With rumors swirling about The Rings of Power’s potential cancellation, I’m wondering if it’s not a quality issue—but a saturation one. Are lush, expensive fantasy series struggling simply because there’s too much content and too little attention to go around?
This weekend, the four hobbits of Lord of the Rings fame are reuniting at Edmonton EXPO, and while thousands are lining up for a few seconds of face time, I’m staying home with the extended editions and some decent takeout. In a world of high-speed, low-contact fandom, is the convention experience still worth it?
The four hobbits from Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings films are reuniting at Fan Expo Edmonton—and I may get the chance to interview one of them. Who would you choose to talk to: Frodo, Sam, Merry, or Pippin? Here’s who I’d pick (and why).
“For all the orcs, angels, hobgoblins, and water leapers running around, so much of the tension in Magorian & Jones boils down to this: how easy it is to lose track of what it means to be human—and how hard it is to earn it back.”
Discover the real-world science behind mother trees and how forests heal us—plus how these ideas inspired the magical woodlands in Roots of the Storm and beyond.
Fantasy is booming—and not just for Gen Z. Whether you’re swooning over dragon-riding romantasy or savoring the quiet charm of a magical coffee shop, the genre is exploding with new titles. But with the tidal wave of new releases comes reader overwhelm, quality dilution, and trend fatigue. How do you navigate the boom without burning out? By refining your taste, following trusted curators, and embracing the magic that speaks to you.
You know the feeling: you open your email and the unread counter just says “999+” because the program can’t count any higher. You scroll—and scroll—and scroll—only to see repeat subject lines from people who’ve pinged you three times because you never answered the first one. Maybe you’ve just come back from holiday, maybe a life-event set the world texting and emailing you, or maybe you simply haven’t wrangled your inbox in a while. Whatever the cause, you’ve got a big, sick-making inbox on your hands.
I adored Season 1 of The Last of Us—not because it echoed the game (I’ve never dared touch the game), but because it gave us that rare, aching dynamic: a broken man given one last chance to do right, and a broken girl who just might live through it. Then Season 2 came along and killed Joel with a golf club. In Episode 2. And just like that, the show lost its soul.
Ah, “high production costs.” The new “it’s not you, it’s me” of the streaming world.
First it was Andor, quietly sliced from five seasons to two. Now it’s The Wheel of Time, which spun valiantly for three seasons on Prime Video before the thread was abruptly severed—despite critical acclaim and a devout fanbase. “Too expensive,” they say. “Too complex.” As if they didn’t know, going in, that adapting a sprawling 14-book fantasy epic might require some…commitment?
So, I’ve been in a bit of a spiral lately. You know how it goes. You start off with “What happens if the economy tanks?” and four hours later, you’re elbow-deep in a John Michael Greer blog post about catabolic collapse and wondering if it’s time to start hoarding seeds.
