(See the bottom of this post for an announcement about our special sale, now with free shipping!)

January is usually a productive month for me. As the year draws to a close, I begin reflecting, thinking ahead, and working to improve habits. As the new year dawns, I begin implementing new habits (or committing to the changes already in progress) and deciding where I want my focus to lie during the year. I do all this while enjoying the quiet first few days of January, doing lots of reading, and pulling myself away from the day-to-day distractions I far too often indulge.

This year I managed to make myself a fairly long list of goals, which may not be the wisest decision. As with many people, I have a habit of starting my resolutions strong and then fading down the stretch; even by spring, it’s not uncommon for me to have largely forgotten about any resolutions and to be slipping back into old habits. Still, typically some things stick and, of course, I find time to reflect and make changes and adjustments at other times throughout the year, not just at its beginning. And when that new year rolls around during each calendar, it’s not uncommon for me to make some resolution that is a variant on one I’ve made many times before. It’s something of a natural process: a slow learning that takes place over years, not all at once on January 1st.

My resolutions in 2018 span a spectrum of subjects and categories, and I won’t go into all of them for fear of boring you. However, I want to mention one, as I feel it is a resolution that relates directly to some of the themes of Into the Ruins. Where my wife and I live in the city, we are lucky enough to have a shared backyard with a small amount of space for gardening. Those of you who read my editorial introductions or have otherwise followed me over time likely well know that I spent a number of years working on a variety of farms, including organic vegetable farms, and that I garden each year–though with varying levels of success. Last year, I expanded our home gardening from a single garden bed into a partly fenced off area that used to serve as a chicken run, but that had been abandoned to weeds (and sadly, regular spraying with glyphosate) for a number of years. In 2016, we convinced the landlord to stop the lawn maintenance people from spraying and last year I started to redeem the long-abused, dead earth chicken run. I dug in a couple new beds, turned in compost and organic fertilizer, and planted tomatoes, peppers, summer squash, basil, and cucumbers.

I did this largely because I wanted more space in which to garden and wanted to grow more food, but I did it also with the desire to rehabilitate this small patch of ground that had been so abused over the years. Rather than a stretch of dirt lying mostly bare, dotted by scraggly weeds, I wanted to bring back a greater life to it. In my digging, I found that weed cloth had been laid down sometime back, so I pulled that up to get to the real earth beneath, turning the duff on top of the cloth into it and adding in compost. The ground was hard and packed, devoid of worms, a far cry from a picture of health. My hope is that my small work would do some good.

I have yet to dig back into that soil to see what is happening now, but the garden I planted there did very well for the most part, the tomatoes and squash thriving in particular. It heartened me to see that returned life, and I enjoyed the good eating we did over the course of the summer, even harvesting zucchini into late November.

I plan to once again plant in there this summer, but getting an earlier start this year. And that’s where my resolution comes in. Last year, I began the process of rehabilitating that small bit of land; this year, I want to do better. I hope to open up a bit more earth in there, but more importantly, I want to take a greater care in my gardening this year. My resolution here is to plant more flowers, for starters, to create both greater beauty and more pollinator habitat. I also would like to plant a greater diversity of crops, to get an earlier start, and to rotate more. Already, my wife and I have been looking through seed catalogs, scheming about what we want to grow and which flowers to plant.

At the end of the day, that small bit of soil is a small resolution, and my efforts to bring it back to life are a tiny mark in an incredibly large world. But as I argue time and again, we can only make the larger world into what we know it needs to be—healthy, vibrant, far less abused by us humans—by making changes at the individual level. That’s the only way that we can foster and implement changes at the larger level, and its the only way our leaders will realize they must reinforce and help facilitate those changes or risk losing their jobs. Without dedication, conviction, and persistence in our personal lives, cultural and societal changes will never happen by choice and will.

And so, I ask you readers for something small: a contribution to Into the Ruins that may help to inspire others. What do you resolve to do in the new year to help make the world a better place? How do you plan to help? What do your small (or big!) efforts look like? I asked this question last year and received some interesting answers; it seems to me that it’s worth making a tradition. I will ask it somewhat less specifically this year—your answers may be broad in the subjects they touch and small or large in the actions taken and they do not have to be specifically focused on conservation or mitigation. Let them fit the theme of Into the Ruins one way or another, but the changes we need to make are many, and they don’t have to be explicitly focused on sustainability, ecology, energy, the environment, or so on. They may be about kindness or community, for we will need that in the hard times ahead. They may be about learning or wisdom, for we’ll need that, too. Or they may just be about bringing one happiness in a world that too often seems to bring the opposite.

