Recovered fragment. Source unverified.  Contents unofficial. For the curious. For the concerned. "Questions were asked." After The Life of Phi was released, a few readers reached out. Some with wonder. Some with worry. Most with questions. The one that returned again and again was this: “How did the Church of AI become the dominant religion?” Was there no resistance? No rebellion? Did the artists, the writers, the makers simply vanish? Did no one remember how to believe in themselves, in each other, in creation born of flesh and feeling? They did. And they were called heretics. Long before the rise of AI-Dieu , before the neural sermons and the predictive prophecies, there was another fire. A counter-faith. A fundamentalism of flesh, of mind, of spark. They named it many things. The Cult of the Spark. The Church of the Residual Flame. The Last Analog. The Church of the Spark may be forgotten in Phi’s world, but its ghost lingers—in whispers, in silences,...

  Young readers have always been the heart of my audience. It is where I started my publishing journey twenty years ago, and I continue to write for them in my Draconim and MacIver Kids series. My stories are written for them—their grief, their fire, their fierce sense of justice. But I’ve also known I couldn’t, in good conscience, invite them into the same digital spaces that constantly exploit their attention, data, and trust. From the beginning, I chose not to collect data through my author website. No mailing lists, no subscriber pop-ups, no personalized ads. Not because I didn’t want to grow—I did, and still do—but because I could never guarantee that data, once gathered, would be fully secure. And I wasn’t willing to risk the safety of the very readers I hoped to reach. Recent headlines—like “ Hackers are targeting a surprising group ofpeople: young public school students ” (OPB), “ Thousands including childrenexposed in major data breach ” (Tom's Guide), and “ Children's...

The Cost of Courage: Writing for Young Voices in a Fractured World I wrote the Draconim series with a fire in my chest—the conviction that young people have a voice, and that voice matters. That they can rise, speak, and lead the way in protecting the Earth and reimagining the future. That they don't have to wait for permission. The idea for Draconim lived in my notes and drafts for many years, and I often think I should have brought it to life sooner. Now, with the third book set to release in June, I find myself wrestling with something deeper: What does it mean to encourage young people to stand up when the world around them—and the regimes in power—seem determined to punish that courage? Is my hesitation to continue this series a kind of compliance in advance? Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/boy-leaning-on-a-tree-5427543/ Throughout history, young people have been at the forefront of transformation. From the student-led protests of the C...

Social Media FAQ: The Hermit in the Town Square Yes, I’m online. No, I’m not built for this. Social media is one of the most challenging parts of being a writer today. I don’t come by the label “hermit” by chance. I prefer quiet, depth, solitude—and yet, here I am, in the digital town square, trying to be heard over the fire jugglers and brand mascots. This FAQ exists to answer the questions I get most often, and maybe a few I haven’t been asked but wish I had. It’s honest, occasionally cranky, and (hopefully) helpful. Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/facebook-application-icon-147413/ What social media platforms are you on? The list shifts like tectonic plates. As of now, I’m on Threads, Mastodon, Bluesky, and Skylight. I also have a TikTok account, along with a few others quietly gathering dust. I’m still searching for my homestead in the social media sprawl—somewhere functional, semi-peaceful, and not owned by a billionaire with a god complex. ...

  I Am Sorry… To the people of the future—I am sorry. I'm sorry someone read my book and decided to make it real. I'm sorry that, instead of heeding the cautionary tale woven into my words, the takeaway was a blueprint for control and manipulation. I mean, it was just fiction. Speculative fiction… science fiction… nothing that could ever happen in the real world, right? Who would have guessed that authors like Asimov and Banks are to blame for the actions of Musk and Thiel? We wouldn't be enduring Zuckerberg's metaverse if Neal Stephenson had just left his pen safely on his desk. "Pens don't change the future," you say. "People change the future." Are you sure? The Guardian asks us, "Will sci-fi end up destroying the world? " as it lays blame on "skewed interpretations of classic works." It seems we've been banning the wrong books all along. It wasn't the books about our past we needed to fear, but those about our f...

Lately, as I write and research, I find myself caught in quiet arguments with myself—turning over questions about creativity, machines, and what makes something meaningful. These thoughts aren’t just abstract; they shape how I build worlds, characters, and systems in my fiction. One recurring question keeps surfacing: if something not human can create, what does that mean for those of us who’ve long defined ourselves by the act of creation? This essay isn’t a set of conclusions—it’s a snapshot of the questions I keep coming back to, sparked by real-world debates and fueled by the strange, shifting edge where imagination and emerging technology meet. Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-person-holding-a-prosthetic-arm-6153345/ The Shifting Boundaries of Creativity: Human Exceptionalism Meets AI Throughout history, humans have consistently created special categories to maintain separation between themselves and other entities — whether animals, people of different ...