Sci-FiTy1972: Blog

Hey friends,

With the upcoming snow event on the way, I wanted to do something small but meaningful for everyone who’s been walking this journey with me.

I’ve gone ahead and posted some early chapters.

Not because of an algorithm.
Not because of pressure.
But because stories are meant to be shared, especially when the world slows down a little.

If you’re snowed in, stuck inside, or just looking for something to sink into while the weather does its thing, I hope these chapters give you something to escape into, something to feel, and maybe something to think about.

My stories about more than sci-fi.

They are about responsibility.
About love under pressure.
About what we choose to build when the future shows up early.

Thank you, sincerely — for reading, for supporting, and for being part of this. Whether you binge a few chapters or just dip in for a scene, I’m grateful you’re here.

Stay warm. Stay safe.
And I’ll see you in the next chapter.

— Sci-FiTy1972

This story has grown in a very organic way. What started as a single idea has become a living world, and as I’ve gone deeper, I’ve realized some early chapters needed to evolve with it. So you may see a bit more frequent posting for a while as I lay down a stronger foundation.

Some arcs will move faster. Others will take their time. That’s intentional. I refuse to rush this world or cheat the characters or us out of the depth it deserves.

I’m just a regular Midwest guy who loves his family, believes in earned trust, and happens to love good science fiction. This story carries all of that. Thanks for walking it with me.

More soon. The long road is just getting interesting.

I’m Posting the First Chapters of a Story I Didn’t Expect to Write: I didn’t set out to write a science-fiction story about fleets, first contact, or the fate of civilizations.

I set out to write about two people meeting at a turning point in their lives—and choosing each other anyway.

The story starts small. Almost unremarkably so.

A man comes home after service, unsure what to do with the quiet.
A woman who seems grounded, kind, and far more perceptive than she lets on.
Family dinners. Awkward humor. Coffee. Choices that feel ordinary until you realize they aren’t.

Only later does the story widen.

And when it does, it asks questions I didn’t expect to be writing about:

What does power cost when it’s used carefully?
What happens when restraint fails—not morally, but situationally?
Can protection exist without domination?
And what does it mean to lead when the stakes are no longer theoretical?

This is not a story that rushes to spectacle.
It’s a story that believes character comes first, even when the universe gets involved.

I’m going to start sharing the opening chapters here—slowly, intentionally.

If you’re looking for instant explosions and easy answers, this may not be for you.

But if you’re interested in a story about love, family, choice, and what happens when humanity is forced to grow up without losing itself—I think you’ll want to keep reading.

The first arc is small by design.

The rest of the story… isn’t.

What if God was one of us.....A stranger wanders Walmart for a couple of ordinary hours. No mission. No miracles. Just aisles of cereal, tired cashiers, small kindnesses, and quiet human truths. A philosophical, gently funny meditation on modern life—where meaning hides in shopping carts, patience, and the unnoticed grace of simply paying attention.

When I began writing Brevis Vita, I wasn’t trying to tell a story about time.
I was trying to ask a quieter question:
What makes a life meaningful when there isn’t much of it?
As the story grew, I realized the answer wasn’t found in how long Ari and Briana lived — but in how deliberately they chose to live. Their world is fast, their days are brief, and yet their choices are full of intention. They do not measure life by duration. They measure it by presence.
That idea became the heart of the book.
The epilogue may surprise some readers. It widens the lens in a way that reframes everything that came before it. But that shift wasn’t written to shock. It was written to honor the question that quietly lives beneath the entire story:
Who decides the value of a life?
Sometimes the most unsettling truths are not violent. They are normalized.
Sometimes the most dangerous systems are not cruel. They are comfortable.
And sometimes the most important stories are not about changing the world — but about learning how to see it clearly.
If this story leaves you thinking, then it has done what I hoped it would do.
Thank you for walking through this world with me. And thank you for listening just as these characters learned to do.