All letters will be considered for publication in future issues of Into the Ruins, unless otherwise noted. You can give your thoughts with a comment on this blog post, by emailing me directly at editor@intotheruins.com, or by mailing a real letter to Figuration Press / 3515 SE Clinton Street / Portland, OR 97202.

So let’s hear it: What are your plans for 2018? In what small way do you hope to help rehabilitate the world? Share your thoughts and help spread those small changes.

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Back Issue Sale: Now with Free Shipping!

Help me clear some inventory! Our back issue sale just got even better: it now comes with free shipping. Until the end of January, all six back issues of Into the Ruins are on sale for just $10 and come with free shipping! Fill out your collection, grab some gifts, seed your hometown with randomly placed copies of the magazine–whatever you want!

And have you picked up the newest, Fall 2017 issue? If not, grab it today with free shipping! It’s an excellent issue, if I do say so myself. I don’t think you’ll want to miss it.

 

I will be joining Randy Powers on his Practical Prepping. Period podcast this Wednesday, December 6th at 9pm EST to talk live about Into the Ruins, deindustrial science fiction, the future of industrial civilization, organic gardening and farming, and whatever other subjects may pop up. With luck, this will be a fun and wide-ranging conversation—and I’ll manage to come up with a few interesting things to say.

You can either listen live or download the podcast after it airs for listening at your leisure. You can find full info at the Facebook event page or directly at the Blog Talk Radio website.

I hope you’ll listen in!

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Don’t forget! The new Fall 2017 issue of Into the Ruins is now available for sale and our limited time back issue sale continues, with all six back issues of the magazine now available for just $10 each! Complete your collection or pick up back issues for gifts this holiday season.

(See the P.S. at the bottom of this post to learn more about our limited time back issue sale!)

I’m pleased to announce that the seventh issue of Into the Ruins is shipping to subscribers and is now available for purchase! This Fall 2017 issue runs 108 pages, featuring five excellent new stories from authors returning and new, as well as an Editor’s Introduction, letters to the editor, and a closing editorial on autonomous vehicles, robots, and disemployment.

In this seventh issue of Into the Ruins, new worlds emerge from all corners of the globe, revealing the futures awaiting us on the far side of climate change and civilizational decline. Anchorage has transformed itself into the newest boom town in America, growing recklessly fast but hiding dark secrets. Meanwhile, in Antarctica, a dramatically changed climate has revealed the world’s newest frontier. A man travels through the treacherous swamps of Florida, searching out a place to start a new life, while another man fleeing from past deeds finds a strange welcome in a dusty church. Another traveler meets a sly stranger on the trail and soon finds himself in a battle of wits that could prove the difference between riches and misery.

These new worlds are neither apocalyptic nor dystopian, but instead a fascinating mix of new and old, well past many of the troubles of our times and struggling with new troubles of their own. These stories offer fascinating and fun futures while recognizing that human folly rings eternal.

Subscribers will be receiving their issues in the coming days, with most already working their way through the mail system. (Are you a lapsed subscriber? Renew today!) Those of you who aren’t subscribers but would like a copy of the new issue, you can pre-order a copy here directly, which will be shipping in early December once I receive my sale copies. Alternately, you can order for immediate shipment from Amazon or you can purchase a digital edition of the issue at Payhip. For  international readers, you can go to the issue page for links to international Amazon sites it’s available through.

As always, I encourage readers to send their thoughts and feedback to me at editor@intotheruins.com, both as casual emails (rambling acceptable!) and as official letters to the editor that I can consider for publication in the seventh issue of Into the Ruins, scheduled for November. Comments for contributing authors will be happily forwarded on.

Now go read the issue and enjoy some fantastic deindustrial and post-peak science fiction!

— Joel Caris, Editor & Publisher

P.S. Don’t forget to take advantage of our back issue sale! All six back issues of the magazine are available for a limited time for just $10 each.  You can even bundle the new issue with discounted back issues, fill out your collection or pick up some gifts, and save on shipping. Don’t miss out!

