A Vision That Wouldn’t Let Go  

I’ve been fascinated by science fiction for as long as I can remember. As a child, I devoured books and movies about the future, eager to see what lay ahead for humanity. But again and again, I found the same thing—dystopian worlds, bleak landscapes, and civilizations on the verge of collapse – or completely collapsed. The futures imagined in science fiction were just as dark and hopeless as the world I saw on the news.  

I kept thinking: Can’t anyone imagine a better future than this?  

I longed for a science fiction story that wasn’t about destruction or oppression but about hope—about what humanity could become if we stopped fighting each other and started working together. But no one seemed to be writing that kind of story. And I never imagined that I would be the one to do it either.  

Yet, somehow, that’s exactly what happened. Maybe it was my destiny.  

From an early age, I had an unshakable sense of justice. I was deeply shocked when I first learned what people did to each other—how conflict, exploitation, war and suffering were simply accepted as part of life. It didn’t make sense to me. Why couldn’t we just create a world where everyone had enough?  

Growing up, I was fortunate in some ways. My mother rented out rooms in our house, which gave us a small financial cushion—what I thought of as “free money.” That experience made me wonder: why couldn’t everyone enjoy something similar? Why did some people struggle while others thrived? That curiosity led me to a deeper question: where does money actually come from? As I explored the monetary system, I realized something crucial—not everyone could own houses to rent, because if everyone did, who would be left to rent them? The system was built on an imbalance, and for some to win, others had to lose.  

That realization stayed with me for years. Then, when I discovered The Venus Project (TVP) and its resource-based economy (RBE), everything suddenly clicked. Here was a vision of a world where everyone could live rich, fulfilling lives without exploiting anyone else. It was the kind of future I had always imagined, one where humanity had moved beyond scarcity, competition, and money itself.  

But there was a problem—this kind of world was almost impossible for most people to picture. The world as we know it is built on transactions, debt, and profit. To ask someone to imagine a society that functions without money was like asking a fish to imagine life outside of water.  

I could imagine it, though. I could see it quite clearly. And I realized that if this vision was ever going to reach people, I had to find a way to present it in a form they could engage with. That’s when I started writing Waking Up.  

At first, it was a screenplay. I wanted to tell the story through film, the most powerful medium for immersing people in new worlds. But just as I was working on developing it into a full production, life took an unexpected turn. A massive stroke left me unable to move the left side of my body. But luckily, cognitive function was not impaired. What followed was a long, difficult recovery, made even more challenging by a divorce. The film project, which I had once imagined would take only a few years, was suddenly an uncertain dream, indefinitely postponed.  

But something strange happened. Even in the hospital, when I could do little else, the ideas for Waking Up kept coming. It felt like the story wouldn’t leave me alone—as if it had to be written. I scribbled down ideas whenever I could, one handed filling pages with notes on my phone that I later incorporated into the screenplay. I kept refining it, making it the best possible version of itself.  

Yet, getting a full movie produced was proving to be nearly impossible. After 14 years of developing the screenplay, I had a realization: if I wanted this story to reach people, I needed another way. That’s when I made the decision to transform it into a novel.  

The timing of this decision was almost surreal. Years before any usable AI existed, I had written Waking Up with a concept called the GAI— the Global Artificial Intelligence. It was an advanced, benevolent global AI that helped humanity evolve beyond scarcity. At the time, this was pure science fiction. But then, in 2022, ChatGPT was launched, and suddenly, AI became a real, practical tool.  

When I finally decided to adapt Waking Up into a novel in 2024, it felt as if my own GAI had stepped out of the story and materialized in the real world, ready to assist me. Had I attempted to do the adaptation by myself, it might have taken another 14 years.. Especially with only one hand working.. But with AI’s help, it became a smooth, organic process—one that felt almost inevitable, as if the book was simply meant to be written now.  

As I wrote, I realized Waking Up was more than just a story. It was an invitation—a way to help people imagine a world where humanity has truly awakened. It isn’t about preaching a specific system or ideology. It’s about showing that another way is possible. A world without war. A world without exploitation. A world where humanity has finally learned to work together, not against each other.  

Now that the book is finished, I feel like my role has shifted. The story has been told. The next step is to see where it goes. I still dream of seeing Waking Up adapted into a film, and I have ideas for expanding its world into sequels. But above all, I hope the book sparks discussion. I hope it challenges people to rethink what’s possible.  

Because if enough of us can imagine a better world, maybe—just maybe—we can take steps toward making it real.