June 3, 2025 • 9 mins
Have you ever not known how empty you were—until a weekend of feasting showed you just how hungry you really are?That was me, this weekend. I spent it in the company of 1,500 readers and fellow authors at the Black Romance Book Fest, and I left with my heart and spirit overflowing. Now, you might say, “Vanessa, I get your newsletter. I follow you on Instagram and Threads. I see the pictures. You go to a lot of events.” And yes, that’s true. I do. I’m the type who soaks everything in—the people, the place, the energy, the reason we gather.But this? This was different.When you're marginalized, stepping into spaces where you're one of only a handful can be daunting. I still remember sitting in a ballroom at an RWA conference, surrounded by people who wouldn’t meet my gaze—blue eyes turning away, avoiding eye contact as though acknowledgment might cost them something. In those moments, I’ve wished for a sign that read: Conversation is free. I don’t bite.And then back in my hotel room, I’d recite poet Gwendolyn Brooks’s work, To Black Women. She begins with:“Sisters,where there is cold silenceno hallelujahs, no hurrahs at all, no handshakes,no neon red or blue, no smiling faces prevail.”It’s as if Gwendolyn herself had walked the conference floors with me. You learn to prepare yourself, to build armor against the lack of hurrahs, the absence of handshakes. You remind yourself that rejection isn’t always personal—people read what they relate to. Unless they choose to diversify, most gravitate toward characters who look like them or have shared lived experience. Unless, of course, if we're talking werewolves or vampires—those stories get an all-access pass, while Black, brown, or queer stories are often left outside the gates.And then there was this weekend.At Black Romance Book Fest, no one turned away. People smiled. They hugged. They talked to everyone.You heard Nice boots, cute T-shirt, Girl!!! those nails, and cool—a pirate costume, etc.The halls were crowded with people, laughter, and cheer. Hallelujahs rang out online buddies met in real life. Hurrahs echoed down halls. It was a beautiful thing—to feel welcomed and seen in a space filled with so many faces who wanted to get you. There was a collective joy, an ease in being present, that’s hard to put into words, but you feel it. It vibrates across your skin and sinks into your soul.The breadth of representation moved me. Every genre and subgenre had a seat at the table—fantasy, paranormal, historical, contemporary, romantic suspense. I remember chatting with a fantasy author who was stunned, and delighted, to see how many Black readers were there for fantasy and speculative fiction. No genre was out of bounds. Everything—every moment—felt welcoming and grounded in sisterhood and solidarity.Of course, no event with 1,500 people and limited elevators can escape a little drama. But that’s every conference. I’ve experienced worse. I remember once, dressed in full Regency garb for a costume party, being stopped at the door because someone assumed—that I was in the wrong place. Apparently, I didn’t look like the kind of person who belonged in a Regency gown. That’s the kind of foolishness many of us with Black faces in literary spaces are familiar with. And unfortunately, it still happens, it just looks different—lack of support, lack of proper editing and marketing. Or simply turning the other way at a book signing. But that’s why I pour so deeply into my people, if you’ve made it this far, you are my people, but I especially want to bless the Black sisters who’ve supported me across every step of my career.They honor that I write something different. They honor everyone who does. They uplift the wide spectrum of Black storytelling—because at the core of it all is love: love of beauty, love of self, love of each other. And that love creates room for fantasy, horror, sci-fi, thrillers, historicals—genres long denied to us but reclaimed through our voices, our pens, and our varying visions.Gwendolyn Brooks ends her poem with these lines of quiet hope:“But there remain large countries in your eyes.Shrewd sun.The civil balance.The listening secrets.And you create and train your flowers still.”This weekend helped me remember my own gardens. That I can conquer large territories or conferences. Black Romance Book Fest refreshed my soul. It restored my balance. It reminded me that I’m still called to create and train my flowers. That even in the face of rejection or erasure, there are places for my stories—and yours.To my fellow authors: you’re not crazy. Your readers are out there. They are waiting, hungry for what only you can bring. And they’ll be (mostly) patient while you take the time you need to grow and train your flowers.Because they believe in the bloom