The Ides of July 2026
Something to believe in…
Greetings Picklesversians!
It’s the 15th of July and the Ides are upon us once again, so it’s time for my monthly message.
Here’s what I’ve got for you today:
🎉 New covers!
📔 Those Not Recovered – status update
🐨 Reality is gone
🏴☠️ Recommendations
Let’s dive in! 🌊
🎉 New covers!
They’re finally here! 🥳
We started the process of getting new covers back in October 2025. It’s been a complex and lengthy project, but it’s (almost) over now, and here are the results!
I particularly like how the designers made the words The ArkTech Series look like a city skyline from a distance. I also think the colour scheme does a much better job of conveying the tone of the books, and I’m glad Charlotte makes an appearance. (Ben was upset about not having been depicted, but I pointed out that he has no physical form. [I hope that hasn’t given him any ideas…] He sort of turns up in a sneaky way on the Time Hack cover, though. If you look closely, you’ll find him.)
There are still a few finishing touches being made to the print editions, but that should all be resolved over this coming month.
Side note: on the image below, I love how the designers have included the year when the books are set (2101) as the time on the clock in the background. (Easter eggs please me, as does meticulous attention to detail.)
I’m currently working with the designers to create the cover for Those Not Recovered. The images for the top half are sorted (I’ll reveal these at a later date), but I have a quandary about the colour scheme and I’d like to ask what you think.
If you’d like to help me decide, follow the link below.
[Link expired]
📔 Those Not Recovered – status update
There was a version of my writing schedule that had me finishing Those Not Recovered by the end of July. Sadly, that timetable has now shifted from doable to ambitious to impossible. (Cue the emoji of excessive crying. This one: 😭).
The last time I updated you about my progress, I’d finished Chapter 18 (of about 35). I’m now working on Chapter 15.
[Static fizzles in your ears]
Ben: It’s important to note that 15 comes before 18, Marianne. Perhaps some remedial mathematics lessons are in order. Shall we start with two plus two? Hint: five is right out.
MP: That’s OK, Ben. I didn’t miscount. I just had to go back and fix something important. But I enjoyed the Orwell/Python cross-over inherent in your maths problem.
[Ben lets out a satisfied crackle and disconnects]
I might have mentioned previously that the advice for writers who need to change some aspect of their manuscript tends to be as follows:
“Pretend you’ve made the change, keep writing, and wait until a later draft to actually fix it.”
It’s good advice. It’s sensible advice. It’s also advice that, on this particular occasion, I had to ignore.
Without giving you any spoilers, the issue concerned two strands of plot which operate in parallel until Chapters 15-18, where they become intertwined. Essentially, I wasn’t happy with how I’d done it, and it was having a knock-on effect on Chapter 19 and beyond.
The issue was quite challenging to mentally untangle, and I concluded that the only way I could feel confident about how everything plays out after Chapter 19 was to go through the earlier chapters and make all of the necessary changes to those two affected strands of plot.
The good news is, I’m really happy with the new version, and I’m sure this work will make for a better reading experience. But it’s certainly been a setback in terms of my timescales. I feel bad about that because I want to get the next instalment to you as soon as I can. But it’s important to me that the quality of each book keeps going up, so I’d rather get it right than rush it.
In any case, I’ll treat you like an envelope and keep you posted.
[Static returns]
Ben: Did you know that the premise of the 2015 video game entitled Tearaway Unfolded is that you are an envelope, and your mission is to post yourself?
MP: I did. And I’ve always rated that premise delightfully high on the whims-o-meter.
Ben: Analysing… Error. There is no reference to a “whims-o-meter” in my database. Can you expand?
MP: It’s a measurement scale I invented using the knowledge gained on my Master’s. It allows us to scientifically gauge the precise degree of charming silliness present in any work of art or situation. The scale starts at zero and goes up as high as mongoose.
Ben: [Fizzes thoughtfully] Did you know that the correct plural of mongoose is technically mongooses?
MP: I didn’t. But I find that morally reprehensible, and I think it should be changed immediately.
Ben: Would you like me to contact your colleagues in the Cambridge Dictionary Online team to lodge a formal request that they change the plural to mongeese?
MP: I think that would be best, yes.
Ben: Message sent. Incidentally, how does our current conversation score on your whims-o-meter?
