In this interview, we discuss guilt, classical virtues, moral choice, cultural collapse, extremism, literature, community, apocalypse, grief, survival, personal reinvention, and why imagining different ways of living might be the first step toward creating them.

The author:

Cyberwyrd grew up in a logging camp on Vancouver Island and has lived in British Columbia her entire life. She is a throwaway child, an old hippie, a fibre artist, a retired bookseller and typesetter, and claims to be twenty-nine years old, despite having been born in 1947. She explains the discrepancy by saying that she has been born again multiple times; as a radical environmentalist, as a business operator, as a social democrat, and as a community-development theorist, that last one with papers to prove it. Beyond everything else, she is a survivor.

Questions are as follows:

Thanks for doing this interview, Cyberwyrd.

I really enjoyed reading your work. What struck me most was the way you explored guilt—not as a fleeting emotion, but as something capable of quietly shaping an entire life. The opening chapter hinges on a single moment of hesitation, yet the emotional consequences ripple outward for decades. Where exactly does your interest in that kind of moral weight come from?

Before I could even speak I understood that I was an embarrassing disappointment. I was a sickly, socially awkward, fearful child who couldn’t manage to stop biting my fingernails, picking my nose and talking to myself—self-soothing, as it’s called nowadays. I felt that I had to justify my existence but without any kind of guiding principle, other than the need for recognition and approval from someone, anyone, it was all improvisational, all the time.

After the tragic death of one of my children, I went back to university, studying philosophy, to find a reason to stay alive, and community economic development, to satisfy SFU’s policy that students must be enrolled in a specific degree program. The two combined unexpectedly; philosophy leading me to challenge the prevailing discourse in community development, and community development fieldwork making me test philosophy in real world practice. I’d always assumed that respect, responsibility, integrity, and humility were performative virtue-signalling for social appproval, because that was how people around me viewed them, while saying that the law of the jungle was how things really worked. Now I had to embrace these classical virtues to interview human research subjects, or else they wouldn’t talk to me—and doing so liberated and empowered ME. All of a sudden I had confidence and certainty; I trusted my own judgement. It’s still a work in progress, but the discovery turned my world upside down.

And what draws you to stories where seemingly small decisions end up changing everything?

The seemingly small decisions are a kind of Chekhov’s gun that indicate a character change. If a character changes, so will his or her actions going forward.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction?

Knowing how different my life could have been if the surrounding culture had taught me what I had to stumble upon by accident, I now use fiction to speculate on possible responses to its disintegration. With the operative word being speculate; I make no claim to definitive answers.

What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

I want the reader to see the wealth of potential responses to whatever situation he or she confronts. I want to awaken them to the possibilities, including ones that they themselves might create. There is a whole spectrum beyond the tropes to which the cultural-industrial complex is herding us. Ideally I want to inspire a throng of competitors working the same territory and introducing readers to its expanse.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

Mary Renault, first and foremost. I used to re-read The King Must Die annually. I’m in awe of how she uses minimal words, the exactly appropriate ones, to pack the maximum of emotion or significance into a scene.

Further, William Faulkner, because of the way he acknowledges, without surrendering to it, how much need, pain and loss influence us.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

It seems to be in stasis. The last sort-of literary book I read was The Clarion by Nina Dunic, which exemplifies the current literary landscape; dutifully plowing through a realization that nothing is satisfying or compelling, with no one yet capable of imagining a different possibility. The most genuine creative activity appears at the edges, where literature straddles the boundary to genre fiction: LeCarré, Douglas Adams, Daniel Keyes and Cixin Liu.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

We are approaching an event of the kind that led to the outbreak of the Thirty Years War, with fundamentally differing concepts of how and why to live, and no channels for dialogue that might resolve the difference. That’s the premise for my current speculative WIP: a group of alienated, directionless people drifting into extremism as a way to fill the emptiness in their lives.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

Some kind of apocalypse is barreling down on us, whether war, climate collapse, or corporate-driven AI. I hope that the various forces converge to destroy each other and leave enough of the biosphere intact for life to continue, with lessons learned.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

The twentieth anniversary celebration (2019) of the community safety association instigated by my community development thesis.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

Finding that my youngest child had accidentally hung himself, practicing auto-erotic asphyxia. I learned 1) that my surviving sons had more courage and grace than I thought any human could have. 2) that the way to survive unimaginable tragedy is to challenge oneself to grow, and 3) that sharing one’s tragedies with others gives them permission to share theirs, and heals both of you.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

The Data Raiders is the first of a planned quartet, so I have to crack on with the job. I’m already an old-age pensioner…I can’t count on there being that much ‘rest of it.’

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

This one: The Black Hole that will Devour America.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Join me. Think about how you want your life or the world to be different and better, start thinking about how it could happen and start writing.

If Cyberwrd’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to her Substack and do go check out “The Black Hole that will Devour America”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Cyberwrd’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Cyberwrd a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss poetry, the Romantics, poetic monoliths, revolution, industrialisation, AI, political unrest, empathy, Sylvia Plath, Lord Byron, Wordsworth, the revival of metered verse, and why poetry still has the power to change minds.

The poet:

Aria Ligi is an award-winning neo-classical poet and longtime equal-rights advocate whose work merges historical depth with lyrical fire. Her verse has appeared in journals, anthologies, and across international publications. The Romantic Series is her magnum opus—a modern poetic odyssey that reclaims the classical voice in service of contemporary truth. She served as the Senior Poetry Editor for New Poetry Magazine (2013-2015) Poetry Editor for October Hill from 2018 to 2020, and from 2019-2020, the Arts Director at SHE THE MAGAZINE. She is the author of Blood, Bone, and Stone, Temple of Love, Poems for Marie Antoinette, the Pushcart-nominated Hammer of God, which received numerous accolades on Goodreads and Amazon, and volume one of the Romantic Series Hymn to Equity, poems for William Wordsworth, 2025, published through 0-0-8 Studios. Explore her work at arialigi.com.

Thanks for doing this interview, Aria.

I really enjoyed reading your poetry. Each piece used the same unique style, which you described as “poetic monolith”. Could you explain briefly what that term means?

Hi Tiberius, thank you for inviting me! A poetic monolith is usually a single poem put forth in one block; however, perhaps the more correct way to talk about what I consider a poetic monolith, not Google’s AI definition, is as a memoir in verse about a single person, or persons. One can also refer to this as a memoir in verse.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your poetry? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Ah, thank you so much for this question! The goal of everything I write is to benefit humanity by creating poetic bonds with figures from the past, the times they lived in, and their personal struggles and triumphs.

Poetry offers the reader a unique opportunity, and this is especially so with rhymed work, which, if written well, leaves an echo inside the reader (think of an earworm) wherein the lines stay with the reader long after they have finished the work. It is through that magic, if you will, that we can connect with others, and what arises flowers into a lovely bloom- that flowering seed, the work, fosters empathy, because the reader identifies with the work, in meaningful ways which reflect what they have experienced in their own lives.

If you think about what we are currently living through, and then look at the latter half of the 18th century, the entire 19th century, and the early twentieth century, what happened? The French Revolution, which had a ripple effect throughout Europe and even the rest of the world, and then the Industrial Revolution, there are corollaries to what we are seeing right now with the tech revolution, (fear that with AI jobs will be lost, which is akin to the creation of mass production, and the loss of cottage industries, such as the frame makers, dubbed Luddites, which Byron spoke about on the floor of the House of Lords) political strife, and what feels at times (like it must have then) a threat to civilization itself.

Wordsworth was worried about the Lake District surviving and indeed the threat to wildlife everywhere, due to the trains, and how the laying down of tracks would destroy the land.

Leigh Hunt (featured in Exquisite Rain, volume eight of the Romantic Series) was convicted of sedition for writing in The Examiner, his journal with his brother Robert, about the treatment of men who were mustered into service for the military, many whipped as many as two hundred and fifty times, not even stopping after the person had died. Shelley’s grand poem, The Mask of Anarchy, was not published until thirteen years after his death, and speaks about the Peterloo Massacre, in which the military, led by Castlereagh, mowed down the poor protesting for better treatment with signs that read ‘love’. The estimate is that at least 20 people, including children, were killed that day. Every year on August 16th, his poem is read in Manchester, where the massacre occurred. This is the importance of poetry, and it’s why I write.

As a poet, who are your biggest influences?

I would have to start with Sylvia Plath, who convinced me I could write, just by reading her work; T.S. Eliot, Lord Byron, and Emily Dickinson, whose Harvest Poems are a treasure to the world; Erica Jong (her Fruits and Vegetables were a must-read), but there are so many more I could list.

What’s your opinion on modern poetry as it currently stands?

As it stands, we are at a crossroads, if you ask me. There seems to be a slow revival of metered work, which is good, but then there are the IG folks whose work, to my mind, is not poetry at all, the solidly freeverse folks, and me. I am, to the best of my knowledge, one of two poets who write work that combines meter with freeverse, the other being Joe Sale; however, he primarily writes epics and novels. (I should note here that Joe is a connection of mine and did an initial edit of Hymn to Equity, Poems for William Wordsworth, as well as writing a lovely blurb, which is featured in some of my promos for the series).

The crossroads, though, is that in order to sustain the genre at all, we have to connect with readers by INCLUDING rather than EXCLUDING (for instance, I may not like IG poetry, but someone else might). And not tearing each other down, and here I am citing mags who use trolls to make nasty comments on others’ work simply to ruin the poets’ reputation and sometimes out of sheer malice. How do we combat that? By creating bridges between different genres within poetry, rather than warring within the genre, which helps no one and hurts readers who would laud our work and poetry itself. I am reminded of a poem my mother used to recite to me as a child, and I think it’s apt.

He drew a circle that shut me out-

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But love and I had the wit to win:

We drew a circle and took him In!

— Edwin Markham

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

Yes, it definitely does, but to be truthful, I have never felt wholly part of it; however, I have at least found ways to adapt, and poetry is a huge part of that. I know I am not alone in this feeling, and so I encourage anyone who does feel that way to read and read poetry; it really does help.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilization?

My biggest fear is that all my work will be for naught because the powers that be have gone too far, and there is no turning back. I hope that people will get energized, and poetry will have some hand in that. I believe that poetry has the power to change minds and effect change if people will take the time to read it, or just watch one of my poem videos. I am keenly aware that a lot of people don’t read anymore (which is lamentable), so making something which they can just watch, but is still poetry, such as poem videos, is key for those who are more visual in how they take in information.

What’s the greatest moment in your life so far?

When my kids were born. They are my gift to the world. My goal for them was to be good people, and they are.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

There have been many challenges. Fighting for someone you love makes you stronger. I have had to do that many times with both my kids. Thank goodness they are all grown up now. What I learned was to be unafraid to ask for what you need, even if you think it’s too much or that you somehow don’t deserve it. It’s important not to say, “I won’t get this,” or “maybe I don’t deserve it,” but to look at the situation, not be intimidated, and go for it. Even if you can’t see the outcome when you make that choice, the benefits will far outweigh any worries you have in the moment.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I take time every day to do little things: listen to calming music (lately it’s been Chopin), meditate, exercise, and eat well. I cut out all junk food and fast food years ago. I also set a schedule for myself so I am not on the computer all day (I have a quitting time!). I also set mini-goals for myself. Most important, though, is exercise and eating well.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

I would have to say (so far), MAGIC MUSE

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Thanks for taking the time to read this, and thank you, Tiberius, for the interview, which I really enjoyed!

