S.J. Ladds, author of eco-SF story “Prata Neptunia” in The Future Fire #75, is today’s guest in the microinterview series.
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| Art © 2026 Ellis Bray |
S.J. Ladds: “Prata Neptunia” is a strange story to me because, at its core, it's a tale of hope, but I wrote it in quite a hopeless state of mind. It was inspired by Ocean with David Attenborough which, like all Attenborough documentaries, managed to balance the tragedy of what humanity is doing to the world with the healing efforts of people, and I wanted to emulate that in my work. Really, it was about showing what we can accomplish when we pull together and put our minds to making a change. So, if even one person reads “Prata Neptunia” and then picks up a few pieces of rubbish off the beach on their next trip to the seaside, I've done my job!
TFF: What is the most important thing to remember about writing?
SJL: To keep doing it. Doesn't matter if it’s not perfect—writing never is—doesn't matter what you do with it, what matters is writing. Using your voice in a world that increasingly wants you not to whether that's because of what you're saying or because you're not relying on technology to speak for you. Put pen to paper and say something you've always wanted to say.
TFF: What are you working on next?
SJL: A lot of things (all at once unfortunately for my poor brain). I’m currently nearing the end of my novella about the community of forests and how people mimic this in certain ways which is all about finding ways for humans and nature to coexist peacefully. I've also just started planning an eco-horror about capitalism and how it impacts the natural world.
Extract:
I was sixteen when the International Ocean Centre for Marine Research, colloquially known as the IOC, was floated out into the middle of the Pacific. In fact, I watched it cast off during a maths lesson; my phone hidden under my desk, the same eyes with which a space-obsessed child might have watched the moon landing back in 1969. I must have rewatched its launch almost a hundred times in the following weeks. Over breakfast, during lunch, at the dinner table, when someone was having a rather dull conversation in my vicinity.
Reminder: You can comment on any of the writing or art in this issue at http://press.futurefire.net/2026/02/new-issue-202675.html.
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