And when we hide our anger, we hide our authenticity. And the fight to make it public hasn’t been easy. It’s made me angry.It’s ok to be angry, but we can’t let anger fester. Then it turns into cynicism, inaction, and paralysis. I’m a work in progress and I’ve had to take my bottled-up feelings and release them through prayer and being able to hope for more. I gave up the noise to make room for healing.So, you’re not crazy. You are not a conspiracy theorist. You are human. You are hurting. But the world still deserves to see your art.Anger isn’t always productive. It doesn’t move the needle by itself. Acting while angry can cost you jobs, power, and peace. So yes—be angry but be wise. Be quick to release any sour heat churning in your soul. My advice is to do what must be done. Do your calling.And as for me, I’ll live to play in my art another day and I ‘ll let God fight my present day and future battles.This week’s reading list includes:The Dance of Anger by Harriet Lerner – A classic on understanding anger, especially for women, and how to use it as a tool for growth rather than destruction.Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women’s Anger by Soraya Chemaly – Examines how women’s anger has been dismissed, and why it’s actually a powerful, transformative force.Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou – Gentle but firm reflections on disappointment, resilience, and the courage to be authentic.Sister Outsider by Audre Lorde – Essays and speeches on anger, identity, and transformation through...
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    11 m
  • Who Are You Checking On

    Who Are You Checking On
    Sep 2 2025
    I spent Labor Day eve with my family. It was great catching up—finding out how everyone’s doing, whether they got the job they wanted, how things are going at work, how far they’ve come toward their goals. We talked about houses, kids, fences—life. It felt good to just soak in family.The pandemic robbed us of something priceless: time spent seeing and being part of each other’s lives. And I’ll be honest; I internalized that separation. I grew incredibly comfortable in my own home. Never leaving my zoom or desktop computer, I am happy working, wrapped up in the fantasy world of the books I write. I call myself an introverted extrovert—or maybe an extroverted introvert. Put me on a stage with a mic, and I’ll light up. I will beam with energy and exhibit such showmanship.But catch me at home with a hazelnut latte in one hand, a phone to scroll in the other, wearing my robe, bonnet, and slippers, I’m happy. And in the dead of night, I’ll find peace listening to a book or watching a cooking show. Right now, I’m get happy watching, With Love Megan. The show is warm and comfortable. Meghan is gorgeous and thoughtful. She shows us aspirational bits of the soft life, and I think we all want it. I dream of being the hostess who can make her guest feel comfortable light up with a simple gesture that shows she’s thinking about them. I love the idea of small gestures. I like the list of new foods that I’ll try to make, including slow cooker apple butter. If you know me, I am a slow cooker girl. I can do real damage with any one of the many slow cookers or crockpots I own.Back to the point. My crockpots are inside. I love to cook for people inside. Being inside, that kind of comfort is seductive. And it can trick us into forgetting that life is happening beyond the TV and Kitchen, right outside our doors. Life is out there. People are laughing, crying, hurting, losing, winning—all outside our walls. And it’s worth checking in on people in all those moments.Then Monday, I stopped by The Book Worm Bookstore in Powder Springs to check on Julia, my friend and the wonderful bookstore’s owner. She’s juggling so much right now—staff changes, city ordinances, personal losses. It felt good to laugh with her, to commiserate, to talk about challenges in the book industry and to admire the many beautiful books on the shelves. Inside her store, there’s joy and love. But outside her walls, businesses are shuttered, city plans are in flux, and simple things like parking become a battles.It reminds me that every business, every shopfront, has real people inside—living, breathing, working hard to create a life they love. They are under threat by higher costs and by the changing ways Americans work and live. Change that may have taken decades is here now. Without safety nets, folks are waking up to layoffs and losses of resources. I told you recently about AI infiltrating the family group text. Well, AI is taking entry level jobs, software programming jobs and more. In eight months things shifted, they are not going to shift back. These disruptions means, we need to check on each other more than ever.If you’re not inclined to drive to a golf course to hang out or to throw a huge dinner for folks to come and sit a spell, you can find other ways to check in. The group text is a great way. Checking in can be a morning prayer, a parable of encouragement, or even sending Instagram reels back and forth. A funny reel says, “I wanted to make you laugh today.” An encouraging one says, “You matter to me. I thought about you.” A messy one says, “I’m messy and you are too.” That doesn’t take much time—just a couple minutes—but it can mean everything.As we head toward fall, winter, and even the end of the year, I feel very reflective. And I’m not blind to the pain and uncertainty all around us. People are hurting. Some are failing. The struggle is very real. Which makes checking in even more important.I don’t want to be so busy that I forget the people around me. I don’t want to lose empathy. And yes, I still wrestle with it—for people, for systems, for situations that caused harm. On social media, I see rumors and chaos, and I understand the temptation to root for that chaos, but we need to resist. We can’t lose our humanity.We have to believe in our better angels. We must hold onto the faith that this too shall pass—whether or not we’re doomscrolling through the night. And while we wait for brighter days, we can do the simplest, most powerful thing: check in. Send the note. Make the call. Get out the house. Share a belly-rocking laugh. Love out loud.When we check on each other, we remind ourselves—and the world—that we are in this race together. And we need to pull up those close to us, so we can all win.This week, I picked a few books to help ups check in:Big Friendship: How We Keep Each Other Close by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman — This book focuses on the work...
