For years, readers of Ross Douthat have known him primarily as a fixture of high-minded political and cultural commentary. Whether weighing in on the spiritual malaise of modern society or dissecting the shifting tides of populism after the Trump era, Douthat has long held a prominent position in conservative journalism. However, followers of the author’s broader creative output may already be aware that he has long nurtured a distinct side gig as a speculative fiction writer. Soon, that digital-first endeavor will make the leap from screen to physical bookshelves.
The Falcon’s Children, a young adult fantasy trilogy that previously existed as an exclusive serial on Substack, is scheduled to appear in print next year. The publication will be handled by Luminor, a Catholic imprint associated with Word on Fire. For Douthat’s regular audience, the pivot to epic world-building may not come as an entirely shocking development. Observers of his career have long pointed out the distinct characteristics of his worldview. A retrospective 2010 profile in Mother Jones famously described his conservative vision as falling squarely "into the realm of the utopian—it’s magical, Tolkien-like thinking."
Now, that affinity for mythic structures and alternative histories is taking center stage in a fully realized narrative project. Set within an expansive fictional universe, The Falcon’s Children plunges readers into a richly detailed landscape defined by invented geographies, political upheavals, and theological frameworks. The fictional lore boasts its own distinct historical markers and regional touchstones, including the Emperors of Narsil, the Mandoran Invasion of Brethony, the Skalbard Coast, Cranholt on the Mersana River, and Pharazel Maheris’s fictional chronicle, Lives of the Great Viceroys.
For those looking to sample the project ahead of its official print release, snippets of the narrative have been made accessible online, including the opening chapter, titled "High House," which remains available to read for free. Douthat himself has categorized the project as a work of speculative historical fiction, an approach supported by the extensive, data-dumping supplemental world-building documents he has published alongside the text. These companion pieces immerse readers in deep historical records, detailed notes on celestial hierarchies such as the Nine Archangels, and, naturally, a hand-drawn map of the Narsil Empire, fulfilling a time-honored tradition for epic fantasy literature.
Despite the meticulous world-building and the enthusiasm of its creator, the initial literary reception to the project has been mixed. When early portions of the novel debuted in 2023, critics did not pull their punches. Noted book critic Laura Miller reviewed the opening pages for Slate and offered a decidedly unimpressed assessment, remarking that if the remainder of the book mirrored the style and execution of Chapter 1, the entire manuscript stood in need of a comprehensive top-to-bottom rewrite.
Such critiques highlight the distinct challenges faced by political commentators attempting to cross over into commercial genre fiction. While the project has found a receptive audience among digital subscribers and those drawn to Douthat’s ideological framework, its broader literary merit continues to be a subject of debate among professional critics and fantasy aficionados alike. The impending print release via Luminor will undoubtedly broaden its reach, placing the novel before a traditional readership that may judge the work on its storytelling merits rather than its author’s journalistic pedigree.
As the publishing date approaches, questions remain regarding how the wider literary market will receive a religiously inflected YA fantasy trilogy penned by one of contemporary conservatism’s most recognizable public intellectuals. Whether the book will captivate a new generation of readers or simply serve as a niche curio for followers of Douthat’s commentary remains to be seen. In the meantime, the sprawling empire of Narsil, complete with its archangels, regional conflicts, and hand-drawn cartography, prepares to make its permanent transition from digital serial to bound volumes on bookstore shelves.