MP: Around a six point Sasquatch, I’d say.
🐨 Reality is gone
I’ve always been susceptible to existential crises. They occur so frequently that I’ve come to rather enjoy them. Topics I often return to are how our thoughts and beliefs shape our reality, the meaning of life, and what it means to live in a society where instructions are provided on the packaging for toothpicks (just call me Wonko). This month, I’ve been reflecting on the stories we tell ourselves about the people who entertain us (be that through music, sport, or writing) and the impact those stories have on our enjoyment of their work.
This line of inquiry all started because I went to London this last month. Not once. Not twice. But thrice during a two-week period.
For context, this isn’t a normal occurrence for me. I grew up in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. (If you’re not sure where that is, it’s the bit on the top right of the UK map that looks like a nose.) That meant London was impossibly far away – the train journey takes over 7 hours. It might as well have been on the moon. Now that I live in Cambridgeshire, London is only an hour and fifteen minutes away by train, but my brain has never adjusted to its proximity. In my head, London is on a par with Mordor. To paraphrase Sean Bean, one does not simply go on a day trip to the Big Smoke. Going there three times in thirteen days puts a new spin on the phrase there and back again.
If you’re anything like Ben, you might be wondering why I did this. Well, my London visits were concerned with the following activities:
- Posing as an Australian on live television
- Paying to witness beautifully human hypocrisy
- Watching a molecular biologist start a mosh pit.
All of these statements are true, but in case they aren’t sufficiently factual, here’s an alternative version of the same information:
- I went to Queen’s Club to watch tennis
- I watched Lily Allen perform West End Girl at the O2
- I saw The Offspring play at Crystal Palace Park.
Having these three uncommon experiences in quick succession made me reflect on the role of stories in fandom.
But before I get to that, here’s a note on the notion of truth in storytelling.
We tend to categorise stories into fact and fiction, and that classification is important to us. The recent scandal surrounding The Salt Path, a memoir presented as true which it has since been suggested was largely invented, shows how deeply wronged people feel when they’ve been lied to about that.
The ubiquity of Fake News is another concern, especially with the rise of AI deepfakes, which make it difficult to tell whether what we’re looking at is real. I suppose these are the modern equivalent of The Great Moon Hoax of 1835. Humans have a long history of augmenting reality to make it more interesting – because the boring truth that there aren’t any bat-people living on the moon sadly doesn’t sell.
Tall tales can be spun in a bad natured way – essentially misleading people for profit. But I’ve also encountered more positive examples of people making things up. Here’s a quote from Rob Wilkins’s biography of Terry Pratchett, A Life with Footnotes.
“For a person who was bracingly committed to honesty and openness in his everyday dealings, Terry was also a great believer in not letting the truth stand in the way of a good story, and especially a good funny story.” – Rob Wilkins
This attitude feels very relatable to me, and it’s reminiscent of the fisherman’s tale (in which the fish gets bigger with each re-telling). There’s a delightful glimmer of mischief in the idea that Terry Pratchett embraced poetic license as a tool for entertainment purposes. If nobody’s getting hurt, and if it raises a smile, then where’s the harm?
Keeping these dual perspectives in mind, I’d like to tell you more about my trips to London and the talented people I saw there. I’ll ask Ben for some help with this. Ben, could you start with some fun facts about The Offspring, please?
[Static distorts the letters on your screen]
Ben: It would be my pleasure! Did you know that The Offspring formed in California in the year 1984? They’ve never officially split up during that 42-year period, although they recently took a 9-year break, during which the frontman, Dexter Holland, earned a PhD in molecular biology from USC. His thesis focused on virology as he wanted to contribute towards Homo sapiens knowledge and understanding of HIV, noting that it affects the lives of over 35 million people. During the concert in London, the band played Love Story by Taylor Swift, encouraging the crowd to create a giant mosh pit while they did so.
Thanks, Ben – that’s great. Now, you’ll notice that none of the information above mentions the type of music they play (it’s punk rock), or the names of any of their famous songs (Self Esteem, The Kids Aren’t Alright, Something to Believe In), but all of it makes me like them even more than I already did. There’s the incredible longevity of the band. There’s the slightly unexpected and very impressive academic credentials of the lead singer, as well as the humanitarian theme of his studies. And there’s the sense of humour evident in the Taylor Swift mosh pit concept (which scored a solid Sparklemuffin Peacock Spider on the whims-o-meter).
