#mythpunk

What Exactly Is Mythpunk?

To understand mythpunk, it helps to look at its cousin subgenres. Steampunk looks at Victorian technology through a rebellious lens. Cyberpunk does the same with high-tech dystopias.

Mythpunk takes folklore, classical mythology, and religious iconology, but strips away the reverent, squeaky-clean polish. Instead of treating gods and legends as untouchable, perfect archetypes, mythpunk treats them as raw, volatile, and deeply human-shaped forces. It looks at ancient traditions and asks: What happens when the divine collides with mortal agency? What happens to a myth when the world changes?

In mythpunk, pantheons aren't just figures in a textbook. They are living, breathing, often dangerous entities. The narrative voice is gritty, subversive, and unapologetically bold. It blends the grand, existential weight of cosmic tales with the sharp, emotional realism of characters who are fighting for survival in broken worlds.

The Weight of Descent: My Fascination with Inferno

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been drawn to heavy, architectural mythologies, and few works have left a deeper mark on my imagination than Dante’s Inferno.

Dante created a vision of the afterlife that was meticulously structured, terrifyingly atmospheric, and deeply emotional. It’s an epic of descent: a journey through concentric circles of human failing, divine judgment, and existential dread, where the geography itself tells a story.

Even though my own spiritual path has evolved over time, leading me away from traditional dogmas and into Druidism, my fascination with Inferno hasn't faded. In fact, transitioning into Druidism gave me a completely new way to appreciate it.

Druidism taught me to view the universe through cycles, nature, balance, and the raw power of the living world. When I look back at Dante’s Inferno through that lens, I don't just see a religious morality tale.

I see a masterpiece of cosmic geography and emotional archetypes. I see a soul navigating a terrifying, sacred landscape to find transformation on the other side. That core journey, descending into the darkest, most terrifying depths of existence and coming out changed, is the heart of mythpunk.

Weaving Greek and Celtic Myths Into New Worlds

If Dante gives mythpunk its structural weight and dark descent, Greek and Celtic mythologies give it its chaotic, vibrant soul.

Greek myth is defined by tragic flaw, fate, and celestial conflict. The Greek gods were never pristine moral role models. They were petty, passionate, brilliant, and destructive. They ruled over mortals with immense power, yet were constantly bound by their own hubris. That friction — mortal defiance against immortal power — is pure punk energy.

Celtic mythology, on the other hand, brings a visceral connection to the land, the veil between worlds, and the cyclical nature of life and death. It’s a tradition where the supernatural isn't trapped in the sky. It lives in the woods, the water, the mist, and the blood. The Tuatha Dé Danann, the Otherworld, and the sharp edge of tragic heroism fit seamlessly into my spiritual alignment with Druidism.

When you blend the grand, fatalistic scope of Greek tragedy with the wild, magical, nature-rooted logic of Celtic lore, you get a story universe that feels both ancient and electric.

Why Mythpunk Calls to Me as an Author

People often asked why I write stories with such heavy, complex, and apocalyptic mythological stakes. Why not stick to grounded fantasy or traditional space operas?

The answer is simple: Myths are the ultimate language for processing human trauma, hope, and transformation.

Ancient humans created myths to explain forces they couldn't control: storms, death, war, and creation. Today, we still face existential questions and apocalyptic anxieties, but our "gods" look different.

In mythpunk, I can take the timeless weight of ancient pantheons and collide them with modern sci-fi themes, cosmic horror, and end-times prophecies.

Writing mythpunk allows me to explore human nature.

I can explore what happens when mortals refuse to be pawns in gods' schemes.

I can also explore how worlds break down, and what survives in the ashes.

While I am a grimdark author now, I am still somewhat of a romance novelist. After all that is how I got my start publishing. This lets me explore love stories that span cosmic eras, burdened by destiny and otherworldy warfare.

The Personal Within the Epic: Keeping human (and non-human) emotion front and center, even when universes are collapsing around them.

When I write, I want you, the reader, to feel the cold stone of ancient altars alongside the hum of sci-fi energy. I want to build omniversal stories that aren't afraid to dive into mature, traumatic, and dark themes, because that is where the light shines brightest when characters finally endure and transform.

The Journey Ahead

At its core, mythpunk is an invitation. It’s an invitation to stop looking at mythology as something buried in history books, and start seeing it as a living, breathing tapestry that we can tear apart and weave anew.

Whether we are descending into the dark circles of a underworld, standing at the edge of a heavenly war, or listening to the ancient whispers of the land, these stories remind us that no matter how terrifying the gods or the end-times may seem, the mortal spirit always finds a way to fight back, even when Creation is reset.