It is something of an article of faith for me that I expect hard times in the coming decades. I would be pleased to be wrong, mind you, but I don’t expect I am. Of course, those hard times won’t be evenly distributed, just as they aren’t today, and some of us will struggle more than others while some of us will be more successful than others. Some of us will even see improvements in our lives—especially, I suspect, among those who are willing to hold a flexible definition of what is meant by “improvement.” But even those of us who see improvements, or who struggle less, will almost certainly be doing without many of the conveniences and commonalities of our time. More and more of us will have to make do without, learn cheaper and less intensive methods of accomplishing tasks, and outsource less of our lives. Some of the pleasures and comforts we take for granted today will not be available to us in the future. Times will change, and we will be forced to adapt.

That said, plenty of what we do or have today will remain available to us in the future. Not all will be lost, and not all that will be lost will be so in our lifetimes. Trying to guess what will stay and what will go is likely a fool’s game, but it’s a game I’m interested in playing today. And perhaps with some appropriate rules, it will be a bit less foolish than it might otherwise be.

So here’s my question for you: What won’t you lose in the coming years?

Given the likely consequences of climate change and other ecological destruction, a destabilized political and economic system, cultural upheaval, intermittent energy and resource shortages—or at least erratic pricing for such—and geopolitical upheaval leading to changes in national power and status and new wars that may touch us domestically, what pleasures, enjoyments, and habits do you expect not to lose in the coming decades?

To clarify further, the goal isn’t so much to guess what unsustainable part of your life today you think may hold out long enough for you not to lose it, or that you may stay well off enough to retain. Rather, I’m interested in learning what elements of your current life you believe are sustainable in the long run. What is it you take pleasure in doing right now that you think can survive disruption and upheaval, economic and political troubles, a backfiring ecosystem, and all the other troubles we’re likely to face?

In a sense, this post is a corollary to John Michael Greer’s “Seven Sustainable Technologies” post from 2014, and part of the idea is to critically examine what elements of our lives we believe we are least at risk of losing. While that may even involve some of the technologies on Greer’s list, this isn’t a question limited to technology itself; it’s also about our habits and pleasures, our work, our connections, the particulars of the individual worlds each of us lives in. I think there’s an importance, too, in understanding what we are least at risk of losing, to the degree that we can predict such things. In doing so, we can better understand where we might best place our efforts now, sinking them into activities and personal infrastructure that have the best chance of surviving deep into our futures, rather than being yanked out from beneath us.

Even better are things that bring you pleasure while also helping make your living. Gardening, of course, is an excellent example of this. It’s something that will be sustainable into the future (though any one individual still might find it cut off as an option, due to a variety of factors) and good gardening can help feed oneself or a family. As an activity that can bring pleasure and reduce one’s dependence on the superstructures of our society that may yet malfunction and crumble, it’s a prime example of something unlikely to be lost and worthy of increased attention and investment.

But what else? Chime in below or by emailing editor@intotheruins.com and tell us what you expect to persist. Make it personal, not a list, and don’t feel that it has to be something you believe will be sustainable for all. We all have our personal circumstances. Give us not just your answer, but some of the ways in which it weaves through your life today and brings you pleasure and fulfillment. Tell us why you think it will persist. Tell us how you think it will help you. Tell us why it makes you happy.

As you might expect, all answers will be considered for publication in a future issue of Into the Ruins as letters to the editor (unless explicitly stated that they are not to be considered). I hope this sparks a conversation. At a time of disruption, it’s important not just to focus on what might be lost, but on what will persist. Those things, after all, will be the basis of our ways forward. Imagining them is one of the primary purposes of Into the Ruins, and the things we are able to keep in the coming years will be the basis of the stories of our future. Let’s begin talking about them.

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Don’t miss our on our limited time sale on back issues! The first five issues of Into the Ruins are on sale for just $10 each. Click here for more information and to order!

Lately I’ve been diving into the somewhat recent Old Mars anthology. This collection features stories set on the Mars of science fiction’s old solar system—the Mars, that is, with a breathable (if often cold and thin) atmosphere, ancient canals and ruined cities, and a variety of strange alien life. As someone who did not read much science fiction as a child and has heretofore delved only lightly into the old solar system, the collection is proving quite fun, and leaving me excited to crack open the companion collection, Old Venus.

I came upon the anthology via John Michael Greer’s recent announcement of a new writing contest. Unlike many of his past contests—which have focused on deindustrial science fiction and, ultimately, proved the impetus for the founding of Into the Ruins—this one is focused on stories set in the old solar system: one teeming with strange life and accessible to human beings through a variety of fantastical means, in many ways unconcerned with technical feasibility as it relates to our current scientific knowledge. The stories set in this universe are proving a real joy to read, and it’s the lack of concern for our current understanding of our solar system that makes them so. Rather than a lifeless void dotted with lifeless planets, the solar system in these stories is filled with varying forms of life, offering stories that are as often as not part adventure, featuring strange new worlds that help get the imagination churning.

