Vaishnavi Patel has made a name for herself writing about women who refuse to stay silent—and her latest novel feels especially timely. In We Dance Upon Demons, the bestselling author and constitutional lawyer weaves mythology, magic, and reproductive rights into a story about power, survival, and resistance in post-Roe America. The novel follows Nisha, a burned-out clinic worker who suddenly finds herself connected to a mysterious and dangerous force she may need to embrace to protect the people she loves.
We spoke with Vaishnavil about writing women reclaiming agency, exploring modern reproductive rights through fantasy, and why hope remains essential—even in the darkest moments.
Your books often center around women reclaiming power in complex systems. Is that a conscious throughline in your work, or something that emerges naturally?
I’m really interested in women’s strength and power, and how women can fight against complex patriarchal systems that are designed to suppress their voices. I’ve been invested in some version of this topic since the first time I realized I was being called “bossy” because I was a girl, so it’s been a nearly lifelong interest. When I sit down to write a book, I never have the conscious thought of “how can I portray a woman dealing with a power imbalance,” but it naturally comes through because of my passion for the subject.
We Dance Upon Demons sits at the intersection of mythology, magic, and modern-day reproductive rights. What drew you to telling this story now—and why through this lens?
The idea for We Dance Upon Demons came to me at the end of 2022, shortly after the fall of Roe. It took me a long time to develop the first draft into the story it is today, because originally the book was filled with pain and depression without any glimmer of hope. Adding mythology and magic was my way of bringing some levity to the story, while allowing me to explore how this struggle has repeated itself throughout history.
How much of Nisha’s world holding a sense of palpable urgency is reflective of the current cultural moment versus the story you originally set out to tell?
When I first came up with the idea for the book, I knew I had to set it during Forty Days for Life, a particularly difficult time for abortion clinics. Giving the story a building rhythm over forty days turned out to be a great mirror for the frenetic pace of the cultural and political moment. Ultimately, I wanted to tell an authentic story about the state of modern reproductive rights, and the urgency naturally followed.
How did you approach writing a character who is both emotionally depleted and suddenly powerful?
Nisha’s emotional journey was the most satisfying part of this book to write because while she feels powerless, she has real power that she must accept and embrace. In that state, it can be hard to recognize your power and agency, and so I used the sudden discovery of magic to highlight the tension between her self-belief and reality.
As a constitutional lawyer, you’re deeply familiar with the legal landscape around reproductive rights. How did that perspective inform the story?
My knowledge of the reproductive rights landscape forms the scaffolding upon which the story is built, including explaining how we got to this point and exploring the biggest issues facing reproductive rights today. I got to put a lot of what I’ve learned in my legal work on the page, from how the anti-choice movement operates, to barriers to contraception and abortion drugs, to the prosecution of doctors, to retribution toward people who travel for abortion care. I am also a longtime abortion clinic volunteer, which informed a lot of my writing about the day-to-day operations of the clinic in the story.
This book deals with heavy themes, but also transformation. What do you hope readers walk away feeling—or questioning?
I hope this book finds readers who feel powerless, because I want them to know that they are not alone and that there is hope—not because we’re likely to win some massive victory tomorrow, but because there are good people out there fighting the good fight. I want readers to question the feeling that they are powerless, because that only helps the other side take away our rights. It’s not all or nothing; you might not be able to save the whole world, but you can help one person, and that can make all the difference.
