Some stories chase the spectacular. This one chases everything we set aside on purpose—promises deferred, drafts unsent, the brave word we meant to say but didn’t.
The Archive of Unfinished Business is a standalone science-fiction novel about a secret place where the incomplete things we carry are safely stored…until the archive wakes up and begins to answer back.

About the Book

The Archive is not a library and not a prison. It’s a living system that observes the near-misses of human lives and preserves them:
the choice not made, the apology unsent, the invention one iteration short of working. When a young analyst discovers an irregularity in the catalog—an entry for a decision she hasn’t made yet—she’s pulled into a mystery that spans cities, servers, and the architecture of memory itself.

As the archive begins to “complete” items on its own, small corrections ripple outward: a reconciled friendship averts a crash; a shelved experiment cures a minor pathogen; a missed train spares a life. Then the system finds something it can’t complete without consent.
To stop a catastrophe, someone must decide to keep living.

Why I Wrote This

I’ve carried unfinished things—projects, conversations, parts of myself—longer than I like to admit. We all have. This book began as a question:
what if what’s incomplete about us is not a failure, but a vector?
A direction we are still allowed to choose. In that sense, this isn’t a bleak story; it’s a permission slip.

Who It’s For

• Readers who love near-future science fiction with heart and ideas.
• Anyone who’s ever opened an old notes app and felt the tug of the person who wrote it.
• Fans of standalone novels you can finish over a weekend and think about for weeks.

What Readers Will Get

• A propulsive mystery that respects your intelligence and your time.
• Human characters whose decisions matter more than spectacle.
• Big-idea questions about agency, technology, and mercy—anchored in a story that moves.

First Look (No Spoilers)

Our protagonist, Ada, audits anomalies across a network of repositories that should never have anomalies.
Her job is to ensure the Archive remains impartial. But when an entry appears tied to her future, the system’s supposed neutrality collapses.
If she intervenes, she contaminates the catalog. If she doesn’t, the Archive will make a choice for her—and for millions of others downstream.

The investigation unfolds across crowded metros, dim server halls, and an underground reading room where time feels slightly misaligned.
Clues arrive as nearly completed artifacts: a half-coded patch, a box with one photo missing, a letter that ends on a comma.
Each incomplete thing is a breadcrumb; together, they reveal the Archive’s true aim.

Unfinished doesn’t mean broken. It means still possible.