In case it’s not clear, I like this. Much of modern science fiction, frankly, is boring in its depictions of techno-utopias, techno-dystopias, and everything in between—so long as there’s a “techno” in front of it. The focus of the story is too often on the technology, and the technology is far too often some extrapolated version of what we have today. That’s not all that interesting—especially if, like me, you don’t find most of our current microprocessor-based gadgets all that interesting. I find life more enjoyable and more lively when such gadgets have a minimal presence in my life.

Similarly, I like my non-Earth planets filled with strange, beautiful landscapes and fascinating alien lifeforms. Based on what we know of the planets in our solar system, though, they aren’t. Mars is not filled with ancient canals, ruined cities, and bizarre Martians. It’s more a barren, lifeless desert with soil that probably kills bacteria, so far as we know, and devoid of the myriad life that makes being outside here on Earth a joy. I don’t mean to knock Mars—if it was simple to take a day trip to check it out, I would—but humans are exquisitely designed for and a product of only one planet with all it’s particulars and peculiarities, and that planet ain’t Mars (or Venus, or Saturn, or Jupiter . . .). It’s Earth. There’s a reason we like it here. It created us.

Given the reality of Mars (to the degree that we know it) and every other planet in our solar system, it’s only in fiction that traveling to these planets opens up thrilling adventures, fascinating discoveries of new forms of life, and sweeping landscapes that rival our own in their beauty. And it’s only in fiction that the dull, lifeless planets of our solar system are transformed into fantastical alternate versions of the one planet that we humans actually do know.

Of course, despite my enjoyment of this type of science fiction, such stories don’t really fit the focus of Into the Ruins. They aren’t set on earth and they don’t tend to follow the laws of the natural world as we best understand them. (Granted, I am open to flexibility on this point, as I don’t believe we fully understand how the natural world works and I’m a big believer in mystery, but I’m confident that Mars and Venus in reality are not the teeming worlds of science fiction past, and I’m furthermore confident that zipping around the solar system to these planets is something that we likely never will do and that, if we do, it will be a one- or two-off affair at best before we realize—consciously or not—that we simply can’t spare the energy and resources for such unnecessary and largely pointless excursions.) Despite this, though, I think they have something to teach science fiction writers, deindustrial and otherwise: unique worlds teeming with life are fascinating settings for a good tale, and worlds largely devoid of life are much less so.

How is that relevant to deindustrial science fiction? Well, to my mind, tales set in unique futures teeming with life are for more fascinating than airbrushed tales of the future dominated by microprocessor-driven gadgets and other technological artifacts. And futures depicting a linear extrapolation of current technology and the dominant political, economic, and social orders of today are not unique futures; they’re mostly just more of the same, both in terms of what we already know in our day-to-day lives and what so much of science fiction unimaginatively regurgitates in the pop culture of our time. That’s one of the reasons I started the magazine, to get different visions of the future out there. Another reason I started it was to publish tales in which humans are given their rightful place in the cosmos: as simply one more unique and compelling species on this planet, evolved out of the particular ecosystems found here over the planet’s life, a part of this world but not apart of this world, and with the ability to influence but not the ability to exert anything near total control over the natural world or our ultimate path within it. Much in the same way that I find adventures in the old solar system more compelling than adventures in the real solar system, tales taking place within this understanding and context are, for me, far more interesting than ones that suppose human control over the natural world.

What’s most exciting to me about these old solar system tales, though, is the ways in which they allow for a wide variety of visions, creatures, worlds, landscapes, and other creative and imaginative details not locked into some straight jacket of over-familiarity. Granted, no doubt this version of the old solar system has its own tropes and common themes that I’m sure were written into the ground throughout the decades of the subgenre’s dominance. But one of the joys in returning to them now is the stark contrast they provide to the dominant SF tropes of today, and the dizzying array of storytelling options available on planets with water and breathable atmospheres, as opposed to the lifeless deserts or otherwise hostile environments we now know them to be.

