Carry On to Wayward Suns

Dear Friends,

Happy August, Merry Lammas. I'm writing this from a moving car journeying up the length of Vancouver Island, cutting it a bit fine before I vanish into the Wayward Retreat for the next ten days (about which I've written at length here, if you scroll down a ways), away from internet and cell service for the duration. In the distance, mountains overlap each other in layers of blue, while my body barely comprehends where and when it is, but knows to drink deep from extra hours of light wherever possible.

It also knows to forage blackberries with friends whenever possible, even – especially? – while waiting in a queue of cars before boarding a ferry.

In fact, I spent much of the last six weeks harvesting fruit: service berries from parks, sour cherries from dear friends' tree, an extraordinary bounty of raspberries, unlooked for golden currants.

Also I cut my hair.

By the time you read this, I'll be unreachable – but I do have a few things to share before I resolve myself into a dew:

• There's just a few days left to vote for the Hugo Awards! The deadline is Saturday, August 8, 2026, at Noon Pacific Time / 3:00 pm Eastern Time/ 7:00 pm GMT. I've made the mistake in the past of thinking the cutoff was always the locale's midnight, but it isn't! The River Has Roots is a finalist in the Best Novella category.
• I wrote a sort of essay-ish column about lies and language for the NYTBR, covering three books I really enjoyed.
• I'm going to be at the National Book Festival in DC and also at Worldcon in Anaheim! Hopefully more about these soon but I'm really excited about all the panels and conversations I'm signed up for.

What else? The moving car is now stationary as we wait for a ferry – the second I'll have been on today, after flying from Ottawa to Vancouver. It's been a long day and I've barely felt the time pass, though the light's dimmed to velvety blues and sunset afterglow. Here's one last photo, from the earlier ferry:

I hope wherever you are you're keeping safe, breathing easy, and holding your loved ones close.

Wishing you all the very best,

Amal