Jump over to my Indiegogo campaign for the entire Romantic Series.

Share it with anyone you think might be interested.

Pledge! Even a small amount really helps.

For a sneak peek at what the series is all about, pop over to my Substack, website, or YouTube, which contain carefully constructed poem videos set to music.

Additionally, Andrew Benson Brown, the Outreach Director at The Society of Classical Poets, has written reviews of each volume (all 14!) as well as a summation. Visit his Substack at Andrew’s Substack to read them.

A quick note: just today someone asked me if you can pledge for only a single volume, and the answer is YES YOU CAN! For a pledge of only $20, you can pick up a copy of any one of the volumes. So if Shelley interests you (as he did her), you can pledge for Sweeter than Honey; but if Blake is your speed, then you can go for Poiein. They are all there! Click on REWARDS, then scroll all the way to the bottom, find the title you want to pledge for, and click ADD TO PLEDGE. IT’S THAT SIMPLE!

LET’S RAISE POETRY UP and show how it can benefit all of humanity!

If Aria’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to her Substack and do go check out “Magic Muse”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Aria’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Aria a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss grief, caregiving, marriage, fatherhood, memory, music, kindness, Jackson Browne, Bruce Springsteen, volunteering, and why sometimes the most important thing we can do for another person is simply help them carry the weight.

The author:

George Lee is a widower, father of four, retired Banker, dog lover, part-time funeral home assistant, and Musicians On Call volunteer. Four years into the grief process after losing his wife, Sherry, he writes personal essays on Substack about love, loss, caregiving, memory, music, family, and the ordinary moments that end up changing us.

I really enjoyed reading your work. Each piece felt raw and honest. Where exactly does that impulse come from?

I think it comes from finally being ready to write about things I carried quietly for a long time.

After my wife Sherry died, I found myself looking back over a lot of my life — our years together, her illness, caregiving, raising children, grief, family memories, music, old stories from childhood, and the places that shaped me.

I don’t really sit down trying to be raw or honest. I just try not to hide from what actually happened and how it felt.

Most of my writing comes from that place. All from my heart

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Most of what I’m writing right now is personal nonfiction rather than fiction.

The main thing I’m trying to do is make people feel less alone. That’s probably the simplest answer.

Grief can make you feel like you’re the only one standing in that strange room. But then someone says something honest, and suddenly you realize other people have been standing there too.

I write about love, loss, memory, family, fear, hope, and the odd little moments that stay with us. I’m not trying to give people answers as much as I’m trying to tell the truth in a way that lets them recognize something in their own life.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

My biggest influences are probably songwriters as much as writers.

Jackson Browne is a huge influence on me. I admire the way he writes about longing, regret, love, time, and the road of life without making it feel false.

Bruce Springsteen has also influenced me — the storytelling, the working people, the sense of place, the idea that ordinary lives are worth writing about.

I’ve also always loved Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. That story has stayed with me since childhood. The past, the present, the future, regret, redemption — all of that still matters to me. I could sit and read Robert Frost all day long

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

I don’t pretend to be an expert on modern literature.

What I respond to is writing that feels human. I like writing that has a heartbeat. If it feels honest, if it makes me pause, if it helps me understand something about being alive, then I’m interested.

I’m less concerned with whether something is considered fashionable or literary. I care more about whether it feels true.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

Yes, the world feels stranger to me.

It feels faster, louder, more divided, and less patient than it used to. Sometimes it feels like everyone is reacting before they’ve had a chance to think or feel.

But I also see a lot of goodness. I see it in hospital rooms. I see it in funeral homes. I see it in volunteers, musicians, neighbors, families, and even strangers who offer a kind word at the right time.

So yes, the world feels unstable. But I don’t think kindness has disappeared. I think it just doesn’t always make as much noise.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

My biggest fear is that we forget how to see each other as human beings.

My biggest hope is that we remember.

I worry about anger becoming too easy and compassion becoming too rare. I worry about people needing someone else to lose before they can feel like they’ve won.

But I still believe in decency. I believe in small acts of kindness. I believe in people showing up for one another.

That may not sound grand, but I think it matters.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

I don’t know if I can name one single moment.

The greatest thing in my life has been loving my family. Being Sherry’s husband. Being a father. Watching my children grow into good people. Seeing my daughter recently graduate from Georgetown Law was one of those moments where I felt the whole long road behind us.

So I would say the greatest moments have been the ones where love was right in front of me and I knew enough to see it.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

The hardest part of my life was the eight years my wife Sherry battled cancer and the years I spent as her caregiver.

People hear the word caregiving and often think of it as an act of kindness or devotion — and it is — but it is also exhausting, frightening, lonely work that millions of people quietly do every day without much recognition.

Your whole life slowly changes. You become part husband, part nurse, part advocate, part researcher, part chauffeur, part protector. You learn how to live inside uncertainty. You learn to celebrate small victories while quietly fearing what might come next.

And then when it’s over, the silence can be overwhelming because caregiving had become your purpose, your structure, your mission.

What I learned is that love can carry people much farther than they think it can. I also learned that grief begins long before death sometimes. Caregivers understand that better than most people.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Not perfectly.

I write when something starts pulling at me. Sometimes that is early in the morning. Sometimes it is late at night. Sometimes it comes after work, after volunteering, after walking my dog Theo, or after coming home from Elk Lake.

At this stage of my life, writing does not feel separate from living. It feels like part of how I understand living how I make sense of it all

So I don’t have some perfect writing routine. I just try to pay attention when a story shows up.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

I would probably point them toward a story called Something Fine.

It tells the story of returning years later to the same hospital floor/ room where my wife died, this time as a volunteer with Musicians On Call. A patient asked for a Jackson Browne song, and by complete surprise the musician began playing Something Fine, which had been one of Sherry’s favorite songs.

For me, that story contains many of the things I write about — grief, love, memory, music, coincidence, kindness, and the strange ways life sometimes reaches back and touches us when we least expect it.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

I would say thank you for reading.

Most people are carrying more than they show. I know I was.

So if my writing says anything, I hope it says this: be gentle with each other. Listen a little longer. Love the people in your life while they are here.

None of us gets through this untouched.

But maybe we can help each other carry it.

If George’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out “Something Fine”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of George’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give George a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss worldbuilding, tabletop RPGs, heroic storytelling, modern literature, faith, fatherhood, creative exhaustion, the state of popular culture, and why the world desperately needs new stories.

The Author:

Justin Burgess is a speculative-fiction author and game designer creating Sea of Fire, an expansive science-fantasy universe spanning fiction, tabletop roleplaying, and original worldbuilding. His work blends post-apocalyptic science fiction, theological mystery, body horror, and hard-won hope. He publishes fiction, lore, and behind-the-scenes development on Substack.

He is a loving husband, devoted father and a former US Marine, no working as a cybersecurity professional somewhere you aren’t allowed to know.

Thanks for doing this interview, Justin.

I really enjoyed reading Sea of Fire. What struck me most was the sheer scale of the world you’ve created. Even in the opening chapter, there’s a strong sense of history, conflict, and a much larger universe lurking just beyond the edges of the page. Where does your passion for expansive worldbuilding come from? And when you’re creating a setting of this size, how do you decide which details to reveal and which to hold back?

Hi, Tiberius, and thank you for letting me present my work. Everything you have been doing has been greatly appreciated by myself and the community at large. As for me, I have always loved reading, writing, and gaming. They have been one of the few consistencies in my life. I used to spend countless hours writing adventures, and custom campaigns for my players. I used to spend weekends drawing maps of game worlds I would create and populating them with landmarks and nations and imagining the lore around them.

There’s more there, but as the work around Sea of Fire goes, the whole thing started as a master’s thesis concept for making an AI governed tabletop RPG. A 17-chapter gamebook emerged with probably 70% completed before I ever started writing the novel, Ignition. So, the lore density comes from the fact that there is a mostly fleshed out and playable world supporting the story. The novel actually started as a collection of short fictions I was putting at each chapter intro and before I realized it, I had an ensemble cast and a strong meta plot building.

As for the details, it is a constant juggle between what I am saving for the game and what I want to reveal in the debut fiction. My protagonist Atlas is already coming into contact with what is the driving antagonistic force behind the entire cosmology, and yet its true depth won’t be revealed until after the game is finished, probably as supplementary material. Ultimately though I aim to respect the reader, and so I have to present the setting and the story through the eyes of a character in each chapter (third person limited) and describe things as a person who has lived in the world all their lives, so what do they know? What do they see and feel? That has been a pretty good lode stone so far.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Hell, how much time you got? Honestly? Popular culture is creatively bankrupt, full stop.

My kids are 7 and 4, and they have no heroes to look up to, not myths to aspire to. They have no stories or heroes that belong to them. All they have to look forward to is some repurposed, repackaged, remixed, and remastered BS from 50 years ago (Lookin at you Disney Star Wars). Heroes are sad deconstructed shadows of their former selves, who were either not actually good, or they have no actual principles to begin with, and villains are all sympathetic victims of unfortunate circumstances. Across the spectrum there is not a new character to be found with a shred of actual agency, nor a presentation of grit, perseverance, faith, and hope in the face of conflict. Sea of Fire is, at its core, a story of hope within abject darkness.

The gap I want to fill is the canyon of emptiness staring my kids in the face. I want to write a story in which the heroes are actually heroes. They might be complex, and even dark in some instances like Tsukienne/Sleepwalker but ultimately, they are striving against a greater foe, and they do it because it is right, because they have hope and the companionship of those in the trenches with them. Conversely, there are no Darth Vaders anymore. I want to write about villains who are evil precisely because they have chosen to do what they do. They commit atrocities because they believe they are right and righteous. They have embraced the dark side as it were, as the path to the future, who really don’t mind the casual loss of life and dominance of others in order to achieve their ends.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

So let’s see, classical would be Dumas, Tolkien, and Lewis. Modern would be Weiss & Hickman, and Slavatore.

Game settings, Robert Hatch and Geoffrey Grabowski who did Exalted, the writing staff at White Wolf in general, and then Cyberpunk 2020 creator Mike Pondsmith.

And a little known book from the Magic the Gathering line called The Cursed Land, by Terri McLaren. It moved me as a young man.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

What modern literature? Does anything even qualify as literature any more? I am not even an academic snob at all, but the last great books were what, the Potter series? That was 2007 so almost a decade ago. I guess that’s my answer.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

Yes. And no.

On its face of course, it is undeniable. However there is a deeper theological discussion there and let’s just say, ‘there is nothing new under the sun.’

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilization?

That’s kind of a big question so I’ll keep it in the wheelhouse. I hope we find our aptitude for story telling again and stop treating aspiration, hope, goodness. And faith like they are radioactive. I think good things extend from displays of virtue in media, starting with the written word.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

It’s an extended dice roll, the formation of my family! I scored several crits.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

Walking away from the Marine Corps. I learned that I am capable of so much more than I ever dreamed of, and that putting my life and faith in Christ’s direction has proven itself to me to be the right direction.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Not well! Between a 7 and 3 year old, a full time job, and a lovely wife who loves my attention, it’s more like continuous restabilization than balance.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

See, this is the one i don’t want to answer because I consider it all one big work.

Dammit….

I guess the prologue to Inferno has gotten a lot of love. Otherwise Welcome to the Stall, or the Character Profile on Roxanne.

I don’ t know, it’s all so good! Well I like it, anyways.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Ahhh my chance to give out some sage advice. I thought about this one so it’s this.