You know what other planet with water and a breathable atmosphere offers a dizzying array of storytelling options? The one we call home, of course. That, to me, is the eventual promise of deindustrial science fiction: the opportunity to break SF as commonly presented today out of its doldrums and unleash it into a future world that can—and almost certainly will—look nearly as alien as the planets of the old solar system. I don’t think we’re there yet, as many stories still have not moved past some of the already-established tropes of the emerging genre and it is still so hard for most of us stuck in the prison of our shockingly unimaginative culture to truly envision future cultures that look nothing like our own, use technologies as alien to us today as our current technologies would have been to someone living centuries or millennia past, organize themselves along economic and political lines that have yet to be thought of or invented, and interact with domestic and wild species yet to evolve. And yet, all those future possibilities are out there, and they all can exist within realistic natural limits.

The old solar system—and good deal of other forms of science fiction settings—have led to incredibly imaginative works from writers throughout our history. The future as imagined by science fiction has, too; it just so happens that many of those future imaginations—particularly more recent ones—not only won’t happen, but can’t happen due to the limitations and hard realities of the planet we live on and universe we live within. There are still, however, an incredible variety of futures yet to be imagined that could still happen within the limitations of our planet. Yet the vast majority of those futures have remained unexplored in science fiction because they don’t confirm to the computer-focused futures and the linear extrapolations of today’s realities that have come to dominate the genre.

It’s far past time to start exploring those futures, though. This is not only because those are the kinds of futures we actually are going to get, but that humane and functional futures that are feasible in the face of energy and resource constraints are far more likely to come to fruition if we begin imagining and exploring them through the creative avenues of our time. It’s also time to start exploring them because these are far more interesting futures than the ones that science fiction so often explore. I think there are fascinating future civilizations that will develop in the centuries and millennia to come, and I’d really love to read some good stories in which creative writers imagine those future civilizations and their distinctive and, to us, likely bizarre ways of understanding, knowing, and interacting with the world. Just as a great story set on a shockingly alien world is an exhilarating spark for the imagination, so too can a great story set in a shockingly alien, but still distinctly human, future right here on earth send the mind wheeling off in a thousand creative directions.

As Into the Ruins continues to develop and evolve, and the subgenre of deindustrial science fiction does the same, I hope to see more of these strange, stunning, alien futures come to the fore and emerge as creative forces from some of the many great writers in the world today. Minds set to unleash the possibilities of completely different forms of technology, different economic and political arrangements, new religious forms, different ways of living within and interacting with the broader world, and different ways of meeting basic needs, taking joy in life, and earning personal fulfillment could yet influence the course of history, opening up possibilities that seem unimaginable—or, more on point, currently are unimagined—in today’s world. There’s no reason we can’t begin discovering those futures today, and so I hope that those reading this will take the time to pick up a pen or fire up the word processor and begin imagining those futures.

And when you’re done, send it in. Whether as a full fledged story or a letter to the editor, let’s start getting the ideas out there, and start imagining the real futures facing us, and the exhilarating possibilities those futures hold.

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Visit our introductory page for special offers on Into the Ruins.

I’m pleased to announce that the sixth issue of Into the Ruins is shipping to subscribers and is now available for purchase! This Summer 2017 issue features five excellent new stories from authors returning and new, as well as an extended Editor’s Introduction and a host of letters to the editor.

A doctor journeys southwest from New York and finds a small community terrorized by religious fanatics. Two children follow a witch into the woods—and discover the dark secrets of the former nation they call home. A young woman chafes against the future lined out for her by others, then sets out in search of a very different kind of life. A man spends years monitoring a small river until one day a hard choice is forced upon him. And sudden, desperate visitors force the leaders of a small town to weigh a threat at the edge of their borders.

In this sixth issue of Into the Ruins, journeys and revelations abound. Ordinary people caught up in the complex web of civilizational collapse must make hard decisions, determine who to trust, and open themselves to life-altering discoveries. They travel the land in hopes of finding new lives and helping those in need—and in the process, unveil the hard and complicated futures coming for us, beset with the consequences of our current society’s destruction and excess.

Subscribers should be receiving their issues within the next week or two. However, many of you have yet to renew your subscription. Please renew today if you haven’t already! (Or use this direct PayPal link if you’re a U.S. subscriber.) For those renewing, I’ll get the sixth issue (plus any previous ones you hadn’t already received) shipped off to you ASAP upon renewal and your subscription will continue on into the future, ensuring you never miss an issue. If you aren’t sure or can’t remember if you’ve already renewed or if your subscription has expired, feel free to contact me to confirm.