that’s coming. And so do I.Books to help us to grow and train our minds are:To Black Women by Gwendolyn Brooks, it can be found in the public domain, but.css-j9qmi7{display:-webkit-box;display:-webkit-flex;display:-ms-flexbox;display:flex;-webkit-flex-direction:row;-ms-flex-direction:row;flex-direction:row;font-weight:700;margin-bottom:1rem;margin-top:2.8rem;width:100%;-webkit-box-pack:start;-ms-flex-pack:start;-webkit-justify-content:start;justify-content:start;padding-left:5rem;}@media only screen and (max-width: 599px){.css-j9qmi7{padding-left:0;-webkit-box-pack:center;-ms-flex-pack:center;-webkit-justify-content:center;justify-content:center;}}.css-j9qmi7 svg{fill:#27292D;}.css-j9qmi7 .eagfbvw0{-webkit-align-items:center;-webkit-box-align:center;-ms-flex-align:center;align-items:center;color:#27292D;}
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:06):
Welcome to the Rite of Passage with Vanessa Riley, the
podcast where storytelling meets passion in every page turns into
a new adventure. I'm your host, Vanessa Riley, and together
we'll dive deep into untold histories, reflect on current events
through a historical lands, share behind the scenes writing insights,
(00:29):
and explore the ups and downs of the author's journey
from rich historical novels to unforgettable characters to pop culture's
intrusion on the written word. Hey, we're going to explore
it all. So grab your pen, your notebook, and let's
begin our journey through the written word. Let's start your
(00:54):
Right of passage. Fellowship and flowers. A weekend that filled myself.
Have you ever not known how empty you were until
a weekend of feasting showed you just how hungry you
really are? Well that was me this weekend. I spent
(01:15):
it in the company of fifteen hundred readers and fellow
authors at the Black Romance Book Fest, and I left
with my heart and spirit overflowing. Now, you might say, Vanessa,
I get your newsletter, I follow you on Instagram and threads.
I see the pictures. You go to a lot of
events and yes, that's true. I do. I'm the type
(01:41):
who soaks everything in the people, the place, the energy,
the reason we gather. But this was different. When you're marginalized,
Stepping into spaces where you're one of only a handful
can be daunting. I still remember remember sitting in a
(02:01):
ballroom at an RWA conference, surrounded by people who wouldn't
meet my gaze, blue eyes, turning away, avoiding eye contact,
as though acknowledgment might cost them something. In those moments,
I wished for a sign that read conversation is free,
(02:24):
I don't bite. And then back in my hotel room,
I'd recite poet gwendolen Brooks work to Black women. She
begins with sisters, where there is cold silence, no hallelujahs,
no hurrahs at all, no handshake, no neon red or blue,
(02:49):
no smiling faces prevail. It's as if Gwyendolen herself had
walked the conference floors with me. You learned to compare yourself,
to build armor against the lack of a raws, the
absence of handshakes. You remind yourself that rejection isn't always personal.
(03:10):
People read what they relate to unless they choose to diversify.
Most gravitate toward characters who look like them or who
have shared lived experiences, unless, of course, we're talking about
werewolves or vampires. Those stories get an all access pass,
(03:32):
while brown, black, or queer stories were often left outside
the gates. And then there was this weekend at the
black romance book fence. No one turned away. People smiled,
they hugged, they talked to everyone. You heard nice boots,
(03:52):
cute T shirt girl, those nails and a cool a
pirate costume, et cetera. The halls were crowded with people,
laughter and cheer. Hallelujahs rang out online, buddies met in
real life. Hurrahs echoed down halls. It was a beautiful
(04:14):
thing to feel welcomed and seen in a space filled
with so many faces who wanted to get you. There
was a collective joy and ease in being present that's
hard to put into words, but you feel it. It
vibrates across your skin and sinks into your soul. The
(04:35):
breath of representation moved me. Every genre and subgenre had
a seat at the table. Fantasy, paranormal, historical, contemporary, romantic, suspense.
I remember chatting with a fantasy author who was stunned
and delighted to see how many black readers were there
(04:56):
for fantasy and speculative fiction. No genre was out of bounds. Everything,
every moment felt welcoming and grounded in sisterhood and solidarity.
Of course, no event with fifteen hundred people and limited
elevators can't escape a little drama. But that's every conference
(05:21):
I've experienced worse. I remember once dressed in full regency
garb for a costume party, being stopped at the door
because someone assumed that I was in the wrong place.