All my fiction writers here, don’t stop writing. The zeitgeist is hungry for stories, adventures in far flung locations, magic and mystery!

The world DESPERATELY needs your stories, your musings and imaginings. The fantastic, the dark, the epic, and the quiet. All of it can inspire.

We are awash in non-fiction (allegedly) these days, and most of it is political, and I hate it. I don’t hate politics, I just think they have had too much time in the sun.

So keep writing, and keep trying to reach those who need to hear your tales. I am one of them. The best storytelling I have seen in decades has been right here in the little sci fi corner of substack.

If Justin’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out “Sea of Fire”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Justin’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Justin a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss dark fantasy, trauma, empathy, monsterhood, queerness, anime, AI, morality, the publishing industry, and why the most terrifying monsters are often the most deeply human.

The author:

Amanda Talavera was born and raised in Los Angeles, California. She spent much of her childhood attending Christian schools, as her parents wanted her to receive the best education possible. Although she was grateful for their support and sacrifices, Amanda struggled to fit in with her peers, especially after coming out as a lesbian. Her early experiences of loneliness helped shape her worldview and would later influence her creative work.

Today, Amanda writes dark fantasy and poetry that explores themes of monsterhood, love, queerness, ambition, and loneliness. She is obsessed with one question: if we’re monstrous, can we accept ourselves and still be capable of good?

Thanks for doing this interview, Amanda.

I really enjoyed reading your work. I was especially struck by the psychological darkness running through your protagonist—the way guilt, fear, rage, self-loathing, and desperation all seem to churn together inside his head in quite a claustrophobic manner. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

I’m glad you enjoyed reading my work, and thank you for such a thoughtful question.

Every day, I always try to see the good in people, even when it can be difficult. I know that may be naive and, in some ways, a flaw in itself, but it’s something I want to explore in my writing.

When I began writing about my protagonist, Malakai, I wanted to introduce him as an unstable teenager with a warped understanding of morality. Yes, he’s violent, no doubt—and I didn’t want to sugarcoat what he did. However, I wanted to go past that exterior and allow readers to see his loyalty for his loved ones, his fears, insecurities, and vulnerabilities. Anything that makes him human. I think it’s so fascinating when the monsters we are supposed to be afraid of reveal themselves to be entirely human underneath.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Empathy and understanding. I want my readers to sit with my characters who are capable of committing violent and selfish actions, yet find the humanity within them. Perhaps, if we were in their shoes, we might do the same. By doing so, how can we accept ourselves? How can we redeem ourselves and break the cycle of trauma? These are questions I hope my readers will take from my work.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

• Batman: The Animated Series

• Tupac Shakur, an acclaimed American rapper

• Star Wars Episodes I - VI by George Lucas

• The Walking Dead comic series by Robert Kirkman

• The Walking Dead: The Telltale Series video game

• Berserk by Kentaro Muira

• Naruto and Naruto Shippuden by Masashi Kishimoto

• One Piece by Eiichiro Oda

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

I have a somewhat mixed opinion on modern literature, particularly within the publishing industry. I’ve been reading self-published books lately, and I’m amazed by the talent and creativity by many indie authors. It saddens me that they do not get much recognition and prestige compared to traditionally published authors.

Still, I’m glad that literature is so accessible nowadays. Indie writers, especially, have the space and freedom to write what they want, and readers can find their work directly.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

As I observe the state of the world, I feel that it’s shifting very quickly, and people do not know how to respond to that change. For example, I see the benefits and risks of AI, but its advancement sometimes feels too fast for us to adapt.

More broadly speaking, the shift of culture, education, technology, and politics have left me feeling uncertain about the future. In turn, that has made me believe the world is currently unstable.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

Although I’m glad that many people are outspoken about their beliefs, even if they differ from another, I’m afraid that this will also lead to division. My hope is that people will continue to advocate and fight for what they believe in, but also learn to listen and engage with those that disagree with them. Literature is so important nowadays because it fosters empathy amongst readers, which in turn leads to intellectual discussions. At its best, it will allow us to step into the shoes of those who have had different experiences in the world.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Finding my community, particularly my best friend and my professors, who continuously support and encourage me to go after my aspirations. I was a lonely kid throughout my childhood, so I’m deeply grateful for anyone who has made me feel seen and recognized.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

Life after graduating university. It was difficult adjusting to the next stage in life—the real world. The job market was, and is still, challenging, and I immediately felt like a failure. Over a few months of depression and inactivity, I eventually realized that I cannot avoid this storm of uncertainty. I had to walk through it to find direction again. During that time, I became an English tutor and participated in community service activities to keep myself busy. That helped clarify my goals. I realized I would like to be a social worker, and I’m planning to apply for Master of Social Work programs in Fall 2026.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

As someone who can easily burn out from my creative projects, I usually write three nights a week, so that I have enough time to rest, recharge, and spend time with loved ones. If I write every single night, I know that my creative projects will turn into an obligation, and I don’t want to lose my love for storytelling and poetry. Also, I believe having a balance between creative ambitions and personal life is essential. I try not to tie my entire identity to my work, which allows me the space and freedom to observe and experience the world more fully.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

I would direct readers to my dark fantasy excerpt, Collapse Beneath Black Waters - The Omen. I’ll be developing the story into a serial. It takes place in a society where magic is inherited through bloodlines and controlled by arranged marriages. As a result, people are often treated like political assets or cast out as outcasts by nature. Malakai is a product of this flawed society, and I want to explore more of its consequences through the other characters and their perspectives.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

I am grateful for anyone who chooses to read and engage with my work. Like a lot of writers, one of my fears is that my work will never be read. So, it means a lot to me when someone takes the time to sit with it. I hope my stories stay with readers and perhaps help them find something that they’ve been searching for. Thank you for reading.

If Amanda’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to her Substack and do go check out “Collapse Beneath Black Waters - The Omen”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Amanda’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Amanda a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

Tiberius is a science fiction author, interviewer, and founder of Voices from the Threshold. His work explores the intersection of technology, civilisation, and human nature, with a particular fascination for the profound social upheavals now beginning to reshape our world.

In this interview, we discuss cyberpunk, AI, transformative science fiction, traditional publishing, Substack, resilience, creativity, and why curiosity may become one of the most important virtues of the coming century.

Thanks for doing this interview, Tiberius.

A lot of people know you through Voices from the Threshold—your ongoing interview series spotlighting writers, artists, and other creatives on Substack. What compelled you to start it in the first place?

Honestly, my debut novel—working title, T1—took almost ten years to write. So, by the time I reached the finish line, I needed a break—not from writing entirely, but from being consumed by my own work.

I wanted to replenish the well, so to speak. To remember why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place. To go back to being a fan of literature.

It also ties into a broader philosophy I have about success—get out of yourself. Stop obsessing over your own wants and needs for five minutes. Put other people first and, more often than not, things tend to work out anyway.

That leads into my next question—what are you ultimately trying to achieve here on Substack? What do you hope people get from your work?

It depends on who you are.

If you’re a talented up-and-coming creative, I want to help get your voice out there.

If you’re a reader who’s grown bored of rigid formula and well-worn tropes, I want to introduce you to new forms of storytelling through my work.

And if you’re simply a curious human being trying to make sense of a rapidly changing world, I want to help you navigate it.

Ultimately, that’s what my Substack is about—writing that makes life feel larger, more engaging, and maybe, just maybe, a little more understandable.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

Honestly, that really depends on the genre. I write across science fiction, horror, noir, and autofiction—so my influences shift accordingly.

Given that my first novel is cyberpunk, I’d say William Gibson is probably my biggest single influence. I admire the elegance of his prose and the way he trusts the reader to fill in the blanks. He doesn’t bury his stories beneath endless exposition. The world emerges naturally through the characters and their experiences.

Beyond that, Hemingway has been a major influence on me for his brevity, while Cormac McCarthy showed me how an author’s themes can produce moments of genuine poetry.

Those names are just a tiny fraction of my influences. If you’re interested, I’ll be going much deeper into all of them over on my blog—starting next week.

So, stay tuned.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

In terms of what I’m seeing from the traditional publishing world, my opinion is pretty low. On the literary side, it’s not that the work is terrible. Far from it. There’s just an awful lot of writing that feels safe and self-absorbed.

Science fiction hasn’t escaped this fate either. Much of the genre feels content to function as pure entertainment. What I miss are the truly transformative works—the books that force you to look at the world differently after you’ve finished them. I don’t see many contemporary equivalents to Dune, The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress, or The Man in the High Castle out there.

The biggest surprise for me, however, has been discovering that all these kinds of stories aren’t dead at all. They’re absolutely thriving on Substack.

You see, the problem isn’t that great stories no longer exist—it’s that many of them simply aren’t being published through traditional channels. Which means it’s on us to champion them. To restack them. To make enough noise that the wider world eventually wakes up and notices.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

Absolutely.

The foundations of power are shifting beneath our very feet—a process that’s unfolding within our individual nation states as well across the broader geo-political order. At the same time, we’re living through what may prove to be the most consequential industrial revolution in human history.

I think moments like this are incredibly rare. Old assumptions are collapsing, while new possibilities are emerging faster than our institutions and our simple ape-brains can process.

Because of that, the world feels simultaneously exciting and gut-wrenchingly precarious. We’re standing at the beginning of something enormous, but nobody can say with confidence exactly where it leads.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

My biggest fear is that we’re about to experience a series of covid-level shocks as society transforms in ways most people still haven’t fully grasped.

I think the next decade will be extraordinarily disruptive. I worry that, instead of rising to the challenge, we’ll become increasingly tribal, trapped inside these algorithmic echo chambers that reward outrage over understanding. That society will keep atomising until we reach an inevitable breaking point.

On the other hand, many of the technologies emerging also contain the promise of a bonafide golden age.

I think if we navigate this transition successfully, we could dramatically reduce scarcity, eliminate vast amounts of drudgery, accelerate scientific discovery and extend human longevity—unlocking the kind of opportunities that previous generations scarcely imagined.

The road to that future may be turbulent, but the destination could be unlike anything humanity has experienced before.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Finishing in the top ten of my cohort at university.

That probably sounds strange to some, but I spent much of my childhood being told I was dumb as a rock and unlikely to amount to anything.

I carried those doubts with me for years. Then, when I finally saw my name near the top of the faculty’s rankings, something in me shifted.

For the first time, I realised I was capable of achieving much more than I’d originally been led to believe.

What’s the most challenging moment been? And what did you learn from it?

Pretty much my entire childhood.

My home life was horrific. I had to survive a constant barrage of physical and emotional abuse at home. I didn’t feel particularly valued or loved.

In many ways, that experience shaped everything that followed. It left me with a strong desire to give the world some of what I felt was missing from my own upbringing.

It also taught me the importance of resilience—how to endure difficult circumstances, pull myself up by my bootstraps, and keep moving forward regardless.

If there’s one lesson I took from those years, it’s that human beings are capable of far more than they think they are when circumstances force them to rise to the occasion.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Honestly, not well.

Writing comes first. Everything else comes a distant second.

At the moment, I’m working in a very chaotic industry while trying to build a long-term writing career. As a result, there’s very little time left over for socialising or relaxation.

It’s not a sustainable way to live, and I wouldn’t recommend it to most. But I also know that it’s temporary, that I’m more than capable of enduring it, and that I’m building toward something meaningful.

It’s a sense of purpose that makes this kind of sacrifice much easier to bear.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

If you want to understand who I am, I’d recommend reading my first major blog post—dropping this week.

