So the World Is Ending — Which Apocalypse Would You Actually Survive?

I’ve spent a concerning amount of time thinking about how the world ends.

Different methods. Different timelines. Different levels of drama.

Sometimes it’s a cooling sun.
Sometimes it’s a virus.
Sometimes it’s aliens.
Sometimes it’s five women with superpowers and a revenge agenda who accidentally take out a city block.

(That last one is technically not a global apocalypse, but if you live on that block, it feels personal.)

The point is: I have opinions. Professionally. (Which feels like a generous term, but we’re going with it.)

And the question nobody is asking—but absolutely should be—is this: Which apocalypse are you actually built for?

Not which one you want.
Nobody wants any of them.

I mean which one fits your personality, your coping mechanisms, and your willingness to make slightly questionable decisions under pressure. Be honest. This is a judgment-free zone. Mostly.


The Ice Age / Climate Collapse

Cold. Slow. Deeply unfair.

This one sounds survivable until you realize “slow” just means you have front-row seats to everything getting worse.

Food shortages. Government rationing. That one guy who suddenly knows way too much about thermal layering.

It’s not panic. It’s a long, drawn-out sigh.

Who survives:
People with patience. People who can follow systems without losing their minds. People who own twelve blankets and think soup is a personality.

Who doesn’t:
Anyone who needs quick wins to stay motivated. Anyone who says “I’ll deal with it later” and means it. Anyone who would, hypothetically, create a problem just to escape a worse one. (We love her. She will not thrive here.)

The honest assessment:
The most emotionally stable, slightly boring person you know? They’re making it.

The rest of us are… forming dramatic character arcs.

Also, I hate the cold on a spiritual level, so my odds here feel… limited.

If this is your vibe:


The Alien Invasion

Highly dependent on the aliens. Which feels unfair.

There are two very different versions of this:

  1. “We’re here for your resources. Good luck.”
  2. “We did not realize your planet was… like this. Do you need help??”

Those are wildly different survival strategies.

Who survives (friendly aliens):
Curious people. Flexible thinkers. People who don’t immediately assume “tentacles = enemy.”

Who survives (hostile aliens):
The negotiators. The ones who figure out what the aliens want and go, “Okay, how do we make this work without dying?”

Who survives neither:
People who decide in the first five minutes what’s happening and refuse to update that opinion.

Bold. Committed. Incorrect.

The honest assessment:

Your survival odds depend entirely on which aliens show up, which feels deeply outside your control and, frankly, I don’t like that.

If you like this chaos:

  • My book: Connecting / Departing (Earth’s Only Hope) — telepathic bonds, morally complicated aliens, and feelings nobody planned for
  • Try also: The Host by Stephenie Meyer (classic “aliens but make it emotional”) I loved this book. The movie? Not so much.
  • Indie pick: Stolen by the Warlord by V.K. Ludwig (very popular indie sci-fi romance—aliens, tension, chemistry) – Way naughtier than anything I write, but lots like aliens this way.

The Pandemic / Mysterious Virus

Quiet. Personal. Uncomfortably realistic.

No explosions. No dramatic speeches.

Just small choices.
Bad timing.
And people doing very human things that make everything worse.

Who survives:
People who can compartmentalize. Follow protocols. Make hard calls and live with them.

Who doesn’t:
People who love other people.

So… most of us.

The honest assessment:
This one isn’t about strength. It’s about what you’re willing to sacrifice—and most of us already know our answer.

I’m a pharmacist—currently choosing writing over pushing pills—and I know just enough about how viruses actually work to be uncomfortable with how I’d do here.
I’m choosing not to elaborate.

If you want this flavor of pain:

  • My book: Departing — closed environment, rising stakes, and the slow realization that this is not contained
  • Try also: Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (character-driven, emotional, quietly devastating) Love the Great Lakes setting — my home.
  • Indie pick: Broken by Imogen Keeper (post-pandemic survival with strong relationship focus)

The Resource Collapse

No power. No systems. Just vibes and bad decisions.

This is the one where nothing works anymore.

No reliable electricity.
Supply chains? Gone.
Society? Hanging on by a thread and a questionable group chat.

It’s not one big event—it’s everything slowly… not working.

Who survives:
Resourceful people. Problem-solvers. The ones who can look at a broken situation and go, “Okay. We’ll figure something out.”

Who doesn’t:
Anyone who assumes things will go back to normal.

They will not.

The honest assessment:
This is the apocalypse where community matters most… which is unfortunate, because people are a lot.

If this is your nightmare (or your jam):

  • Try: The Book of the Unnamed Midwife by Meg Elison (gritty, survival-focused, not pulling punches)
  • Indie pick: Edge of Collapse by Kyla Stone (self-pub favorite, survival + relationships) Plus, I’ve worked with Kyla in the past on other projects.

 The Supervillain Uprising

Chaotic. Stylish. Slightly wine-forward.

This one is technically preventable, which somehow makes it worse.

Because it means someone messed up.

And now the people labeled “villains” have very valid points and extremely destructive ways of expressing them.

Who survives:
People who can read between the lines. Who question labels like “hero” and “villain” and go, “okay but what actually happened?”

Also: people who can duck.

Who thrives:
Honestly? Observers. The ones watching the chaos thinking, “they’re not wrong though.”

The honest assessment:
This is the only apocalypse where you might accidentally find a favorite.

Morally? Concerning.
Emotionally? Understandable.

If chaos is your comfort zone:

  • My book: Nemesis — supervillains, revenge, found family, and feelings nobody budgeted for
  • Try also: Hench by Natalie Zina Walschots (villain-side perspective, sharp and clever)
  • Indie pick: Villains Don’t Date Heroes! by Kimberly Renee (fun, romcom energy with powers)

So… which one are you surviving?

My completely professional conclusion, after years of ending worlds (as a writer, not as a licensed medical professional, just to be very clear):

It’s not the strongest people who make it.
Or the smartest.
Or even the most prepared.

It’s the ones who adapt.

The ones who find someone worth surviving for.
The ones who make questionable decisions… and then stand by them.

Which feels like a good sign. Or a concerning one. I’ve stopped being able to tell.

You know.
Main character behavior.

So tell me—what’s your apocalypse?

(Be honest. I’m judging you a little, but in a supportive way.)

And if you want to see how my characters handle it (spoiler: with varying levels of success and emotional stability), you can start here with the Earth’s Only Hope Series.


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