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Welcome to Wanton Sun.
We publish science fiction that passes the unreality test.

Musk thinks Grimes is a simulation, engineered inside his cerebral cortex to be his perfect companion, and she agrees. Something’s not right within her, she tells him, her body feels unreal. She lives inside his memory, of course she does. Scary AIs from the future have made her, grown her, developed her. 

Kanye went to E’s place and they posed for G, who snapped them chilling beside a giant glass sculpture of Maria, the robot from Metropolis. They syringed their immortal image straight into the retinas of the hangdog goofballs hiding in the folds of the network. You know, just two megarich bros hanging down with a supersized fetish object. You can zoom in to see Grimes. She’s crouched low, reflected in Maria’s legs, snapping one for the ages.

All they see of the world is each other.

All we see when we look into the night sky is Starlink.

Beneath the clouds–far below the celebrity towers, in the slip roads late at night, in the unverified accounts–we don’t have the luxury of choice. Bad actors impersonate friends and deep fakes steal souls.

Everyone wants to make sense of it. There are more writers in the world than readers. More transmitters than receivers. More imagined worlds. More noise. More publishers.

More storytelling potential.

Wanton Sun publishes books for people who’ve seen, heard and done it all before.