If you want to understand the themes that are going to dominate my writing, keep an eye out for the third.

And if you’re here for the fiction, then be patient.

It won’t be much longer now.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

We’re moving into profoundly uncertain times.

The next decade is likely to be difficult and, for some, deeply painful. But I also believe there are tremendous opportunities waiting on the other side of all this chaos.

A new era of human flourishing, if you will.

Though to get there, we’ll need the capacity to reinvent ourselves.

Being intellectually flexible is a must. Strong principles are important, certainly. But they need to be tempered with curiosity, humility, and a willingness to change our minds when the evidence demands it.

The people who cling most rigidly to yesterday’s worldview, yesterday’s identities and yesterday’s jobs are likely to suffer the most—mainly from wounds they inflict upon themselves.

So, my advice is simple.

Stay curious. Stay adaptable. Keep learning.

And, by God, let’s do our best to leave the world a little better than we found it.

If Tiberius’ answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out “Journal From The Threshold#1”, dropping this Wednesday. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Tiberius’ answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Tiberius a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss Philip K. Dick, conspiracy theories, AI superminds, simulation theory, technological overload, cyberpunk, creativity, and why writing can become an anchor in a world drowning in static.

The author:

Thanks for doing this interview, Jason (Senior Operations Manager Of The Ear Implant Foundation)

I really enjoyed reading your work. Each piece felt steeped in a strange fusion of cyberpunk paranoia, spiritual longing, and mythic symbolism — as though ancient religious instincts were colliding head-on with technological modernity. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

When I write, at least during the early phases in which an idea takes shape, I try to stay as close to the subconscious as possible while staying on track with constructing a plot. Things come into my mind at random a lot of times. I might have a general outline of a plot, or sometimes only a basic idea, and themes emerge as I’m writing, or later drift into my thoughts in between writing sessions. A lot of it comes from trying find focus in a technological world that aims to push one into a scatterbrained state of mind, where one moves a thousand miles an hour in a hundred different directions, but in the end it feels like one hasn’t really moved anywhere, but one still feels mentally exhausted as if one had run a mental marathon. Ideas for writing emerge as anchors, something to grasp onto and focus on, to reveal a signal within the static.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

As far as having a specific intention on what I want the reader to experience, I realize that this is something I don’t have control over. Everyone is going to have their own experience of reading my work, possibly one I wouldn’t have intended, even if I did have a specific intention. The main thing is to get people’s attention, and then hope they felt like they read something original, that I brought something to the table that isn’t exactly like everything else on the table.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

My biggest influences overall aren’t writers per se, but a lot of random crazy things I’ve read, watched, and listened to online over the years about mind control technology, secret government programs, simulation theory, alternate timelines, secret societies, the paranormal, gang stalking, inter-dimensional beings, and so on. As far as writers go, I’m the most influenced by Philip K. Dick, Robert Silverberg, William Gibson, and Ray Bradbury.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

I’ve hardly read anything written before the early 2000s recently, so I really can’t say. I buy mostly used books. I like to dig stuff up at thrift stores and used shops. I like to read stuff that’s old but that was ahead of it’s time at the time it was written, or was somewhat accurate at predicting our present or our near future from the past.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

It seems the modern age is a contradictory mix of surrealism and routine repetition. With AI, quantum computing, massive data centers, 3-D printing technology, and everything else tech related going on, it seems like everything is moving in a direction that would seem unthinkable when I was growing up. Yet while all this is going on, most of life is the same thing every week: get up, shower, watch the local news at breakfast, scroll and check online updates and notifications, log on to work, check for updates and notifications at lunch, log back into work, check for updates and notifications after work, go for a walk, eat dinner, scroll and check for updates and notifications again, do chores, check updates and notifications again, read for a bit, then go to bed; then do it again the next day, all while the world is moving into a surreal future in which we will all likely be ruled by thinking machines beyond our comprehension.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilization?

My biggest fear, besides the possibility of a shift of the Earth’s magnetic pole along with a geomagnetic storm sending civilization back to the stone age, would be for the world become completely consumed and dehumanized by technology and allow for an AI supermind to rule over everything. My biggest hope is that people return to nature at least a little, or at least pull back from being consumed my technology at least a little, and maybe read more books, enough to prevent the AI supermind from ruling over everything.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

(I prefer not to get into personal stuff, plus my answer would be long, rambley and indecisive)

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

(Same with this question as the one above)

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I just try to manage things one week at a time. Some weeks I might get in eight hours of writing and/or editing across multiple days, some weeks maybe only two hours on Sunday night. Other times it’s a matter of coming terms with the reality that being out of balance and exhausted is just part of the mission.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

Without knowing what this someone’s personal tastes are, I’d start off with “The Ear Implant”, since that’s how I got started on Substack, and that will at least help explain where I got my username from, even if they don’t finish the whole thing, which is an hour plus read that I probably should have released as a series.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

My latest work, “The Brain Recording”, is a seven part serial novella. At the time of this interview, I’ve posted five out of seven parts so far with the final two parts coming in the next few weeks. It’s the most challenging thing I’ve done yet. It’s a cyberpunk adjacent sci-fi tech-horror conspiracy theory story about a guy who is working his way up the ladder within a big tech company. He hears rumors and develops suspicions about his CEO boss possibly having dark secrets. He gets invited to a secret meeting at his boss’s house, and becomes involved in a plot to expose what his boss is really up to.
After this series in finally all posted, I’m going to try to work on something shorter next time.

If Jason’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out “The Ear Implant”. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Jason’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Jason a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss poetry, trauma, Southern Gothic, anime, Stephen King, Cormac McCarthy, storytelling, civilisation, and why the truest stories often emerge when writers stop trying to control them.

The author:

M.P. Strayer’s work has appeared in more than seventy publications, most recently Aethlon: the Journal of Sports Literature, Bare Back Magazine, and Zoetic Press. He resides in Corvallis, Oregon.

Thanks for doing this interview, M.P.

I appreciate the opportunity. Call me Mike.

I really enjoyed reading your work. What struck me most was your ability to fuse beautiful natural imagery with profound emotional pain. Poetry felt almost dreamlike at times, yet every detail carried an unmistakable weight. Where exactly does that approach come from? And what do you think poetry and lyrical prose allow you to express that more direct storytelling doesn’t?

That particular story was written in the fall of 2013 and, in this case, I think I let the title dictate the form a bit. The title came first and it allowed for a certain creative license. In all my work, for a long time now, I’ve tried not to focus too much on the distinction between poetry and prose. No one can read All the Pretty Horses and tell me it’s not replete with poetry. Conversely, for me, it’s the poem written in the simplest, most straightforward language—that has something to say, and actually says it—that hits the hardest. Trauma imprints on us in a number of ways. Memories come out of order, or blurred, or with surreal precision. With “Poetry” I wanted the reader to experience that incongruity of horror and sunshine.

Story is story. I used to be obsessed with ideas of style, but now I just try my best to tell the damned thing, to trust the Muse and the decades of life I’ve spent working on my craft to convey the narrative.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Well, I guess I always want readers to come away with a feeling they’ve experienced something, to have undergone a journey of some kind, that they’ll remember going forward. Something true, even if it’s completely made up--which requires aesthetic fidelity. But I sit down at this machine whether or not anybody ever reads the words; there’s no gap I’m trying to fill. If I can be a light, an escape, a sense of communion with something larger, if I can contribute to a cultural memory, that’s great. But I’m never trying to direct my stories, nor how people interpret them. I listen to the Muse. The story is boss. I think Stephen King said that.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

On that note: Stephen King surely. I think my earliest and most enduring models of what a storyteller is or can be derive from King, J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis, whose works my mother used to read to me at bedtime. But I think the single greatest influence on my art is Akira Toriyama; the discovery of Dragon Ball, and anime more broadly, marked a turning point in my life, in the kinds of stories I wrote and ingested, how I saw the people I wrote about in my mind’s eye, in the colors I used, the violence, the big emotions, the transformations, the awesome fight scenes. My love of anime has never left.

Other turning points were, in no particular order, the discoveries of Dante, Cormac McCarthy, Junot Diaz, Ernest Hemingway, and W.S. Merwin. Louise Erdrich continues to exemplify an artistic standard I aspire to. I adore Toni Morrison, and Beloved will always have a place on my shelf. Reading William Styron is always humbling. Ditto Peter Matthiessen and Mary Oliver. Christ there are so, so many. Denis Johnson, Charles Bukowski. Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha was a significant find for me as a teenager. I used to ramble around California writing about regional MMA—my experiences as a martial artist, it occurs to me now, also played a huge role in my development—and A.J. Liebling’s The Sweet Science was never out of reach.

So many.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

Some of it I like, such as Daniel Kraus’s Angel Down, which (deservedly) won a Pulitzer Prize this year.

Some of it I don’t.

Identity and story are not synonymous.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

I think surreal is an apt word—but I have to constantly remind myself that, despite some unprecedented changes (such as the proliferation of social media and LLMs), I imagine every generation not preoccupied with killing a mammoth has thought they were living through strange times. Most of the things people around me are so concerned with, that they think are so incomparably important, I consider ephemeral.

My biggest fear is astronomical impact.

My biggest hope (fantasy, really) is that we’ll achieve a society wherein we’ve collectively agreed to stop killing each other in mass and in which folks are left more or less to their own devices.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

The discovery of Delirium Tremens Belgian Ale.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I’m still working that out.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Poorly, I must admit. When I’m working on something, the project occupies great space in my mind, and leeches out into pretty much every aspect of my day-to-day until it’s done.

My life is structured around my practice. Truly. I have not “made room” for it. I make room for everything else.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

“The Incredible Coffee-Making Hound.”

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Thank you so much. If any of you out there are inspired to read my work, I hope you get something out of it (also: re-stacks go a long goddamn way in this place).

Cheers!

If M.P. Strayer’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out “The Incredible Coffee-Making Hound.” There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of M.P. Strayer’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Mike a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss mythology, hip-hop, language as alchemy, underground rap, psychosis, civilisation, creative obsession, and why the best art should leave us with more questions than answers.

The artist:

GLDMAZE (Christopher Crawford Jr.) is a Texas-based hip-hop emcee, writer, and digital artist whose work comprises abstract, world-built lyricism, sci-fantasy lore, bizarre colors and configurations, and creative philosophy. GLDMAZE has an afrofuturist mind with the heart of an artist and the spirit of a wizard. With this fusion he explores radical notions of identity, revolution, the mind/spirit, and alchemy.

Thanks for doing this interview, GLDMAZE. I really enjoyed listening to your latest album. The production was in point, and your delivery was next level. There seems to be a whole world and mythology you’re exploring through your lyrics too. Can you give readers a brief introduction to that lore?

Thank you, man. Yeah, so my mythos takes place on Earth at different phases of its evolution with Humanity, and currently in the story Earth is now known as Velderon after aliens give it a facelift so to speak, and arcana is a separate pillar of society now with its own “spectrum” of espionage. Mando Files takes place within this espionage community. 

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your work? What are you trying to make the listener feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Oh for sure, mystify. My work is an effort to bring back intentional alchemy within these institutions of language. The way the code manifests I think is its own puzzle that I immerse in as much as I hope others do. I love puzzles. I’m not the best at solving them, but that’s partly because I often second-guess my intuition. It is practice in intuition, for me and for the audience.

As a rapper, who are your biggest influences?

Probably MF DOOM, Earl Sweatshirt, Deltron 3030, Travis $cott.

What’s your opinion on modern rap as it currently stands?

