359: Family Stories to Fiction | Azul Terronez & Steve Vannoy

The Journey of Creating Adventures in Cinder Bottom with Azul & Steve

When the world slowed during the pandemic, Steve Vannoy and I found an unexpected gift in that stillness. We began recording stories from his father, Smokey Vannoy—vivid tales of a bygone West Virginia filled with cinder-bottom towns, red-light districts, and river adventures. What started as a collection of oral history soon grew into something more—a shared book project, born from legacy and love.

Adventures in Cinder Bottom became more than a family story. It turned into a vibrant retelling of time, place, and identity. In this episode of Authors Who Lead, as we reflect on our second book, Greenbrier River, we weren’t just navigating the usual creative hurdles of fiction—we were also carrying the weight of loss. Smokey passed away during the writing process, and that grief wove itself into every chapter. What makes these stories resonate is that they’re rooted in real people, real places, and a real desire to honor someone we both deeply admired.

Grief and Growth in the Writing Process

For Steve, writing was both cathartic and heartbreaking. His father wasn’t just a subject; he was the muse. I’ll never forget when he told us, “Tell those boys to keep writing those books.” That one line became a guiding star. Smokey only got to read half of Greenbrier River before he passed, and that bittersweet fact gave our work even deeper meaning. What had started as a creative process transformed into a powerful act of remembrance.

For me, continuing to write became a way to stay connected—not just to Smokey’s memory but also to Steve and the heart of the project. We edited together, revisited characters, and found joy through grief. In the end, it wasn’t just about finishing a novel—it was about reinforcing a bond between father and sons, between co-authors, and across generations.

Centering Compassion: A Deeper Kind of Storytelling

One theme kept surfacing throughout our work: compassion. The characters—Smokey and his best friend DeWitt—aren’t just placeholders for adventure; they reflect deeper struggles, emotional resilience, and the human need to connect. Greenbrier River may have scenes of fishing and escapades, but underneath it all, it asks us to reflect on who we are and what truly matters.

As someone who didn’t grow up in Appalachia, I was mindful about how we represented the region. I didn’t want to rely on stereotypes or exaggerated dialects. Instead, I focused on authenticity—showing real people with dignity and complexity. Steve, being from West Virginia, felt this deeply too. He shared how often Appalachia is misunderstood, even mocked. Together, we committed to honoring the truth of the place and its people.

Creativity as a Lifeline

Writing this series wasn’t easy. There were moments we doubted ourselves, felt the sting of imposter syndrome, and struggled with how to promote something so personal in an often loud, crowded world. Steve spoke about how strange it felt to celebrate our work while still mourning. And for me, writing became a way to process everything. As I’ve said before: let creativity be your respite from the hard things.

The Greenbrier River itself became a metaphor. It’s always moving forward, unpredictable but alive. Writing this book felt a lot like being on that river—navigating turns we couldn’t foresee, trusting the flow even when we couldn’t see where it would take us.

Finishing the Work, Even When It’s Hard

Our biggest hope is that these stories reach the people who need them. We want to encourage others to write—without waiting for the perfect time or perfect draft. Your stories matter. Whether it’s a family legacy, a fictional tale, or a quiet truth that’s ready to be spoken—start writing. Start now.

As we’ve learned, it’s easy to begin something. The real challenge is finishing. And finishing, especially in the face of grief or doubt, is its own kind of legacy.

Write Anyway

Adventures in Cinder Bottom is more than a novel series. It’s a reminder that writing can heal, connect, and honor. This journey with Steve has reminded me that stories are bridges—between generations, between people, and between what we’ve lived and what we hope to leave behind.

So write anyway. Because someone out there is waiting to read exactly what you have to say.

Join us again next week for more captivating insights from influential authors and publishing experts. Remember to subscribe to Authors Who Lead and visit our website for more show notes and past interviews.

That’s all for this week. If you have a message inside of you that needs to be written, today is the day to start. Don’t delay—take action.