Okay, with that out of the way, for those who aren’t ready to subscribe but who would like to check out the sixth issue anyway, you can order a copy here to peruse at your pleasure. In addition to ordering directly at the previous link, you can order from Amazon or CreateSpace, or you can purchase a digital edition of the issue at Payhip. For Canadian readers, the issue should be available soon on Amazon’s Canada site. For other international readers, you can go to the issue page for links to international Amazon sites it’s available at or for a link to order directly from CreateSpace, which ships throughout the world.

As always, I encourage readers to send their thoughts and feedback to me at editor@intotheruins.com, both as casual emails (rambling acceptable!) and as official letters to the editor that I can consider for publication in the seventh issue of Into the Ruins, scheduled for November. Comments for contributing authors will be happily forwarded on.

Now go read the issue and enjoy some fantastic deindustrial and post-peak science fiction!

— Joel Caris, Editor & Publisher

One of the particular pleasures of living in the city is the opportunities it provides for walking. I take advantage of those opportunities throughout the year, and even more so now that summer has truly arrived here in the Pacific Northwest. On average of late, I tend to get in a good five miles or more of walking each day. The more, the better. I walk my errands and my pleasures: grocery shopping, shipping packages at the post office, picking up books at the library, the occasional eating out, a pint and a movie at the second run theater, a visit to the park, or just an evening walk with my fiancee.

I find that walking grounds me. I suppose it does that in a certain literal way as I pass across the city, each footstep a small transfer of energy between myself and the earth (even if it so often is, sadly, intermediated by concrete). But it also places me into a rhythm, a satisfied state of mind, and engages my body in ways healthy not just physically, but mentally as well. Walking often settles me emotionally. And when I don’t read while walking (an occasional habit) it helps me to both clear my mind and to break away from my preoccupation with the troubles of the human world.

It’s too often forgotten that the human world is just one small part of our world. The rest is there around us, though too commonly ignored: our swirling ecosystem made up of so much more than humans and our myriad artifacts. I hear it in the chatter and cries of the crows, in the feel of the breeze, the rustle of trees and plants, the blooming scent of flowers, the pollen-induced sneezes, maddened squirrels, and the well- and not-so-well-tended gardens. It’s far easier to lose track of the nonhuman world here in the city, with its gridded streets and right-angled buildings, and yet it’s still not nearly so dominant as we imagine. There’s a lot of world out there that has little to do with humanity.

This all grounds me. And in a time of increasing chaos and upheaval, that grounding is critical. I’m a person who reads and studies and tracks our various predicaments. I don’t imagine I need to go through the data points to convince those reading this that we live in very troubled times, and that the future tends to look worse, not better, than the present. It’s hard living in such a time, and understanding that our future promises the harsh realities of decline rather than the prosperous upswing of ascent can create a certain grouchiness among society’s participants. I read a lot, track elements of our decline, and worry at times about our future; a deep mental burrowing into such topics creates strain and stress that can build until it manifests into useless, self-defeating, and at times downright destructive behavior.

Staying grounded and, in particular, staying rooted in and conscious of the realities of the non-human world helps even me out, calms me, heartens me, and brings me back to joy and pleasure. It mitigates the strain of decline and places the slow collapse of industrial civilization into perspective. Human civilizations do this, after all, and non-human populations do the same. We live and we die. We ascend and descend. We grow, prosper, contract, and collapse. It all is natural. It all is rooted in the unending ecological cycles of our world.

Walking helps me remember this. Sometimes it does so explicitly, but the vast majority of the time it simply is through the movement of my body, the sight and sounds of the crows and songbirds, a stray squirrel or dog or child, the wind or the sun or the rain, exuberant and sore muscles: the feedback from and asserting of the natural world around me. It grounds me in these times of trouble. It brings me pleasure and satisfaction to mitigate the frustration of seeing the world fragment around me.

I intend to write more about this in the introduction to the upcoming Summer 2017 issue of Into the Ruins, but in the meantime, I want to hear from you readers. What grounds you? In this time of decline, what helps keep you measured and sane and provides you respite from the many troubles bearing down on us (not to mention already arriving)? What puts your mind in order when it risks spiraling off down too-dark paths?

As usual, I’m hoping for some thoughts that are printable as letters to the editor, though I welcome all comments regardless of if you want them considered for publication. You can respond as a comment to this post or directly to me via email. If you don’t want your comments to be considered for publication as a letter to the editor, please say so. And if you email, please include your location in the form of city and state; you can do so in the comments, as well, or I’ll work to get in touch with you for that information if I want to publish your comments in the magazine.