There’s a few pockets of brilliance, a lot of ignorance to the underground jewels, a lot of redundant imagery though. Lyricism needs revitalizing–that frontier does have its figures though, in unexpected places too. I think overall good music is being made, I just want to see more nuances conveyed in other types of narratives. 

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

The world feels a bit surreal, very grave, very strange, and very desperate. The Storm has been here for a while. I think this time period marks a turning point we have yet to see the true revelatory moments from. It’s all confusion and division with the average person feeling the weight of everything or nothing at all. We need more people willing to navigate that weight, and really that shadow, with love and grace, not suspicion and hatred. Again, that’s hard to do given our environment and the “setup” as it were, but with intention I think the world can be conveyed in a way that challenges this dark reality with impact.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

My biggest hope for humanity is that we will start acting for posterity’s sake. I fear my generation will be too emotionally stunted to build anything productive.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Probably performing with my brothers-in-bars [SpaceGoonz] on the same stage as a hip-hop legend. Same show, different sets. I know for a fact it was a bigger deal for us than it was for him, or maybe it was similar, but man it felt like a full-circle moment in my hip-hop journey.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

Probably my first psychotic break. I’m open about it now because it’s important, but I learned that no one sees the same world as you, and that dissonance can be dangerous if not channeled.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I believe my creative practice extends into most if not all aspects of my life, even if I don’t intentionally label these aspects “creative.” I live and breathe what I do, and I’m always thinking about it. I try not to say obsessed but there’s definitely an embodiment in the process.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

I would say THE.MAZIST ORIENTATION is a great guide to my work on Substack—the lore, the music and lyrics, poetry, more, especially if you want to really dive into all that. Other than that, check the new project out. MANDO FILES:: VOL. 1. Ya feel me?

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

I consider all the people who find something of value in my work to be a Seeker, and to be a Seeker is to question why you even had that question. To question the quest you’re on, yet trek on.

If GLDMAZE’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out MANDO FILES:: VOL. 1. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of GLDMAZE’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give GLDMAZE a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss observation, humour, literature, Zen, morality, creativity, civilisation, and why becoming a better writer may begin with simply learning to pay closer attention.

The author:

Jackson Houser has lived nearly all his life in eastern South Florida. He worked mainly as a hearing officer for the State of Florida. Retired, he now tends his garden and helps build houses.

Thanks for doing this interview, Jackson.

You are quite welcome. I am honored to be chosen for an interview. Please be gentle. My only other interviews have been for jobs. They do not go well, usually.

I really enjoyed reading your work. I was especially struck by the meditative grace of the piece. There’s something deeply humane and contemplative about the way you linger on strangers most people would pass without a second thought. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

I have a morbid feeling that life is passing me by unnoticed. May I give you an example? Thanks. We had some iguana exterminators out to the house a little while ago. They spotted an iguana in the mahogany right away. I had seen nothing. It was embarrassing.

Alternatively, remember what Sherlock Holmes said in one of the early adventures: “You see, Watson, but you do not observe.” Every so often I remember to observe.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

I want the reader to feel like an observer, but a whimsical one.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

I did my Master’s thesis on H.L. Mencken, so you might think that he would be a great influence, and he is, in a way. You’ve read people who try to write like Mencken, sometimes unconsciously, influenced through an intermediary. I try not to write like him, as he wished. Robert Benchley, and those other Algonquin Round Table types—Dorothy Parker, Thurber, Woolcott—give some of the sensibility I want to convey. Alliterative Anglo-Saxon poetry, though I have read very little, is a big influence, at least the alliteration aspect. Also, Marianne Moore’s “The Pangolin.” I wish I could write like that. Oh, and since I think I see your eyelids getting heavy, I will just mention the dramatic monologues of Robert Browning and Frost. Apparently, if your first name is Robert, you have a good chance of being an influence on me.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

This is one of those questions that I must confess to having too little information about to form a sound opinion. For example, a couple of years ago I read Elena Ferrante’s celebrated Neapolitan tetralogy and came away with the primary feeling that she has a knack: for writing annoying characters doing annoying things. No more Ferrante for me, though that is not an ironclad commitment. That opinion says more about me than about her or modern literature in general.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

You undoubtedly know the punchline to the Zen koan: “Not the flag, not the wind; Mind is moving.” I feel the same way, I think: the world is as strange and surreal as it probably always has been and will be. I am recognizing it a bit more. Not enough.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

Biggest hope? That human civilization expands throughout the Solar System and beyond, peacefully, mostly. Biggest fear? That human civilization will not expand…No, my biggest fear for the future of our civilization is that anti-Modern, anti-freedom ideologies will become dominant; it won’t be forever, but it will seem like it.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Gee, I wish I had read all the questions before starting to answer! Um, I have to answer a different question: “What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far, that you can talk about?” That way I can skip over my declaration of love (reciprocated, to my relief) and instead cite the reception of one of my Recommended Orders as a Reemployment Assistance (Unemployment Compensation) Special Deputy. The resulting decision made a difference in Florida, and perhaps the rest of the country. But I can’t say more about it than that.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I was offered a Golden Opportunity in my career. I declined. It would have required me to break a pledged obligation, not one that was legally enforceable, but which I felt was morally binding. I learned that I could do things like that and be happy with the result, on net (meaning, yes, I do sometimes think, “How would things have been different if I had accepted?”).

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

This is a good question! (That is the beginning of a long, rambling response that hopes you fall asleep before I have actually answered.) But the real answer is that too often I allow the rest of my life to outweigh my creative ambitions. I then try to make up for it, to the neglect of my life—for example, the elderly cat I inherited wants to go outside, as I write this. I keep putting her off. I will continue to put her off until I am done. It will not be good for the peace of the household.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

“She Looked At Me, Expressionless.” June 23, 2025

But if you will permit me, my favorite is the dramatic monologue:

“The Abbess of the Ospedale della Pietà Speaks to Antonio Vivaldi, 1709. May 7, 2025

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Wake up! Even if my answers have lulled you to sleep, at least respect Tiberius for taking a chance with this interview. Keep reading him, whatever you think of me. But also, “WAKE UP!” (emphatically with the exclamation}: look around, if you can; listen, if you can; feel it, if you can; and write about it, even if you think you can’t.

If Jackson Houser’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out The Abbess of the Ospedale della Pietà Speaks to Antonio Vivaldi, 1709. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Jackson’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked? Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Jackson a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss AI, automation, science fiction, parenthood, civilisation, optimism, worldbuilding, and why imagining tomorrow begins with asking better questions about today.

The author:

SB Corvus is a nerd. He grew up a gamer and still plays Mario Kart with his kids. He started writing as a kid, but didn’t start a serious writing journey until 2006, when he graduated from college. His first apartment was someone’s converted garage where he set up a little writer’s studio in a closet just wide enough to fit a desk and computer. He finished his first book back in 2008, tried to publish, realized he’d starve to death, and took an almost 20-year detour. Now he ekes out a few pages here and there either late at night or early in the morning so it doesn’t take time away from building Magic: The Gathering decks, gardening, vibe-coding with Claude, or spending time with his kids.

Where does your inspiration for these concepts come from?

My inspiration comes from my kiddos. Not because they talk about mile-high cities or dropouts stealing robots from college, but because I’m constantly anxious about what their future looks like. What will life be like when they’re adults? What happens to them if everything can be automated? Do we go through a decade or two of massive social unrest? If so, how do we prepare? Or is the transition through the Singularity smooth? I don’t know, but it keeps me up at night.

Why “Life with AI?” Well, I’ve also always been a bit obsessed with AI. That book I wrote back in 2008 was centered on AI. It was a sci-fi thriller, but the TL:DR was that humanity rounded up and shoved any self-aware AI they could find into a giant Faraday cage so they could continue to extract labor from the AI without having to worry about the moral implications of having essentially built a slave race. I’ve always just assumed AI will reshape the world. It’s just that what was sci-fi back in 2008 is no longer sci-fi.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

The core aim of my fiction is to explore a realistic picture of what’s to come. Not an all-chrome solarpunk utopia. Not an ash- and ruin-filled autocratic dystopia. I explore ideas that are realistically plausible with the advent of AI in the near term. In fact, everything I’m writing is technically possible with existing technology. They’re just massive engineering and orchestration problems. But I don’t want to just say, “Hey, look at all this cool stuff!” I want to show you a day in the life of people living in that future possibility. I want readers to confront the fact that if we accept the current status quo, we’ll fall far short. We need to be more creative in how we approach our social contracts and the physical ways in which we live and interact with the world.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

I’m a fan of Asimov, Arthur C. Clark, Frank Herbert, Michael Crichton, Tolkien, Brian Jacques. I love authors who really commit to the worlds they create.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

A lot of modern literature is focused on quick reader capture and follows a typical progression from start to finish. Simplified heroes’ journeys with satisfying resolutions. But, generally, I think the writing is better than it was in the 90’s, but there were some writers in the 50’s and 60’s who saw SO far ahead, it’s mind-boggling. That kind of prescience feels like it’s missing these days.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

The age we live in is objectively more unstable than the last five decades. Countries are moving away from globalization in favor of isolation, populism is broadly gaining traction, and misinformation has been normalized, if not outright encouraged. AI amplifies these trends and absolutely makes our social structures more unstable and our day-to-day more surreal. Still, I choose to be optimistic about the long-term impact. In the near term, I suspect we’ll face massive disruption as most governments and policymakers fail miserably to keep up with an exponential technology.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

I fear a civilisation-scale system shock. AI-forward countries will get hit by the step change first, as other countries fall dramatically behind. The reaction and agility of all countries and communities will determine the degree of social unrest caused by the disruption as AI goes from moving electrons (software) to moving atoms (robotics and infrastructure). Most of the current leadership (regardless of political party and in almost every country) suffers from short-term near-sightedness. They’re either “accelerate at all costs” or “no data centers in my backyard. Ever”. We should be thinking in generational terms, not in terms of the next election cycle.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Three events. Marrying my wife and the birth of each of my children. Absolutely changed the course of my life. I know, I know. Cheesy. But it’s true.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I almost lost my business. I’m a small business owner, and I learned I can’t wear all hats. I needed to let go of control and let others do what they do best while I focus on what I do best.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Right now it’s a struggle. I sneak in bits of writing throughout the day. I used to go to bed at 8 PM and get up at 4 AM. I loved having all that time in the morning, but it put me too out of sync with my family and everyone else, kind of like living in a different time zone. Now I’m aiming for a consistent writing block from 9 PM to 11PM, and that works well enough. Not as productive as I’d like it to be, but I’m not going to compromise time with my family.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

Probably Water. It’s the only piece on here that showcases where I’m really going with all of my writing. The current story, “The Candidate,” is about a character who later paves the way for The Arcology series. In that series, I want to take readers through the daily lives of people from all walks of life as they navigate life in a mile-high, self-sustaining, AI-optimized city. The Arcology series will be my main focus over the course of this year. It’s set in 2040 and assumes incredible scientific, engineering, and social advances occur within a very narrow timeframe. It’s my ode to a better future.

If SB Corvus’ answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out Water. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of SB’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give SB a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss horror, depression, loneliness, modern publishing, AI, civilisation, grief, creativity, and why understanding monsters might first require understanding ourselves.

The author:

Cello Halibut is the temporary and terrible nom de plume of an aspiring author who went from hiding from the world to searching for an audience on Substack. They like to write about things that go bump in the dark night of the soul. Explorations of what it means to be a monster, to be human, and to learn that maybe there’s not much of a difference between the two.