Apparently I didn't look like the kind of person who
belonged in a regency gown. That kind of foolishness many
(05:44):
of us with black faces and literary spaces are familiar with,
and unfortunately it still happens. It just looks different. Lack
of support, lack of proper editing and marketing, or simply
turning the other way at a book signing. But that's
why I pour so deeply into my people. If you've
(06:09):
made it this far, you are my people. But I
especially want to bless the black sisters who supported me
across every step of my career. They honor that I
write something different. They honor every one who does. They
uplift the wide spectrum of black story telling because at
(06:31):
the core of it, it is all love, love of beauty,
love of self, love of each other. And that love
creates room for fantasy, horror, sci fi, thrillers, historicals, genres
long denied us, but reclaimed through our voices, our pens,
and our varying visions. Gwendolyn Brooks ends her poem with
(06:57):
these lines of quiet hope. But there remain large countries
in your eyes, shrewd sun, the civil balance, the listening secrets,
and you create and train your flowers. Still this week
can help me remember my own gardens, that I can
(07:20):
conquer large territories or conferences. Black romance book fests refreshed
my soul. It restored my balance, reminded me that I'm
still called to create and train my flowers, that even
in the face of rejection or erasure, there are places
(07:41):
for my stories and yours. To my fellow authors, you're
not crazy. Your readers are out there. They are waiting,
hungry for what you can bring, and they'll be mostly
patient while you're taking the time you need to grow
and train your flowers, because they believe in the bloom
(08:05):
that's coming, and so do I. Books to help us
grow and train our minds are to Black Women by
Gwyndolen Brooks. It can be found in the public domain,
but A Street in Bronzeville, also by Gwyndoln Brooks, is available.
(08:26):
It's her debut collection. It's It features poems of everyday
life with dignity, tenderness, and piercing realism. For read Caribbean month,
I recommend How to Say Babylon by Sophia Sinclair. It's
(08:47):
a searing memoir about a Rostafarian girl finding her voice
against a backdrop of patriarchy. And Lastly, I am asking
for your support for Fire, Sword and Sea. Spread the
word and pre order this disruptive narrative about female pirates
in the sixteen hundreds. This sweeping narrative releases January thirteenth,
(09:12):
twenty twenty six. Show notes include a list of books
mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I'm highlighting Joe Beth.
Booksellers do their website and bookshop dot org. You can
find my notes on substack or on my website, Vanessailly
dot com under the podcast link in the about tab.
(09:34):
If you believe like me that stories matter. Please like,
share and hit subscribe to write a passage thank you
for listening. Hopefully you'll come again. This is Vanessa Riley
Welcome to the Rite of Passage with Vanessa Riley, the
podcast where storytelling meets passion in every page turns into
a new adventure. I'm your host, Vanessa Riley, and together
we'll dive deep into untold histories, reflect on current events
through a historical lands, share behind the scenes writing insights,
(00:29):
and explore the ups and downs of the author's journey
from rich historical novels to unforgettable characters to pop culture's
intrusion on the written word. Hey, we're going to explore
it all. So grab your pen, your notebook, and let's
begin our journey through the written word. Let's start your
(00:54):
Right of passage. Fellowship and flowers. A weekend that filled myself.
Have you ever not known how empty you were until
a weekend of feasting showed you just how hungry you
really are? Well that was me this weekend. I spent
(01:15):
it in the company of fifteen hundred readers and fellow
authors at the Black Romance Book Fest, and I left
with my heart and spirit overflowing. Now, you might say, Vanessa,
I get your newsletter, I follow you on Instagram and threads.
I see the pictures. You go to a lot of
events and yes, that's true. I do. I'm the type
(01:41):
who soaks everything in the people, the place, the energy,
the reason we gather. But this was different. When you're marginalized,
Stepping into spaces where you're one of only a handful
can be daunting. I still remember remember sitting in a
(02:01):
ballroom at an RWA conference, surrounded by people who wouldn't
meet my gaze, blue eyes, turning away, avoiding eye contact,
as though acknowledgment might cost them something. In those moments,
I wished for a sign that read conversation is free,
(02:24):
I don't bite. And then back in my hotel room,
I'd recite poet gwendolen Brooks work to Black women. She
begins with sisters, where there is cold silence, no hallelujahs,
no hurrahs at all, no handshake, no neon red or blue,
(02:49):
no smiling faces prevail. It's as if Gwyendolen herself had
walked the conference floors with me. You learned to compare yourself,
to build armor against the lack of a raws, the
absence of handshakes. You remind yourself that rejection isn't always personal.
