On Southern Sci-Fi
By Darian Bianco
Growing up as an only child on my grandparents’ farmland, I was hungry for the impossible. I caught the bug early on, and any book called “unrealistic” was a book I wanted to get my hands on—give me mermaids, give me fairies, give me swords and robots and chosen one prophecies. I wanted it all.
Once I hit my tween years, my taste became a bit darker, perhaps a tad more bitter from all the coffee I was starting to drink; I wanted monsters, dystopia, darkness and uncertainty where people had to fight for the smallest sliver of hope.