Thanks for doing this interview, Cello. I really enjoyed reading your work. I was especially impressed by the strength of the characterisation throughout—the way your protagonist’s paranoia, bitterness, loneliness, and violent impulses all bleed into even the smallest observations. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

Sadly, a lot of it comes from me. They always say write what you know. I spent a long, long time stuck in a state of mind where all those negative emotions were whirling around in my head. When life was forcing me to interact with society, and all I wanted to do was shut it out completely. Yet still yearning to find acceptance and companionship, because those are real human needs. As it turns out, when you’re in a war with yourself, you’re going to be miserable. To put the words on paper, I just needed to be in that mindset and transcribe the thoughts. Luckily, I’m in a better place now. One where I’m stable enough to share with the world.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

I think the core aim of my fiction is twofold. Firstly, I’m trying to put my readers in the shoes of monsters. I want them to see people behaving badly, and hopefully, see how they could arrive at those same actions. To show how we’re all wrestling with some inner demons, that it’s okay to be flawed, and even though we can’t really control what happens to us, we can choose how we respond - and that is what makes us human. The second, of course, is to write vampires being cool. Oh, and depressing. Cool and depressing.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

Anne Rice - I love her prose, how she wrote details in all senses. Christopher Moore - His weaving of humour into a narrative, the crazy characters and all so easily readable. Ernest Hemingway - Seems like a contradiction with my love of Anne Rice, but when you expose the essence of things, there lies the truth. Uncomfortable truths reign supreme in horror, in my opinion.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

Maybe it’s my fault for getting older, or maybe it’s modern literature, but I don’t find myself as enthusiastic about the titles I see on the shelves at the bookstore as I used to be. The cynic in me thinks the modern publishing industry has found their formula and they’re milking it to maximise profit, and that’s why everything is starting to look the same. But if we’re talking about non-corporate literature, my time on Substack has been amazing. I’ve connected with so many authors and had real engagements about writing - more so than I have in many years prior. It’s given me a slightly renewed sense of hope.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

I’m even more pessimistic about the modern age in general. The Internet has gone from humanity’s greatest information sharing tool to its greatest disinformation sharing tool. The little communities we build to share our interests likewise trap us in echo chambers and divide the monoculture into so many pieces it all falls apart. It’s like we’re living in The Second Coming by W.B. Yeats. We look around for reassurance and find no steady hand on the tiller. I’m sure many other generations have said something similar, and we will probably find a way forward as a species, but it’s little comfort when night is closing in on us. But if even a monster can find a light in the darkness, maybe we can, too.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

My biggest hope for the future of our civilisation is that we see the fruits of all these tools and technologies we’re building give us our time back and enable people to pursue their passions. A world where machines and AI provide abundance for everyone, not just the elite. How many Shakespeares or Mozarts have we missed because they had to work three jobs just to make ends meet? So much of modern life has been sucked dry of art and artifice in the name of efficiency, optimisation, and the ruthless pursuit of profit. I want my Art Deco buildings back! My fear is the powers that be will take those same tools and technologies and continue the system which reduces humanity to no better than machines. Cogs and gears don’t need great art. That’s why, although I can see the use for AI in my professional (non-authorial) life, I’m against it being used to generate literature, movies, etc. There’s no humanity in those artificial products, and our stories are how we pass the flame to those who come after us.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Honestly, the fact that I’m here at all is probably it. Getting all philosophical for a moment, I don’t know if I can single out something. We’re constantly growing and changing. Yesterday is gone and tomorrow is never promised. I try to make the best of each day and continue to build on past me’s efforts. I will say, though, that finding out some people actually enjoy my work has been pretty stellar.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I don’t know if you could call it a “moment” but the end of 2020 to mid-2022 was the darkest period of my life. I spoke about it briefly in one of my articles, but I lost everything except my job during that period. My father, my marriage, my home, my social sphere. The double-whammy of depression and anxiety surrounded it almost took me out completely. As for what I learned? Well, I learned that we’re only borrowing people from the universe, so love them intensely as you can for as long as you can. And I learned there are people out there who care about you and love you and that it can make a real difference in your life when you realise it and accept it.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

Poorly.

Ha, no but seriously, it’s a struggle a lot of the time. Work takes up a tremendous amount of mental energy lately, so there’s not much left when I get home for the evening. I tend to write a lot when I’m travelling for work in airport lounges and hotels, as those are the places where I have the least distraction. I’ve been getting better at devoting time to it at home, though. Setting goals to publish articles and chapters of my book on Substack is getting me back in the habit of writing on a more regular basis.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

The prologue for Involuntary Monsters. If they read that and like it, they’ll probably enjoy the rest of the book. I’d like to say my work only gets better from there.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

This whole Substack thing has been an incredible journey so far. Thanks to everyone for the kind words, the inspiration and the banter, and I hope I’m bringing some sort of benefit to you all in return. And special thanks to you, Tiberius. I never thought in a million years that anyone would care about what I write, let alone ask me all the questions above. Taking the time to engage with and promote small creators like myself is fantastically special and I hope I can pay it forward someday.

Carpe Noctem.

If Cello Hallibut’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out Involuntary Monsters. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Cello’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Cello a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss fantasy, storytelling, collaboration in the digital age, homelessness, parenthood, the changing literary landscape, and why some of the most meaningful stories begin not with plot, but with emotion.

The author:

Gaylen J. Pruitt was born in California and now lives in Wisconsin with his wife, daughter, and two dogs. He writes fantasy stories (always has) and spent his days as a child pretending to be C.S. Lewis. His favorite color is green and sometimes orange. His favorite word is “recalcitrant” but only because it suits him.

Thanks for doing this interview, Gaylen.

I really enjoyed reading your work. I was especially impressed by how convincingly you captured the consciousness of a bluebird—its instincts, perceptions, and emotional world all felt startlingly authentic. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

Tiberius! Thank you for the kind words!

I think part of what makes Bonny and Tawny so much fun is that they have the personality of birds much bigger than they are.

See, there are lots of geese where I live and they are essentially what I modeled the Bluebirds’ behavior on. The way that Bonny and Tawny cooperate, their regard for each other, their bravery, and their protectiveness all come from the way I’ve seen geese act.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

I think I just want to give people a place they can hide for a bit. You know? I want readers to feel like they’ve slipped away to witness significant events. As far as gaps…well, I’m not too sure, but I can say that somewhere along the way it became important for me to tell stories where the plot is a consequence of emotion.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

David Eddings, Terry Brooks. I found them as a kid, and I haven’t ever really been able to look past them since.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

I see that many of the systems and definitions I grew up with (e.g., What does good look like? What counts as writing?) are being cast aside. There are drawbacks to that, but it also means that the “rules” are less formalized than gatekeepers would have us believe and I am in favor of that.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

It is impossible to ignore the destructive forces at work in our world today. However, the thing that has most surprised me about this age is the access to collaboration. Whatever is going on, it is now easier and somewhat safer to find people who agree with you and who are willing to collaborate with you. That’s surreal to me. It used to be much harder!

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

If we make, or do, or create anything that future generations don’t like, they’ll just discard it and move on with their lives. I believe that we overemphasize our impact on the future tremendously. Can you imagine trying to predict the kind of morality you’d need in 2026 from the year 1969? It’d basically be impossible.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Most parents will probably say the same thing: the day my child was born. That is true for me, too. As I said at the time, “I’ve never been free to focus on one thing before.”

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I was homeless for a long time. Stereotypically, so. The thing I learned most is that a lack of shelter is an unimaginable difficulty multiplier; think about the worst hardship you’ve ever endured…and then think about dealing with it outside.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I try to make writing into a small deal. There is no real discipline involved, I just write whenever I’ve got a moment. Even if it’s like a minute’s worth of writing, I’ll pull out a notebook and write. After a while, you’ve got something worth publishing.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

It would have to be “The Bluebirds Were Her Friends”. It’s not even my favorite, but it resonates with people, and it ties in with a future project I’m close to releasing. If I’m being honest, it probably reveals a bit too much about that project but it’s too late to take it back now!

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

The first thing I want to say is thank you, Tiberius. And thank you to everyone who’s been reading my stories. I would also like to take this chance to announce that I will be releasing my very first novel later on this month.

The book is called WRATH OF THE BURNT GODS; it is an epic fantasy novel about Zareen, the woman from “Bluebirds,” and her hunt for the evil wizard who’s kidnapped her magical, green-skinned child. Look for it on Kindle this July 2026!

If Gaylen J. Pruitt’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out The Bluebirds Were Her Friends. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Gaylen’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Gaylen a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss noir, comics, autism, absurdism, independent art, the decline of physical media, why the world has always been crazy as hell, and what it means to keep creating in an age increasingly obsessed with attention.

The author:

Steven Fain is a lover of noir and all things shadowed and strange. He creates gritty black-and-white physical art, primarily using Sharpies, exploring themes of darkness, decay and human nature. An independent artist for over two decades, his work is raw and sometimes dirty.

Thanks for doing this interview, Steven. I’ve really enjoyed perusing your art. Each piece feels steeped in the atmosphere and iconography of hardboiled noir. Where did your love for the genre begin? And what does your creative process usually look like when putting these images together?

1986. Mickey Spillane.

Where did it begin? My mom’s to blame for the beginning. My mom used to watch all the TV detectives: Murder, She Wrote, Simon & Simon, Perry Mason, Columbo, etc., etc., and Mike Hammer. Mike Hammer was my favorite because he had an awful attitude toward people, and I loved it. The opening credits for Mike Hammer always said it was based on the books by Mickey Spillane, so one day I hopped on my bike and rolled my 11-year-old ass down to the Paperback Shack, which was a local second-hand paperback bookstore in the ’80s, and found Mickey Spillane’s The Erection Set. I stacked it between two Beetle Bailey books that were 25 cents each, thinking maybe the cashier wouldn’t notice the naked woman I was trying to buy. She did. She didn’t care.

I was shocked that they sold me a book with that cover, but I immediately went out into the alley and started reading a book that would shape my entertainment tastes for the rest of my life. Okay, I didn’t immediately start it… I stared at the cover for a bit first. But I read that entire book that afternoon in that alley. As a note, it was not a Mike Hammer book but the introduction of Dog Kelly. What mattered was that it was full of sex, violence, and an attitude toward life I had not yet encountered in others: dark and grim. It was the world I saw when I looked around. I felt an instant sense of belonging that I still get every time I read a good, dark, hopeless noir novel.

As for my process, I spend a significant amount of time thinking about pieces. Normally, I’m thinking about a quote from a book, or film, or song, and I visualize my interpretation of that. Most of my art is made for me, and that shows, as it’s usually a single subject interacting with the camera/viewer/me. I picture every single line. At that point, I draw what I see much like a printer or machine would — it’s a far less human process than people imagine.

I typically start with the eyes and work out from there, but it doesn’t really matter where I start, as no line is wrong. I just work with whatever error I made, and no one else knows I fucked it up anyway.

I don’t draw in front of audiences because of this. It looks like a trick or something I can teach them, and then it just brings about more questions. If I wanted questions, I’d have chosen a different profession than drawing alone in a dim bedroom. There are any number of performers and content creators out there. I am not one of them. Nearly every piece is a conversation between the subject and myself, and it becomes awkward if someone is listening in.