Their show was absolutely brilliant in its own right, but the fact that they came across as Nice People™️ made the whole experience all the more enjoyable.
And that’s interesting to me. Why should that be the case? Isn’t their music all that matters?
It doesn’t seem to work that way.
Let’s look at a different story. Ben, could you please share what I knew about Lily Allen’s album West End Girl before I went to see the concert?
Ben: Certainly! The album was released in October 2025. It charts a fictionalised version of the breakup of her marriage to actor David Harbour, of Stranger Things fame. The story goes that she reluctantly agreed to an open marriage, which he requested over the phone while she was starring in a play in London. However, Lily soon learns he has broken the rules and is having an affair with a woman she calls Madeline. In the end, she decides to tell people her truth about why they split up, presenting herself as resilient and inspiring in the face of adversity.
Thanks, Ben. Just as an album, even if we treat it as entirely fictional, West End Girl is very affecting. It takes the listener through the emotional beats of a brutal divorce. But the fact that it was based on something that really happened (and perhaps because it concerns two famous people), it captured the public’s interest and imagination.
Could you now share the information I stumbled upon after having seen the show?
Ben: Of course! Lily Allen married David Harbour in 2020. Her first marriage ended in 2018 because she had been repeatedly unfaithful.
MP: Is that true, though? It sounds like salacious gossip.
Ben: She wrote about it in her own memoir.
The plot thickens.
The way her first marriage ended doesn’t change how badly she was treated during her second marriage. But this information does somehow cast the album in a different light – perhaps making the story feel somewhat hypocritical.
On the other hand, I don’t think humans can avoid being hypocrites. We frequently believe one thing and do something else. For example, many large corporations emphasise their sustainability credentials due to their awareness of the dangers posed by global warming. But many of those same companies are pushing for AI to automate as many of their processes as possible to cut costs, despite knowing how hungry the technology is for energy and water. We’re complicated creatures living in a complex world.
Then there’s the wider question of whether an artist should be conflated with their art. I was once told I shouldn’t read Isaac Asimov because he treated women so badly, even by the standards of his time. But must I boycott someone’s work when I disagree with their behaviour? Can I strenuously disagree with his actions, and also familiarise myself with the most significant historical works in my field? Can I still watch Stranger Things, considering what David Harbour did to Lily Allen? Can I still listen to Lily Allen, considering what she did to her ex? If I only consume the art of people with a clean moral slate, will there be any art left to consume?
I’d like to think that we can separate these things, but it’s never simple, especially where emotion and identity are concerned. But now I’m going to put it to the test…
We’ve arrived at a crucial moment in today’s email because I’m about to reveal to you an example of my own questionable behaviour. You’ll have to judge whether or not you can continue to read my work after this revelation.
Because, you see… I was recently documented in public pretending to be… Australian.
Wait! Before you rage quit this email, please allow me the chance to explain myself.
It all started quite innocently. Every year, a friend and I go to Queen’s Club to watch the tennis (for the sake of my friend’s privacy, let’s call her Katie). Back in 2023, we were there for the quarter finals and we saw this young Aussie guy called Alex de Minaur.
Cue story time…
Alex de Minaur is also known as The Speed Demon because he’s incredibly fast. There’s seldom a ball he can’t get to in time and his matches are always entertaining to watch. His serve often lets him down, but he has a huge number of shots in his arsenal to make up for it. He’s had the same coach since he was 11 years old, and despite currently being number 5 in the world, he’s never made it past a quarter final at a Grand Slam. He’s exceptionally sportsmanlike, keeps his cool under pressure, and comes across as a Nice Young Man. I’d like to see him do well.
So for our trip to Queen’s, Katie and I got dressed up in a manner that would make it clear he had our support.
Unfortunately, in doing so, we may have inadvertently misled those around us. Here’s how many conversations went that day:
Stranger: Oh, cool! Are you Australian?
MP: No. Why on Earth would you think that?
Stranger: [Hesitates] Then… is your friend Australian?
MP: No, she’s English.
Stranger: [Backs away, confused, muttering something about cricket.]