(03:10):
People read what they relate to unless they choose to diversify.
Most gravitate toward characters who look like them or who
have shared lived experiences, unless, of course, we're talking about
werewolves or vampires. Those stories get an all access pass,
(03:32):
while brown, black, or queer stories were often left outside
the gates. And then there was this weekend at the
black romance book fence. No one turned away. People smiled,
they hugged, they talked to everyone. You heard nice boots,
(03:52):
cute T shirt girl, those nails and a cool a
pirate costume, et cetera. The halls were crowded with people,
laughter and cheer. Hallelujahs rang out online, buddies met in
real life. Hurrahs echoed down halls. It was a beautiful
(04:14):
thing to feel welcomed and seen in a space filled
with so many faces who wanted to get you. There
was a collective joy and ease in being present that's
hard to put into words, but you feel it. It
vibrates across your skin and sinks into your soul. The
(04:35):
breath of representation moved me. Every genre and subgenre had
a seat at the table. Fantasy, paranormal, historical, contemporary, romantic, suspense.
I remember chatting with a fantasy author who was stunned
and delighted to see how many black readers were there
(04:56):
for fantasy and speculative fiction. No genre was out of bounds. Everything,
every moment felt welcoming and grounded in sisterhood and solidarity.
Of course, no event with fifteen hundred people and limited
elevators can't escape a little drama. But that's every conference
(05:21):
I've experienced worse. I remember once dressed in full regency
garb for a costume party, being stopped at the door
because someone assumed that I was in the wrong place.
Apparently I didn't look like the kind of person who
belonged in a regency gown. That kind of foolishness many
(05:44):
of us with black faces and literary spaces are familiar with,
and unfortunately it still happens. It just looks different. Lack
of support, lack of proper editing and marketing, or simply
turning the other way at a book signing. But that's
why I pour so deeply into my people. If you've
(06:09):
made it this far, you are my people. But I
especially want to bless the black sisters who supported me
across every step of my career. They honor that I
write something different. They honor every one who does. They
uplift the wide spectrum of black story telling because at
(06:31):
the core of it, it is all love, love of beauty,
love of self, love of each other. And that love
creates room for fantasy, horror, sci fi, thrillers, historicals, genres
long denied us, but reclaimed through our voices, our pens,
and our varying visions. Gwendolyn Brooks ends her poem with
(06:57):
these lines of quiet hope. But there remain large countries
in your eyes, shrewd sun, the civil balance, the listening secrets,
and you create and train your flowers. Still this week
can help me remember my own gardens, that I can
(07:20):
conquer large territories or conferences. Black romance book fests refreshed
my soul. It restored my balance, reminded me that I'm
still called to create and train my flowers, that even
in the face of rejection or erasure, there are places
(07:41):
for my stories and yours. To my fellow authors, you're
not crazy. Your readers are out there. They are waiting,
hungry for what you can bring, and they'll be mostly
patient while you're taking the time you need to grow
and train your flowers, because they believe in the bloom
(08:05):
that's coming, and so do I. Books to help us
grow and train our minds are to Black Women by
Gwyndolen Brooks. It can be found in the public domain,
but A Street in Bronzeville, also by Gwyndoln Brooks, is available.
(08:26):
It's her debut collection. It's It features poems of everyday
life with dignity, tenderness, and piercing realism. For read Caribbean month,
I recommend How to Say Babylon by Sophia Sinclair. It's
(08:47):
a searing memoir about a Rostafarian girl finding her voice
against a backdrop of patriarchy. And Lastly, I am asking
for your support for Fire, Sword and Sea. Spread the
word and pre order this disruptive narrative about female pirates
in the sixteen hundreds. This sweeping narrative releases January thirteenth,
(09:12):
twenty twenty six. Show notes include a list of books
mentioned in this broadcast. This week, I'm highlighting Joe Beth.
Booksellers do their website and bookshop dot org. You can
find my notes on substack or on my website, Vanessailly
dot com under the podcast link in the about tab.
(09:34):
If you believe like me that stories matter. Please like,
share and hit subscribe to write a passage thank you
for listening. Hopefully you'll come again. This is Vanessa Riley
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