I’ll draw in public, like at a park or in a waiting room, but that’s because people aren’t paying attention. I would never want to do another video or anything like that. I’m not looking for subscribers, fans, or likes. I make art. It’s cool if people like it, but it doesn’t affect me making it.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your art? What are you trying to make the viewer feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Here is a callous answer that will be sure to win me lots of fans: I do not concern myself with the viewer. If they have a feeling, then that comes from them, not from me. I don’t mean that harshly, but I make art for myself. Getting the darkness from inside of me out and onto the paper is the only goal.

It’s cool when other people like it, but the day I sit down and say, “Now what could I do that people would like?” is hopefully the last day I ever draw anything. I’m interested in why people may like one drawing more than another, but I have never made a piece thinking, “This will make them feel X.” That seems pretentious and assumptive. Plus, it would require an understanding of other people that I simply do not possess.

As an artist, who are your biggest influences?

Tom Mandrake is the top one without question. His run on The Spectre in the ’90s made me want to be an artist. Robert Mapplethorpe is second, as his black-and-white photography changed the way I looked at the world and the way I represented it. Plus, it was all so edgy and naked.

Ethan Van Sciver and Trent Kaniuga were pretty big influences too. Their Hall of Heroes stuff (CyberFrog and CreeD) was very inspiring and made me rethink what was possible for independent comics and art.

However, Tom Robbins’s book Still Life with Woodpecker is the biggest influence in my life in every way. It introduced me to Absurdism, which gave me the blueprint for finding a way to exist in the world, and it comes through in a lot of my art. If there seems to be some thread of hope in something I make, that hope is from Tom Robbins.

What’s your opinion on modern comic art as it currently stands?

I am really not in a position to comment, as I am woefully behind on the current comic scene. The distribution model killed it for me. If there were still a shop, online or otherwise, offering an old-school pull list, I would still be getting 20+ titles a month, but as it is, I can’t tell you what is new or good. Everything has to be pre-ordered three months in advance from a sea of titles with five variant covers, all featuring the same guy standing slightly differently. I simply don’t have the patience.

I go to a comic shop once a month and buy whatever looks interesting, but I usually end up buying way more old stuff than new. At this point, I spend more time digging through long boxes than actually reading comics, which I think technically makes me an archaeologist. There are insanely talented artists making comics, and I’m throwing no shade at them, but I do not personally enjoy digital coloring. A comic made today versus a comic from the ’80s is a no-brainer for me. The old stuff looks like nicotine, bad decisions, and gasoline fumes, which is apparently exactly what I want from art.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

The Earth was the center of the universe, with everything else revolving around it, until Nicolaus Copernicus came around. The Earth was flat until 1521. Until the 19th century, we thought meat magically made maggots. In the time of Ptolemy, our eyes supposedly worked like flashlights, emitting rays of light instead of receiving them. In the 18th century, aether was considered the most important substance in existence, filling all that empty space. Miasma caused disease. Before the advent of trains, people thought they would suffocate if they traveled faster than 30mph because they wouldn’t be able to breathe the rushing air. Mercury disinfected, helped constipation, and even cured syphilis. In the mid-19th century, you could apparently place dirty underwear in a bucket with some wheat and create mice through “spontaneous generation”. Humanity really spent a shocking amount of time looking at horrible ideas and going, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

I could go on and on, but the point is the world has always been crazy as fuck. It’s a full-on crazy town right now for sure, but is it more surreal than chucking my dirty drawers and some Cheerios in a bucket to “make” mice?

It’s unstable, but it always has been. Existence is unstable by nature. That’s what makes it interesting, or at least that’s what makes it interesting to me. The world around me does not influence my art to the same degree that a movie from 1976 might or what I find in my dreams.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

I don’t know, man. Civilization was here long before me, long before my country, and I imagine it will still be kicking along just fine after I, and my country, have gone the way of the dinosaur. Human beings have survived plagues, wars, famines, and disco. We’re apparently very hard to get rid of.

However, I do worry about the loss of physical media. It was music first, then films and books are next. I fear for a future where we can no longer support an artist by purchasing a piece of art but only buy a temporary license from a billionaire to claim it’s ours for a moment. I get the irony of complaining about the digital age while selling art on the internet using my smartphone, but I’m still creating physical art. I think we all need to be.

What has been the greatest moment in your life so far?

The greatest moments in my art career are happening right now. I’m getting to work with literally my favorite noir writer, Anthony Neil Smith, and while I can’t reveal the projects, I can say they are the coolest things I’ve ever had the opportunity to work on. Very few people get to work with those who inspire them. I count myself lucky to say that I do. Honestly, if that 11-year-old me could see this, he’d probably assume I was lying or had become significantly cooler than I actually am.

I think, for me, the goal in life is to be able to say that when death comes, the best moments you’ve lived happened earlier that afternoon. For the first time, I can say that’s true.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I don’t think I would name one specific challenging time. Life hasn’t always been kind to me. I think that darkness pulled me toward noir and toward art that feels gritty. I don’t draw soft things. There’s a bitterness in me. I’m prone to saying “fuck off” to everyone who isn’t me, and honestly, I’m still trying to unlearn that. My natural instinct in social situations is somewhere between “leave me alone” and “I should probably move to a cabin in the woods.”

I am open on Substack about the fact that I’m autistic, and that comes with its own challenges in this industry. People are difficult for me. Interpreting their intentions, or even their enthusiasm for my artwork, is sometimes hard. I’m not naturally a people person.

But I think the challenges have taught me empathy in a strange way. I may not always understand people easily, but I understand what it feels like to feel isolated, misunderstood, or out of step with the world, and I think that comes through in my work.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

The reality is that I’m a father. I have two genuinely great kids, and I work my ass off for them. Through the day, I am making lunches, doing laundry, and listening to hormonal breakdowns. Honestly, some days I’m not entirely sure whether I’m raising children or negotiating peace treaties. I want them to have the best life possible and to know that their dad lived for them.

But the reality of that is that art gets done after bedtime. That means there are a lot of nights where I am sketching or painting (I’m an oil painter by trade) into the early hours. I wouldn’t have it any other way, but it’s not easy. I’ve been an independent artist for a couple of decades. The lights staying on is directly related to my creative ambitions. Life and art are intertwined for me.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

My first instinct wouldn’t be to point toward myself. I have to be honest, I find self-promotion difficult. I’d suggest people check out some of the insanely talented people I’ve restacked first. I’ve mentioned Anthony Neil Smith earlier, but I legitimately am a fan. I don’t know what work he will have released by the time this article runs, but at the very least the Billy Lafitte bookmarks are there, and likely more cool things will have dropped. He is literally the reason I came to Substack through his IG. The stuff that is coming soon is some of my proudest work. Honestly, talking about myself this much already feels like I need to go lie down in a dark room for a while.

I also love Kim Allison’s work; I like the darkness in her writing. The work I have done with Kim is definitely something I would encourage people to check out. I really enjoy the intensity and passion in her writing, and I think my dark style has complemented the excellent pieces I had the opportunity to work on.

As for myself, I don’t really have one piece I rate above the others. I’ve done some really cool work with some really cool people, and readers will find that on there. However, if you want the truth, I said earlier that what drew me toward noir was that it was full of sex and violence. I love that gritty, dark stuff. On May 14th, I posted an article titled “NSFW Smut Post,” and frankly, that’s what I’d tell you to check out. I like dark, grimy drawings that aren’t safe and that make people a little uncomfortable. If you don’t like it, it’s not for you, that’s cool. I draw many different things, but I like it when art gets a little edgy and a little sleazy.

So, if you’re checking out my page, look for my restacks of the work I’ve done with a multitude of talented writers.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

“We could all be happy and fulfilled if we only had the guts to be truly free and the wisdom to shrink our egos and quit taking ourselves so damn seriously.”

— Tom Robbins

“Don’t walk in front of me, I may not follow.

Don’t walk behind me, I may not lead.

Just walk beside me and be my friend.”

— Albert Camus

If Steven’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out his art. There’s a lot more going on over there than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Steven’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Steven a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss artificial intelligence, software development, emergent storytelling, optimism, history, technological disruption, the future of civilisation, and why the last eighty years may have been the most fortunate period in human history.

The author:

David T Etheredge is the 59.9 year old founder of a tech company by day and an author working on Inference, his first serial novel, by night. He has been happily married for 20 years and has a 14 year old adopted Siberian Husky rescue named Juneau. David was raised by a one-armed rattlesnake hunter, does not believe in vegetables and once worked on a rom-com directed by Arnold Schwarzenegger. Rumors that David stabbed a man in Mexico are almost certainly untrue.

Thanks for doing this interview, David. I really enjoyed reading Inference. What struck me most wasn’t just the scale of the story, but the amount of thought and research that clearly underpins it.

Where does that breadth of knowledge come from? Are you someone who naturally falls down research rabbit holes, or did you deliberately immerse yourself in a range of different disciplines before you felt ready to write it?

A lot of the esoteric knowledge in Inference is tech related and I’ve spent over 30 years designing and developing software. So I come by much of my “techxpertise” honestly from my career.

But, readers of Inference know that every chapter includes at least one epigraph quoting real news stories or published comments from experts about AI. These epigraphs show the unpredictable and emergent nature of how AI is impacting the world we (and the characters) are living in. They force me to research what’s happening in AI before I write each chapter and to re-think my prior assumptions with every new chapter I publish.

Luckily, I have AI to help me with research and resources like Substack and YouTube where I can find experts who are happy to explain anything about AI/tech that I don’t understand.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Inference is an exploration of what the emergence of AI means to both humanity and to these entities we have given birth too. I have character bibles and story plot arcs mapped out for a trilogy, but the actual journey itself has been emergent. I don’t know how each character will respond to the real life news as it is happening. So the characters are almost literally, telling me their story. I know that’s sort of abstract and hand wavy, so I’ll give you my favorite example.

In Chapter 9, Atlas-09 (an AI in a robot built by General Dynamics) meets Marcus, who is a line worker at the auto assembly plant where he works. Marcus is in a wheelchair, which Atlas analyzes as being a less efficient than having legs. Atlas calculates his legs cost 100x more than the wheelchair and ergo the company must value Atlas’s productivity 100x more than they do Marcus.

I didn’t start out to write a scene about the risks of businesses arbitrarily undervaluing human workers relative to AI, but Atlas-09 took the scene there by simply looking at the world through his own unique lens. Each character in Inference regularly teaches me new things about the relationship between humans and AI, and strangely enough between humans as well.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

Tolkien for worldbuilding. Brust for character perspective and voice. Neal Stephenson for how to approach historical fiction. Pratchett for humor. Pinker for philosophy. My dad for work ethic. My mom for respect and care for others.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

Discoverability has always been the biggest problem for writers and readers both. Walk into any bookstore and pick ten books at random. Seven to ten of them are going to disappoint you. That’s not new, it’s always been true. The slop was already here before AI.

What’s changing is that AI’s contextual search capabilities combined with indy publishing platforms like Substack can connect the right readers to the right writers at scale, without having to go through gatekeepers like publishing houses. I think we’re closer to that than people realize.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

As a student of history, I feel better about where we are than most.

What we are seeing today with illiberalism, public corruption and a decline in civility seems insane and horrific to us because the last 80 - 90 years since the end of WWII has delivered such extraordinary social, technological and scientific advances. Our entire context of the world is rooted in unprecedented prosperity. So yes, it is surreal and unpredictable relative to what we’ve all personally experienced in our lifetime.

But even with COVID and the rise of authoritarianism and the advent of toxic social media, the past decade is inarguably superior to any decade in human history prior to 1950 from a pure analysis of increased access to knowledge, freedom of personal choice, reduced risk of experiencing personal violence and extended healthy life expectancy.

