From The Martian to Project Hail Mary

Back in September 2022, I wrote about Andy Weir after hearing him speak during ProWritingAid’s Writer’s Week. His interview stood out to me not just because The Martian is one of my all-time favourite stories, but because of how down-to-earth he came across. Despite his book ‘rocketing’ to success, Andy spoke with humour and humility, sharing how social media helped propel his work before a major publisher picked it up.
I was struck by his approach to research, which mirrors my own: keep the story internally consistent, even if the science bends a little. As he explained, the ferocious Martian storm that stranded Mark Watney couldn’t happen in reality, but it made for a brilliant opening. As Slartibartfast would say, “I’d rather be happy than be right any day.”
At the time, Andy admitted his follow-up novel Artemis hadn’t resonated with readers in the same way, partly because the protagonist wasn’t wholly likeable. I hadn’t read it myself, but I understood his point—sometimes a character can push us away before the story has a chance to pull us in.

Fast forward to now, and I’ve finally read Project Hail Mary. It was brilliant. The format and feel reminded me of The Martian—that same mix of humour, tension, and science-driven storytelling—but with its own fresh spark. I couldn’t help imagining Tom Hanks in the lead role, a cross between his Cast Away survivor and Matt Damon’s stranded botanist in The Martian. No offence to Ryan Gosling, who’s set to star in the film adaptation, but Hanks feels like such a natural fit for the lone astronaut.
What makes Project Hail Mary so good is exactly what Andy talked about back in 2022: believable science wrapped in compelling storytelling, with a protagonist readers can root for. It feels like a return to the hit writing that made The Martian such a success.
Looking back, I’m glad I put this book on my reading list. Andy Weir has proven once again that when you combine technical curiosity with a spark of imagination, you can create a story that captures readers and keeps them turning the pages.

Where No Girl Has Gone Before.

While on holiday in the beautiful Welsh hills last week, I found myself thinking back to when I first imagined the Seven Systems. It began as a playground for soft sci-fi. Distant worlds, speculative wonder, and the thrill of invention. I didn’t know then that Annika Dash would come along. But I’m so glad she did.

Annika Dash and the Unicorn from Space introduced us to the little girl who was not afraid to do what she believed was right—even if that meant putting herself in danger. The story planted a seed of an idea in me: why not take her curiosity and determination on a journey that any little girl or boy could take?

Annika Dash: The Dark Side of the Moon does just that, nudging our young heroine into navigating territory often reserved for boys: engineering, problem-solving, and the occasional heroic leap of faith. In this story, she’s older, and when she’s not navigating alien tech, diplomatic tangles or a kitchen filled with her great-uncle’s inventions, she’s easing herself—and her middle-grade readers—into the world of STEM.

STEM—science, technology, engineering, and maths—it’s part of the story’s heartbeat. I believe girls should see themselves as equal participants in these fields. Curious minds deserve space to explore, invent, and lead—regardless of gender. If Annika’s journey sparks even a flicker of that ambition, then I’ll count that as a win.

The second book in the series arrives in a few days, and I can’t wait to hear what readers think. I’m excited—and a little nervous—to share it with you.

Book Three? Still under wraps. But let’s just say… Annika won’t be staying grounded for long.

If you’ve followed my work on the Seven Systems, thank you. If you do pick up Book Two, I’d love to know what you think here. Annika’s journey is one we’re all part of now—and I hope it continues to surprise you.

Unveiling the Unicorn from Space .

Well, what can I say? I’d told my brother and his lovely wife, our sister-in-law, Emma, how I’d been unable to write my normal Space Fantasy until I’d finished this story for my niece. And, after several long months, it was ready.

I wanted my niece to be surprised by it, and enjoy reading it. This led to long periods of anxiety, wondering how she’d receive, not only the first book I have published, but my first attempt at writing a children’s chapter book. I needn’t have worried because the reaction from Freya was priceless.

Her eyes lit up when she realised it was a unicorn story and that I’d written it for her. I loved the moment when Emma pointed out that Freya’s name was in the acknowledgements. This prompted my niece to read the front matter, and my day couldn’t have got much better. Even the table of contents sounded so good being read by my niece. Forget the Amazon sales and all the lovely reviews. This was… well, I have no words to describe it. No, I have too many words to choose from so I’ll just say it was brilliant.

After this, we had a kick-around with Alfie’s new football – an official Euro 24 football. Alfie is Freya’s older brother, and is football crazy, just like his dad and uncle.

I amazed the little ones with my Messi-like ball control despite my young niece and nephew bombarding me with questions about the book, Annika Dash and the Unicorn from Space. Questions like, who was the baddie? What was the unicorn called?

I was proud of how little I gave away, though I suspect gasping for air while trying to keep up with Alfie and Freya played a part in this. Puffing and panting, I gave up only a few details – teasers, really – cleverly designed to encourage them to read the book. Freya promised to do this straight away and sat down to examine the map of the City Space Museum, inside the book’s front cover.

Nonchalantly, Alfie performed keepy-uppies while looking me straight in the eye.

“Will there be another book?” he asked. “A sequel?”

The park fell silent.

I stared back at Alfie. Alfie glanced at Freya. Freya narrowed her eyes at me.

Someone gulped. I think it may have been me…