This project began with a concern about books.

I was reading about artificial intelligence, acceleration, and the possibility of systems that radically lower the barriers to knowledge. But the most current developments were often appearing in research papers, online essays, and technical reports—not books. By the time a book reached readers, parts of its account could already need revision.

That led me to ask a familiar question: What happens to books when information becomes inexpensive and readily accessible?

At first, I thought the answer might lie in what books preserve: sustained attention, an author's perspective, a coherent argument, a physical object we can return to. I still believe those things matter. But that answer began to feel incomplete. It described how books might defend their territory rather than what they might become.

A different question emerged:

When knowledge becomes accessible, what new relationships become possible?

That question is the beginning of a project called Sonexial Constellations.

From discovery to encounter

My work on Sonexial initially focused on making independent authors more discoverable through search engines and AI-mediated search. An author can produce something valuable and remain almost invisible. Better websites and structured information can help.

But discoverability largely accepts the existing arrangement: an author creates a book, the book enters a market, and someone searches near enough to find it.

I began wondering whether Sonexial could do more than improve that encounter's probability. Could it help create encounters that would not otherwise happen?

Not simply between a reader and a book, but between ideas, disciplines, and authors whose work has not previously been brought into meaningful relation.

The shift is from making knowledge findable to exploring what happens between bodies of knowledge.

What is a constellation?

A constellation, as I'm developing it, is an editorial investigation organized around a question that no single author or discipline owns.

It is not merely an anthology. Collecting several contributions under one heading does not necessarily change any of them. A constellation asks the contributions to enter into relation—to challenge, complicate, or redirect one another.

Its structure might look like this:

A concept meets another concept. A connection is proposed. Someone objects. The connection changes. A different question becomes possible.

AI can participate in this process by locating material, proposing bridges, identifying counterexamples, and helping us explore unfamiliar territory. Authors and other contributors can do the same, while bringing their own experience, commitments, and disciplinary understanding.

This is not a division in which AI generates and humans merely judge. It is a collaborative process whose participants can change both the direction of the investigation and the terms of the question.

The resulting book would preserve a particular journey through those encounters.

A structure still stratifies. Every editorial choice—which questions, which contributors, what counts as a connection—pre-decides some of what can appear. The honest version of this project doesn't pretend to a smooth space it doesn't have; it treats its own editorial apparatus as part of the investigation, open to the same objection it invites from everyone else.

The first investigation: AI and post-structural thought

The first constellation will begin with AI and knowledge, bringing them into contact with post-structural philosophy—particularly questions of relation, classification, boundaries, and the production of meaning.

Its question is:

When knowledge becomes accessible, what determines which connections become thinkable?

I don't want to assume that more information automatically produces more possibilities. Nor do I want to assume that AI merely reproduces what already exists.

The interesting work lies in examining particular connections.

Does a proposed bridge expose an assumption? Does it change the question? Does it suggest something we could investigate or do? Or does it simply give familiar ideas an unfamiliar appearance?

A connection that fails may be as revealing as one that survives. The project should make room for that failure rather than hide it beneath fluent prose.

Why make a book?

Because the point is not an endless stream of associations.

A book offers an opportunity to compose an encounter: to select, sequence, develop, and finally stop. The digital work surrounding it may continue, but an edition can preserve something definite enough to read closely, criticize, annotate, and share.

I'm interested in books that emerge from connections—not books that claim to contain everything.

An invitation to contribute

Sonexial Constellations is a small editorial experiment with a real question at its center. I'm looking for people willing to help shape it.

You might contribute:

  • A question that becomes difficult at the boundary between fields.
  • A concept or piece of writing that deserves an unexpected encounter.
  • Technical understanding of AI's capabilities and limitations.
  • A philosophical objection to the project's assumptions.
  • An existing essay, story, or other work you would consider bringing into dialogue.
  • Editorial or design experience that could help give the investigation a readable form.

You do not need to agree with the premise. A serious disagreement may be the most valuable contribution.

If you reach out, tell me which two ideas you think should meet, why their encounter matters, and what might resist the connection.

A connection that fails may be as revealing as one that survives. We intend to keep the failures in.