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    11 m
  • Tainted Vision: My Daddy’s Glasses

    Tainted Vision: My Daddy’s Glasses
    Aug 26 2025
    I bought my daddy’s glasses for me. It was completely by accident. I saw a pair of rectangular frames, dark, sort of ebony for a change. The priced was just right, and the try-on feature told me they would work: the dark frames on my oval brown face.The description said lightweight with structure, but every time I looked in the mirror, I see heavy and concerned. I see my daddy staring back at me.If you’ve followed me over the years, I tend to talk about my mother because of her seismic impact on my life. She gave me my love of literature and writing. Louise was my first editor, my first winning essay was about her—the struggles of motherhood when she had to step up and lead our household after my father left.So there are reasons I don’t talk about Daddy as often. But he shaped me too, in quieter ways. My mathematical mind, my sense of logic, my ability to break down problems and even find order in chaos—that comes from him.He came to America in the 1960s, a young man with dreams and a head full of ambition. Trinidad and Tobago had just broken free from colonial Britain, declaring its independence on August 31, 1962.My father left a country in the uncertainy of self-rule and chose the land of milk and honey and bootstraps, the United States. Independence in Trinidad was marked by parades and music and celebration, but also instability and questions about what freedom would really mean. America, by comparison, was older, heavy in opportunity and structure.An immigrant from Port of Spain, Trinidad, who’d traveled widely on boats to his fellow Caribbean islands and London decided to join the American experiment. He chose to stay because he believed in the vision America was selling: if you worked hard, pulled yourself up by your bootstraps, you could find economic freedom and belong to the great melting pot.When he slipped on his black frames in the 1960s, he saw a country flawed but full of possibility. The sixties in the US marks immense change with the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. We had the Vietnam War abroad, with America as an active participant in the world, and the assassinations of JFK (1963)and Bobby Kennedy (1968) Martin Luther King Jr. (1968) and Malcolm X (1965).Yet the there was cultural freedom in arts, particularly TV.That Girl shows Marlo Thomas as an independent, single woman pursuing a career was very different from housewives and mom shows of the past.Star Trek showcased a diverse crew, to offering a unified vision of humanity.The Twilight Zone used storytelling to explore moral and political issues like McCarthyism and racial prejudice.Yet, if Patrick were alive and slipped on those glasses on today, would he even recognize this place?My lenses show armed soldiers patrolling American city streets when no war has been declared. Natural disasters made worse by climate change and inept officials unwilling to respond with humanity or clearing red tape.The sixties marked the first time TV news was the most trusted source of information. Now wars are escalated by tweets, have we have to figure out if it’s deep fakes or AI falsehoods.He’d shake his head at how rules bent and broken and cages being built to house immigrants that may someday serve as prisons for Americans.I don’t think he’d see America as the shiny city on a hill of liberty. It’s hard for me to see it.The same energy that puts weapons on the streets of D.C and Los Angeles and now threaten Chicago and other urban spots because some are confuse fighting crime that it’s the same as punishing those with differing opinions.But why can’t such marshaling of forces and money be used for places like Kerrville, Texas, where July 2025 floods left families stranded. People drowned and communities suffered while forms got shuffled and delays mounted.And then there’s the quieter violence—against books, against ideas. During National Library Week 2025, the American Library Association released data showing that the majority of book censorship attempts came from organized political movements, 72%.Imagine my father, who once saw America as a land of expanding stories, looking at a country that now bans them.I didn’t exist in the sixties. I like the way my glasses looked in 2008.I wore lenses tinted with optimism. High-tech jobs were expanding opportunities not cutting jobs. Respectability and admiration were central parts of our leadership.A man named Barack Obama had just been elected president, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like nothing was unachievable. The American narrative was open and limitless. More stories found ways to be published. Through those lenses, the future shimmered. It roared, Yes we can. Oh it was bright.I want those glasses to work again. But my prescription is what it is. The lenses are cut sharper. They see starker truths. I witness insecurity, not strength. I wish I didn’t like genocide, violence, and above all fear.My ...