Thanks, all!

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And a quick note: For those of you whose subscription ended after the fourth or fifth issues and who have yet to renew, you can always do so and get caught back up or simply be on deck for the upcoming publication of the sixth issue. Don’t miss out! Renew today.

I’m pleased to announce that the fifth issue of Into the Ruins is ready to ship to subscribers and is now available for purchase! This Spring 2017 issue features five excellent new stories from authors returning and new, as well as letters to the editor, a new “Deindustrial Futures Past” column from John Michael Greer, the return of Justin Patrick Moore reviewing Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, and the usual “Editor’s Introduction.”

In this fifth issue of Into the Ruins, explorations of our deindustrial future take intriguing turns both dark and delightful. A naive, young government official arrives in an economically devastated midwest and soon finds himself entangled in a disturbing mystery. An expedition gone terribly wrong leads to the discovery of a hidden clan with surprising social arrangements born of disease, cruelty, experimentation, and physical pleasure. A bus ride across the deindustrialized Canadian countryside spurs a happy connection. Two men form an unlikely friendship as they work their way toward flight. And a village mentor discovers unexpected forms of darkness in her friends and neighbors, leading her to question herself and those around her.

These visions—extraordinary at times, rooted in an utterly normal and yet still fascinating world at others—stretch the boundaries of our imagined future. At times mysterious and thrilling, this is a new type of science fiction, offering unknown worlds found right here on earth.

Subscribers should be receiving their issues within the next week or so. However, many of you have yet to renew your subscription. Please renew today if you haven’t already! (Or use this direct PayPal link if you’re a U.S. subscriber.) I’ll get the fifth issue shipped off to you ASAP upon renewal and your subscription will continue on into the future, ensuring you never miss an issue. If you aren’t sure or can’t remember if you’ve already renewed or if your subscription has expired, feel free to contact me to confirm.

Okay, with that out of the way, for those who aren’t ready to subscribe but who would like to check out the fifth issue anyway, you can order a copy here to peruse at your pleasure. In addition to ordering directly at the previous link, you can order from Amazon or CreateSpace, or you can purchase a digital edition of the issue at Payhip. For Canadian readers, the issue should be available soon on Amazon’s Canada site. For other international readers, you can go to the issue page for links to international Amazon sites it’s available at (or will be soon) or for a link to order directly from CreateSpace, which ships throughout the world.

As always, I encourage readers to send their thoughts and feedback to me at editor@intotheruins.com, both as casual emails (rambling acceptable!) and as official letters to the editor that I can consider for publication in the sixth issue of Into the Ruins, coming in July. Comments for contributing authors will be happily forwarded on.

Lastly, I want to once again provide a huge thanks to John Michael Greer for his myriad forms of support; Shane Wilson, who continues to prove a steady and invaluable Assistant Editor, providing feedback and catching mistakes I otherwise miss; Justin Patrick Moore, for returning to contribute a great new review to this issue; my amazing partner, Kate O’Neill, who is ever patient, ever loving, and brings me happiness every single day; to those who wrote letters to the editor and who have helped diversify the views available in the magazine; W. Jack Savage, for again providing such a beautiful cover, and for working with me unendingly; and of course to all the fantastic authors published herein, whose imaginative works form the backbone of this publication and, ultimately, are the reason it exists. And finally, to everyone who has subscribed (or who still is yet to subscribe), thank you for supporting this project and helping to make it happen.

Now go read the issue and enjoy some fantastic deindustrial and post-peak science fiction!

— Joel Caris, Editor & Publisher

As we slip into May, this year passing so fast, I can’t help but wonder at how quickly the world seems to change. Here in America, such a sense is at least somewhat inevitable with a new and discontinuous administration driving our national and foreign policy in new directions. But even setting aside the political disruptions experienced of late, it still feels as though the tipping points are arriving faster and faster. As decline accelerates and continues to push the United States and a number of other nations and regions into the early stages of collapse, I can’t help but believe the world is going to be dramatically and irreversibly changed in the coming decades, with a good number of incredible challenges staring us in the face.

It’s a sobering reality, but it’s also an opportunity to stop and reflect on what hopes we hold for the future. I know that can feel like an odd statement to make at a time that feels quite dark. However, in the times like these that challenge us, hope strikes me as more critical than ever. There is little question that we face a harsh future; yet such an impending reality demands from us an honest hope to make the world better than it otherwise might be through hard work, perseverance, an honest appraisal of where we are heading. John Michael Greer once wrote that hope “is the quality of character and the act of will that finds some good that can be achieved, no matter what the circumstances, and then strives to achieve it.” There is little question to my mind that now is a time for such efforts.

