HeyJaredRobert Garron’s Substack
Writing strange and innovative science fiction and fantasy destined to break the mold of genres, gatekeepers and established orthodoxies.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 4
- Latest publication
- Oct 1, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Jul 16, 2026
Latest issues
OLD WOUNDS (opens the original)
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“I thought we were at war with the Hirganites,” the proconsul said, leaning forward and propping his hands on his lap; his straightened posture on the chair was framed by one of Ardor’s sprawling cities through the window. The crease between his eyes loudly proclaimed his emotional state.“Unfortunately, governor, we have no other choice,” Freigick, a commercial diplomat, replied, weakly lifting his rounded palms that blazed under the glare of GR Lacertae. “Economic woes beacon. They tend to trum
VOICES BEYOND TIME (opens the original)
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The night pitched over the road that burrowed through Wyoming’s interior. Ethan drove under the midnight oil, hoping to reach Cheyenne before morning, aware that his aging figure would give out if he never stopped to rest. He switched on the radio, hoping for lively music to stir him awake for the next few hours; instead, he came across a news report on a heated escalation abroad. He promptly switched it off, yawned, and refocused on the dotted lines rolling underneath the cone of lights. Perhap
BUM-RUSH (opens the original)
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The crowds slogged, shoving and buffeting through the sloughs of a shoddily dredged revetment that poured in from the nearest settlements. Some of the residents learned late, barely mustering the time to collect their precious portables and vacate their tenements. But others were given ample time from weeks prior, yet they had lived day to day, heedless of the proconsul’s advisories handed down from the Federation itself, and now they found themselves cursing and grumbling as they shambled towar
THROUGH THE FOLD OF THE PROPHET (opens the original)
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Tareq crinkled his brow, avidly studying the readings beneath the swollen image. The planet glowed in a shroud of pixels, its varied hues threading and wafting across the surface. The atmospheric content seemed promising, strikingly similar to the climate of Earth. But there was a difference. It lay 700 light years in the direction of Chameleon—700 years into its past that he stared. A few teammates burst into cheer, but he ignored them. Something was off. Déjà vu hit him like an epiphany in the
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