Allow me to supply the photographic evidence, courtesy of the BBC footage from TV. You can make up your own mind about what constitutes a reasonable conclusion to draw from it.
(Note: if you ever want to get on TV at a sporting event, apparently all you have to do is get dressed up in another country’s national garb.)
What conclusions can we draw from this?
East is west. Up is down. War is peace. Two plus two is five. Marianne is Australian. How can any of us know what’s real? And does it even matter?
[You hear some deep breaths as Marianne grapples with this existential quandary. When her voice returns, she speaks with rising intonation.]
Who knows, mate? Let’s all just camp by a billabong, throw another bug on the barbie, and crack open a copy of My Place by Sally Morgan.
I think what I’m trying to say is: in a world where you can be anything, be honest. And if you can’t be honest, be Australian.
(While I’m not actually Australian, I do love it there and I know they have a sense of humour. I spent a year of my undergraduate degree on exchange at the University of Queensland in Brisbane where I took an Australian literature course. Hence my knowledge of Sally Morgan, my first-hand experience with a pizza-stealing ibis, and my ability to correctly pronounce the word Indooroopilly. Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.)
🏴☠️ Recommendations
📺 Silo – Season 3
Last month, I mentioned I’m through to the semi-finals of a competition co-founded by the author Hugh Howey, so it seems only fair that I mention the new season of the television adaptation of his Wool trilogy, which has just started on Apple TV.
I thought season 1 was absolutely fantastic. In season 2, the acting continued to be stellar, but they took a few liberties with the plot of the books which didn’t feel like improvements to me. They also ended season 2 in a truly weird place, so I’ll be interested to see whether season 3 gets them back on track.
If you haven’t read the trilogy, I’d definitely recommend the books. My favourite was Shift, aka Book 2, wherein we learn more about how the world got to be the way it is. Season 3 of the show will deal with that part of the story… It’s hard to imagine how they’ll adapt it, but fingers crossed they can pull it off because it’s a good story.
🍿 The Odyssey
Christopher Nolan’s The Odyssey is coming out in cinemas this week and I’m looking forward to seeing it. It stars Matt Damon (of The Martian) as Odysseus, Charlize Theron (of Mad Max: Fury Road) as Calypso, and Tom Holland (aka the newest Spiderman) as his son Telemachus. Zendaya (the latter’s wife in real life and love interest in Spiderman) plays the goddess Athena, and John Leguizamo (aka Tybalt from Romeo and Juliet) plays Odysseus’s childhood friend, Eumaeus.
If I can watch it without getting the actors mixed up with their previous roles, and without becoming pedantic about what does and doesn’t happen in the book, I expect I’ll enjoy it – wish me luck.
If you haven’t read The Odyssey, there’s a new translation by Daniel Mendelsohn which attempts to replicate the Homeric hexameter of the original poem. Next you just need a roaming bard to perform it for you, and you’ll have the full authentic experience!
🎮 Assassin’s Creed Black Flag: Resynced
I’ve always marvelled at the commercial strategy of Bethesda Game Studios. Back in 2011, they released a fabulous game called Skyrim. And it was so good that (rather than making a new, even better game) they just keep re-releasing it… and everyone keeps buying and playing the new versions. Ben tells me it’s been re-released anywhere between 8 and 15 times!
Perhaps Ubisoft has taken some inspiration from this because they’ve just released Assassin’s Creed Black Flag: Resynced, a remastered version of the original 2013 game. It’s the first time in a while that I’ve bought a game when it was brand new… but I suppose it isn’t really new, is it?
I did own a copy of the original game, but I got tired of the quirks of the old controller conventions, so I didn’t get very far. I’m enjoying being able to run by pressing R3 – it’s the simple things in life.
The Caribbean setting is a delight. For me, the point of Assassin’s Creed games has always been running (or sneaking) around in beautiful historical locations – hence my being unable to play Valhalla. Who wants to spend their free time wandering around in the snow-covered marshes of 9th century Britain? (If I wanted to trudge through a frigid English swamp, I could do that by simply leaving my house in winter).
Anyway, if you fancy being both a pirate and an assassin who’s trying to make enough money to keep his wife in hot chocolate forever, this could be the game for you.
Right… That’s all from me this month!
I hope all’s well in your own personal universes.
Walk in the sun,
Marianne