The Journal

Renewable Horizons, Third Edition, is out

The title is the same. The book is not. This edition is written for the places that still run on a diesel barge or a winter fuel flight — Arctic hamlets, Pacific islands, rural towns at the end of the line. The argument has not changed: every community is, in its way, an island. The hardware has.

Since the last edition, lithium-iron-phosphate storage became something you can actually specify. Sodium-ion left the lab and matters in the cold. Iron-air put its first hundred-hour plants on a grid — utility scale, not a village kit. Controllers got smarter, which is why the book now spends a chapter on cybersecurity and the manual override. Costs moved. So did the honesty required to read them: Chapter 2 is the toolkit I wish I had been handed twenty years ago — nameplate is not what you get, pack price is not system price, and a remote premium is not an insult. It is freight.

What I cut: subsidy theatre that expires with the next budget. What I kept: diesel as a defined leftover duty, not a religion; waste-to-energy only for the stream a village actually produces; perovskite as shipped, not ordinary.

Published by Earl Decker, Windsor, Ontario. Canadian English. Figures current to 2026. Paperback ISBN 978-1-0681014-0-3 · Hardcover ISBN 978-1-0681014-1-0 · E-book ISBN 978-1-0681014-2-7.

If you run a co-op, a clinic microgrid, a development desk, or a plant that still starts the generator at dusk, this was written for you. Read more on the Works page →

The saga is live

After a long time in the dark, Elyria's Fall is finally in the wild. The world site is up at elyriasfall.com — the five-book saga, the star charts, the cast, and the first look at the game, Dark Sun: Anchor.

If you're new here, the doorway is Dark Sun — Book One, the historical root of everything that follows. More soon: cover reveals, a look inside the world, and playtest news from the game.

Why a dying binary?

Two suns, Alpha and Lucen, and a slow dark called the Fade creeping in from the edges. I wanted a setting where the crisis isn't a single explosion but a long decline — the kind that shapes generations, economies, and grudges. A thousand-year dusk makes room for the thing I care about most: people making hard choices under pressure that never quite lets up.

One canon, many moving parts

Five novels and a game sharing a single world means everything has to stay consistent — names, dates, places, who owes whom. I keep it all in one rigorously-maintained canon so the books and the game never contradict each other. You can see a redacted snapshot of that production system on the Studio page.