Stories That Linger: Award-Eligible Titles for 2026
Two original stories from Taylen Carver—Roots of the Storm and Sylvalight—are eligible for the 2026 Hugo, Nebula, Aurora, and Dragon Awards. If you’re nominating this year, here are the details.
Two original stories from Taylen Carver—Roots of the Storm and Sylvalight—are eligible for the 2026 Hugo, Nebula, Aurora, and Dragon Awards. If you’re nominating this year, here are the details.
Wales has been haunting my stories for years — not literally (though that would be on-brand), but mythically. From the Mabinogion to my Welsh grandfather’s voice, the land and legend of Cymru have steeped themselves into my writing. If you’ve read Magorian & Jones, you’ve heard the echoes. And no, I don’t plan to stop.
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.