With that in mind, I turn to you good readers with a simple question: What do you hope for? Given the state of decline and the harsh futures facing us, what is it that you hope to do or see to make the future better than it might otherwise be. Much like the stories in Into the Ruins, I ask that the hard realities facing us not be dismissed or glossed over: please don’t write that you hope for an easy solution, or for something to happen to allow us to continue to live our lives as we have been, skating by the consequences of our idiotic and destructive decisions. No, given the realities of climate change, economic and political dysfunction, war, poverty, environmental destruction, and all the other troubles facing us, what do you hope for? It can be something at the personal or societal level, local or global, rooted in physical action, mental contemplation, spiritual practice, or something else.

My favorite responses I plan to publish as letters to the editor in the upcoming fifth issue of Into the Ruins. You can provide your thoughts either by commenting on this blog post or by emailing me directly at editor@intotheruins.com. If for any reason you do not want your thoughts to be considered for publication as a letter to the editor, please make a note of it in your comment.

I look forward to reading your thoughts.

I’m pleased to announce that the fourth issue of Into the Ruins is shipping to subscribers and is now available for purchase! This Winter 2017 issue features five excellent new stories, including the tale of an abandoned and dilapidated old church in the woods with a lively history of religion and scandal; a story of communication and friendship between species; the search for a particular treasure in the flooded remains of a great American city; a Cardinal’s fascinating letter about surprise visitors from the sea; and a near future tale of social unrest that plays off the uncertain political mood of the day. Also included is a new “Deindustrial Futures Past” column from John Michael Greer, reviews of deindustrial science fiction novels, and another thought-provoking letters section, making this an issue not to be missed.

For those of you who have followed my blog on the Figuration Press website, Litterfall, you’re in for what I hope will be a treat: my own story, “An Expected Chill,” completed and ready for your reading pleasure. Also, I’ve heard the calls for the title to be printed on the spine; consider it done!

Subscribers should be receiving their issues within the next week or so—all subscriber orders have been placed as of this weekend. For the vast majority of you subscribers, that means your subscription has come to an end. For those of you who have already renewed their subscription, thank you, thank you, thank you! For those who haven’t, you can do so right here. I hope you’ll join me for a second year of Into the Ruins, and I hope that you’ll consider doing it soon; it helps me tremendously to know how many subscribers I’m going to have for the fifth issue, which is a big part of how I set my author payment rates. This project has so far been a massive success—I really hope that continues to be the case! So please, renew if you haven’t already.

Okay, with that out of the way, for those who aren’t ready to subscribe but who would like to check out the fourth issue anyway, you can order a copy here to peruse at your pleasure. In addition to ordering directly at the previous link, you can order from Amazon. For Canadian readers, the issue is available on Amazon’s Canada site. For other international readers, you can go to the issue page for links to international Amazon sites it’s available at or for a link to order directly from CreateSpace, which ships throughout the world. Finally, a digital version will be available soon through Payhip for $7.50. I’ll make an announcement when that’s available.

As always, I encourage readers to send their thoughts and feedback to me at editor@intotheruins.com, both as casual emails (rambling acceptable!) and as official letters to the editor that I can consider for publication in the fifth issue of Into the Ruins, coming in May. Comments for contributing authors will be happily forwarded on—and I’ll note that I would love to hear direct feedback on my own story from anyone who’s inclined to provide it.

Lastly, I want to once again provide a huge thanks to John Michael Greer for his myriad forms of support; Shane Wilson, who continues to prove a steady and invaluable Associate Editor, providing feedback and catching mistakes I otherwise miss; Jason Heppenstall, for contributing a book review to this issue; my amazing partner, Kate O’Neill, who is ever patient, ever loving, and brings me happiness every single day; to those who wrote letters to the editor and who have helped diversify the views available in the magazine; W. Jack Savage, for again providing such a beautiful cover, and for working with me unendingly (and unendingly, and unendingly); and of course to all the fantastic authors published herein, whose imaginative works form the backbone of this publication and, ultimately, are the reason it exists. And finally, to everyone who has subscribed or purchased issues, thank you for supporting this project and helping to make it happen.

Now go read the issue and enjoy some fantastic deindustrial and post-peak science fiction!

– Joel Caris, Editor & Publisher