Kevin Kelly’s latest essay introduced me to a concept I hadn’t quite considered before: the “exoself.” Not a humanoid robot, but an AI that becomes an extension of our own minds through memory, context, and continuity. The more I thought about it, the more I realized we may already be taking the first steps toward that future—one useful conversation at a time.
Canada Day always reminds me how many of my favourite science fiction writers turn out to be Canadian. From celebrated authors to passionate fandom and the Aurora Awards, Canada has quietly made an outsized contribution to speculative fiction—and it’s a legacy I’m proud to be part of.
Ridley Scott is one of those directors whose films automatically move to the top of my watch list. But after the disappointment of Gladiator II, I’m approaching his return to science fiction with a little more caution than usual. Based on the trailer for The Dog Stars, though, there are plenty of reasons for optimism—from its apparent focus on human relationships to Scott’s long history of creating unforgettable science fiction worlds.
National Eat Vegetables Day may seem like an unlikely inspiration for a science fiction discussion, but current debates about meat consumption raise fascinating questions about the future. As health concerns, environmental pressures, and changing social attitudes converge, SF readers are uniquely positioned to ask where these trends might lead. Will meat remain a permanent feature of human civilization, or will future generations view it as an outdated and unsustainable practice?
Every reader matters, no matter where they buy our books. But direct sales give independent publishers something special: the ability to invest more in new stories, create exclusive editions, and build stronger relationships with readers. Here’s why buying direct makes such a difference.
Modern smartphones have become surprisingly capable astronomy cameras, making it easier than ever to capture stars, planets, and even the Milky Way. But the real appeal isn’t the technology—it’s the experience of looking up at the night sky and connecting with the vast universe beyond our everyday concerns. For science fiction readers, photographing the cosmos can be a powerful reminder of why we look to the stars in the first place.
For years, science fiction seemed determined to convince us the future would be smaller, darker, and more cynical than the present. But readers never actually abandoned space opera. They still wanted starships, exploration, galactic civilizations, and futures worth fighting for. Now, as film, television, and publishing slowly rediscover large-scale science fiction, it feels like space opera is finally stepping back into the spotlight — jet packs and all.
Finding a genuinely good book is becoming harder—not because great stories no longer exist, but because readers are being buried under rushed, low-quality content designed to game algorithms instead of move people. At Stories Rule Press, every book is still built the old-fashioned way: by real authors who care deeply about storytelling, characters, and giving readers an experience worth remembering.
The new Dune 3 trailer should have filled me with anticipation. Instead, it left me uneasy. Not because Denis Villeneuve lacks skill as a filmmaker—far from it—but because the films seem determined to undercut Paul Atreides’ triumph before it ever truly lands. Which raises a larger question: Have modern storytellers become afraid of heroic endings? From Dune to grimdark fantasy to prestige science fiction, modern stories increasingly distrust hope, sincerity, and unapologetic victory. But is that really what audiences want—or simply what the industry keeps giving them?
Why has “agentic AI” suddenly become the term everyone’s using? What looks like an overnight trend is really the visible edge of a rapid shift—from passive tools to systems that can act, decide, and iterate. For science fiction readers, it’s a familiar moment: the future we’ve long imagined beginning to take shape, with all the promise—and unease—that implies.
