Decisions, decisions!

Okay, so I’m 30,000 words into a new book and I’m not sure what to do next.  The ‘what if’ premise of this story is, ‘What if gene therapy can extend life to 500 years?’.  It’s set in 2050 and some smartass commercial scientist has discovered how to use viruses to change how the body does cell replication by selecting superior cells.

In typical fashion, I took real life research and went nuts with it.  After we went crazy with the whole communications thing and overworked the use of oil to such an extent we even managed to annoy space with our presence, what’s the next big thing?  Well, biomedical research is messing around with cloning, DNA mapping and custom designing drugs (not the fun drugs) to match our DNA and it’s predicted to be the next huge leap for mankind.

The question is, do we really know what the hell we’re messing with?  The whole cloning thing opens up a massive question around whether we’re physical beings with a soul or a soul with a physical presence.  If we replicate ourselves down to the same DNA, are we the same person or is there a whole different person in a body the same as ours?  Identical twins are actually two different people despite sharing an identical DNA, but what if we clone ourselves?

Oh no, now that opens up a whole new can of worms around, what exactly makes us who we are.  Are we really just a collection of cells that lives and breathes or are we souls floating about until we find a body to hang out in.  In which case, just how many souls are there waiting around for a body?  Is it like musical chairs and whichever soul manages to grab a body when the music stops, gets a go on the merry-go-round we call life?  Or are we like dust in the air and once we die, we settle back to being part of the dirt?

All good questions, but not the one I meant to ask.

I’ve got thirteen chapters of Jack Locke and his investigative research partner called Leanne Mace, and we’re at a crossroads in the plot.  I could go completely into orbit and take this story somewhere insane, but fun, or I could maintain a footprint in reality and wrap it up in ‘sensible’ way.  Personally, I’d rather write the insane version.  What’s the point of fiction if you can’t do the impossible.  Isn’t that the whole point of imagination, to go places reality could never take you?  If I go down that path, Locke is in for a rocky ride and I’m torn between wrecking his world or leaving the poor man with a modicum of dignity.

Nah, the dignified path is always the boring one.  Rules, who needs ’em?

I haven’t forgotten about the next series of the Hunter Wars and I even have chapter one and a plot map, but I wanted write something different for a while.  The gang are great, but I have so many stupid ideas that for some reason need to be written.  I’ve taken a break and I’ll see what other crazy subjects feel like getting some air time.

I’m going to the gym now, but when I get back I think I’ll make an even bigger mess of Locke’s day.  Poor fella, I bet he wishes some other nicer writer owned his life! 🙂