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    12 m
  • Unity with the One Drop Rule

    Unity with the One Drop Rule
    Aug 19 2025
    The one-drop rule used to be the measure of Blackness in America. From the 1600s through the Jim Crow era, this rule held that any person with even “one drop” of African ancestry was considered Black, regardless of appearance.In 1662, Virginia law held that racial status and freedom were tied to the mother’s status (partus sequitur ventrem). If your mother was enslaved, you were enslaved. So if your mother was Black, so were you.Virginia—the so-called “home of lovers”—added categories like mulatto (½ Black), quadroon (¼ Black), and octoroon (⅛ Black), trying to track how many generations removed someone was from Black ancestry.By the 1800s, many states considered you Black if you had 1/8 African ancestry (one great-grandparent). Louisiana, extra as ever, defined it at 1/16 (a great-great-grandparent).After Plessy v. Ferguson (1896) upheld “separate but equal” segregation, the one-drop rule hardened. By Virginia’s Racial Integrity Act of 1924, a person with any African ancestry at all was legally Black.The hardships and limitations of the past—like redlining that dictated where Black people could live, or Jim Crow laws that dictated how we lived—are major reasons for “passing,” hiding ancestry, and pretending to belong to the majority culture.Yet Black history in the United States is a story of resilience, brilliance, and immeasurable contributions to the nation’s progress.It is a history rich in invention—from Garrett Morgan’s traffic signal to Madam C. J. Walker’s beauty empire, George Washington Carver’s agricultural breakthroughs, and countless modern innovations in technology, medicine, and engineering. Gladys Mae West’s satellite math laid the foundation for GPS technology.Our history is steeped in science and scholarship—with pioneers like Dr. Charles Drew revolutionizing blood banking, Katherine Johnson calculating the trajectories to send and return astronauts from space, and Neil deGrasse Tyson expanding our imagination of the cosmos.Our history is one of wealth and entrepreneurship—from Newport’s Black Gilded Age to Black Wall Street in Tulsa, to contemporary business leaders who redefine prosperity against the odds.And don’t get me started on how Black artists have transformed music. Our fingerprints are on jazz, country, gospel, blues, and hip-hop.While we’re talking about music, let’s talk Tyla. Her meteoric rise with “Water” made her a global star, gaining awards and even a spot at the Met Gala. But because her next release didn’t match that first explosion, she was quickly branded a flop. Some say she was the first casualty of the diaspora wars. Folks took issue with a few odd interviews and typed up posts calling Tyla a flop because they thought she disrespected Black America.That’s unfair. Tyla needs time to grow and create her unique, lasting sound. Queen Rihanna herself needed a couple of years before Good Girl Gone Bad cemented her superstardom. Every artist must be given space to grow, to excavate, to find their voice.The same is true for writers. How many of us dreaded our sophomore novels? Like sophomore albums, sophomore books are hard. Lasting careers aren’t built in one viral moment, but through many seasons of growth and resilience.So I find it curious that social media insists the Diaspora Wars are here. That algorithms push the idea that Foundational Black Americans—descendants of U.S. chattel slavery—are beefing with people from the Caribbean and Africa.Immigrants arrive and celebrate their success. That success shouldn’t be held against proud Americans whose families endured slavery, Jim Crow, and every broken promise to Black people in America. For the record: we have no 40 acres, no mule, and often no bootstraps.Confession: I know I’m supposed to be off Twitter, but it’s got the international feeds and the mess. I’m addicted to both. Where else am I going to learn about the jollof wars that went down because of Essence tweets? My first question was: who made the jollof?* Nigeria? Tomato-forward, spicy, smoky rice.* Ghana? Refined, lighter, aromatic rice.* Senegal? The OGs—the originators. Rice cooked in fish stock and local spices like tamarind.* Liberia? Hearty, deeply spiced rice with a splash of coconut milk.* Trinidad and Jamaica? Our rice is “rice and peas,” made with coconut milk and Caribbean curry.Yet none of this goodness replaces baked mac & cheese for me. I believe all the tastiest foods and best chefs need to get along.So why do we let petty divisions cloud the truth? Whether it’s an online squabble about food—mac & cheese versus jollof rice—or disagreements about Essence Festival, publishing models, or TikTok virality, the danger is the same: distraction from unity.This is why I return to the idea of the one-drop rule. Historically, it was a weapon—to exclude, stigmatize, and define Blackness through the gaze of white supremacy. But we can reclaim it as a tool of ...
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