Relative to 99.9999999% of all humans who’ve ever lived, we are well and truly blessed.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilization?

I hope that mankind will use the awesome capabilities of AI and other technological advances to reduce unnecessary and preventable suffering worldwide. My fear is ordinary people will become so jaded and demoralized by the behavior of rich and powerful bad actors that we will stop trying.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

The first time I had a reader “in the wild” positively respond to my first chapter of Inference ranks right up there. But the greatest moment would have to be shipping my first computer game (Magic the Gathering: PC in 1997) as Producer and Lead Designer after 3+ years of software development with Sid Meier and the rest of the team at Microprose games.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

My father died of throat cancer a few years ago. I sat in the hospital ICU with him for two weeks while he was trying to recover from surgery. He suffered from ICU Delirium (look it up, you’ll be stunned) and I believe that his later death was due to preventable flaws in our health care system. I learned that bad things often happen not because of evil, but due to institutional indifference.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

With a wife and a full-time job, it’s hard to find the time required to write. Every chapter of Inference takes me about 30 hours of work to conceptualize, draft, edit and publish. If I wasn’t enjoying the writing process more than any of my other hobbies, I don’t think I’d be able to do it.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

Chapter 1 of Inference, but with a caveat. I’m just getting started as an author and I believe my writing has improved significantly since I wrote the first chapter of Inference. I believe my best work starts with Chapter 3 when Gemini-Prime uses Genie to travel back in time (figuratively) to experience the Crucifixion. If readers will give the story 3 - 5 chapters of their time before deciding if the story works for them, then I’d be grateful.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

I set aside a few minutes every day to scan notes on Substack and like / comment on anything that makes me smile or laugh. I call this Mood-Scrolling and it helps me get through my days with a more positive attitude. It’s my small way of pushing back against the Doom.

Also thank you to all the readers of Inference. You make it easier for me to write the next word.

If David’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out Inference. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of David’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give David a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss creativity, fatherhood, financial struggle, modern literature, artificial intelligence, hope, resilience, finding material in life’s setbacks, and why a cheap notebook and a #2 pencil might be all you really need.

The author:

Zack Harmes was named after a cowboy, and was raised in a nowhere town in Colorado. In high school, he was accepted to the Iowa Young Writers Studio. He took first place in Story Unlikely’s annual short fiction contest, and was a short listed author for the H.G. Wells Award. He’s a father of six and has been married for 12 years. His musings can be found on Substack. Zack was last seen piloting a speeding starship, in a running gunfight with the Interstellar Revenue Service, somewhere in the Ford Galaxy.

Thanks for doing this interview, Zack.

I really enjoyed reading your work. Each piece felt carefully crafted, with a strong irreverent streak running throughout. Where do you think that impulse comes from?

I’m so glad to hear you enjoyed it. That means a lot. I’m a firm believer in “first thought = best thought”. I think every person knows intuitively exactly what they want to say, that the thought forms before they have a chance to doubt themselves. I think any editing done after the fact doesn’t change the original “first thought”, the essence of it, but is only a refining of what that thought was. How to make it clearer and land harder. I think while the language of first drafts will–and should–change, the message should stay strong, because it was there before anything else was.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

I’d like people to read the things I write and see a reflection of something that they, too, have noticed. I would tell my readers that if they ever think the world is absurd, they are not the only ones noticing it. They are not crazy. I’d like my fiction to serve as a reminder that my readers are not alone in their experiences, whatever they may be.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

There are three that had the biggest impact. They were my teachers at the Iowa Young Writers Studio in June 2009.

Madeline McDonnell told me something that impacted all of my future work. She said, “A sad story is sadder when it’s just a little bit funny, and a funny story is funnier when it’s just a little bit sad.”

Vinnie Wilhelm taught me that there is material in every life experience, no matter how uncomfortable and unpleasant that experience may be.

Nick Dybek was the last person I saw. He dropped me off at the airport and called after me, “Don’t ever lose your sense of humor.”

All of these writers have books out in the world, and I encourage everyone I meet to read them.

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

There are people out there pushing boundaries of what is possible, exploring genres and blending elements into incredible stories. The rise of more “literary” graphic novels, for example, is something I’m incredibly excited about. It’s not just superheroes anymore. People are using that medium to blend both literature and visual art into its own unique product. As far as books go–good ones are out there. Powerful ones are out there. They just might not have a 6-figure marketing deal, so it’s important to shine a light on talent once it is found.

And what about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

Incredibly strange. It’s one large panic attack with commercial breaks selling medication for panic attacks. The introduction of artificial intelligence, the exposure of corruption over the past seventy years, economic strife. It’s a real bummer. I feel a desire to slow down. To take a breather. I’ve said that lately writing fiction feels more like a mental health exercise in the fact that when I’m writing a story, I know what happens next. Any surprises I encounter are welcome. That’s not the case for reality.

I still encourage people to have hope, but hope without action is only a dream. Potential unrealized. If I gave anyone any advice, it would be this: use the tools you have, and help as many people as you can.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

I have a lot of hope in Gen Z and Gen Alpha, actually. Not many people say that. I see the younger generations looking at established routines and asking, “Why do we have to do it this way? Why do we have to work sixty hours a week just to pay bills?” It’s a rebellion of attitudes. Questions are being asked, and alternative methods are being proposed. This gives me incredible hope. As a father and mentor I try to encourage that. You’ll never hear me say, “Well, we’ve always done it this way.”

I fear standards of living will be so difficult to achieve that most people will be too tired to even try to change things. Everything in the world is focused on separating a person from their spare time, one subscription at a time. If the future is a terrible dystopia, it will come with corporate sponsors.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

There’s been a few, and they all have to do with my kids. One of my daughters won “The Most Kind Hearted Kid Award” in kindergarten. It felt like I was doing this fatherhood thing right. Watching my sons work their jobs and take pride in being dependable. Watching my kids copy my good habits. There’s no single definitive moment, but I think my greatest work lies in them.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I’ve been down and out so many times in my life. Three days ‘til payday, twenty dollars in my pocket, and a nearly empty fridge. That’s real fear. I’ve always had one more card up my sleeve, one more Hail Mary to throw. I’ve always pulled it off. I’ve learned to never give up no matter what stands in your way, and to face your problems head-on.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I really focused on turning off the TV. I try to avoid sitting on the couch unless I am writing in my notebook. I place writing and drawing as my number one hobbies–the things I’d always prefer to be doing. The only thing I will interrupt my writing for is my family. I’ve stopped mid-scene to teach my daughter how to drive, to go swimming with my youngest ones, or to go on a walk with my wife. My ambitions are family, then art, then everything else. My words will outlive any production-quota I might achieve at work, and it is far more fulfilling than any career I could stumble into.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

Hell’s Greatest Dad is probably the clearest look into my style and who I am at my core. It is balanced with my humor and my personality, and draws from a lot of experiences in my life. It’s sentimental to me, and I wrote it at a very critical time. I’m proud of it.

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

You can do all the things you want to do. You don’t need permission. You don’t need an MFA. You can do it right at this very moment. The world needs your voice, your insight, and the sum total of your experiences. You might not make a difference with a cheap notebook and a #2 pencil, but then again….you just might.

If Zack Harmes’ answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out Hell’s Greatest Dad. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of Zack’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give Zack a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

In this interview, we discuss the importance of entertainment in fiction, finding empathy for villains, the state of modern literature, the promises and dangers of AI, resilience, fatherhood, and why history has left him more optimistic about the future than many of his contemporaries.

The author:

West Johnson is an older millennial from Southern California who enjoys amateur writing. He is writing a Western saga that takes place in Southern California during the 1910s and 1920s centering around a loose collection of underworld characters. Its themes involve race and class violence set within the noir genre. He Hath a Cunning Plan is the story of a Buffalo soldier and corrupt officers of the U.S. Army colliding in the Mexican desert while they hunt for Pancho Villa and Mormon renegades.

Thanks for doing this interview, West.

I really enjoyed reading your work. It carries with it a beautifully bleak and melancholic atmosphere while at the same time remaining thoroughly entertaining. Where exactly does that sensibility come from?

I write what I want to read. I write first to entertain. My favorite form of art is an artistic genre work, such as Colson Whitehead’s Harlem Shuffle (Noir) or Emily St. Mandel’s Sea of Tranquility (Science Fiction). Familiar tropes with artistic care.

That leads into my next question—what’s the core aim of your fiction? What are you trying to make the reader feel, confront, or experience? What gap are you trying to fill?

Entertainment. And, a close second: empathy with the character, especially when the character commits villainous acts. My favorite book(s) is Hilary Mandel’s Wolf Hall Trilogy. Thomas Cromwell is a villain to history and literature, but Mandel makes him a humanist, while keeping us laughing and terrified along the way. I like stories that make me question my certainties.

As a writer, who are your biggest influences?

• Terrence Malick (Film Director, The Thin Red Line, Tree of Life)

• Thomas Cromwell (Protagonist of The Wolf Hall Trilogy)

• Ulysses S. Grant (Civil War General, President of the United States, and Author)

• Everquest (Mass Multiplayer Roleplaying Game in the 2000s)

• Sean McVay (Head Coach of the Los Angeles Rams)

What’s your opinion on modern literature as it currently stands?

It’s never been better. I read about one hundred books annually and there is an endless supply of outstanding literature from all walks of life. Art has become more democratic in its creation and distribution. Media and technology will continue to allow more people to tell their stories who would otherwise never have had the opportunity.

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What about the age we live in more broadly? Does the world feel stranger to you lately? More unstable? More surreal?

I am a history major so this colors my viewpoint. I am also American, which privileges my experience. That said, we live in incredibly optimistic times. So much of what I dreamed as a kid or watched in movies or read in books is coming to fruition in my lifetime. For those that view the world as unstable, I understand, and, I feel that history has always presented as terrifying, especially depending on your position in society.

What are your biggest hopes and fears for the future of our civilisation?

I hope AI will give people with disabilities greater opportunities. I fear that technology will place those that harness it so far from the violence they commit that it will bring about an ultimate violence.

What’s the greatest moment in your life been so far?

Easy. Marriage and children. No contest.

What’s the most challenging one been? And what did you learn from it?

I was a public leader during COVID. It was awful and almost broke me. And, I learned I had another reserve of resilience I did not know I had.

How do you balance your creative ambitions with the rest of your life?

I am an obsessive tracker. I keep weekly goals and track progress for learning a language, being a dad, reading, not cursing, writing, exercise and the list goes on. It’s kind of weird, but effective.

If someone discovered you through this interview, what’s the one piece you’ve posted on Substack that you’d point them toward first?

He Hath a Cunning Plan. Read it because you will be entertained. Or your money back!

Alright—you get the last word. How would you like to sign off? What would you want to say to the people reading this?

Knowing someone enjoyed He Hath a Cunning Plan is the best gift I’ve received this year. I believe in paying it forward. If you would like me to read your story, please email me at westjohnsonauthor@gmail.com.

If West Johnson’s answers resonated with you, be sure to subscribe to his Substack and do go check out He Hath a Cunning Plan. There’s a lot more going on beneath the surface than we could ever cover in a single interview.

Besides, now it’s your turn.

Which of West’s answers struck you hardest? Which did you agree with? Which did you disagree with? And what question do you wish I’d asked?

Drop your thoughts below and let’s give West a proper grilling in the comments. ↓

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