I was overcome today by the overpowering desire to create. I want to create a world with humans so complex that they never cease to amaze me. I want it to teem with desire, despair, and ecstasy. I want what will be at first so simple to control slowly to grow beyond the point where even I can keep everything manageable.
I want to watch people make the wrong decisions so I don’t have to. I want to watch them band together when anyone else would have given up. I want them to fight for every inch that they can. I want them to find the answers—right or wrong. I want them to make their own answers. Answers I never would have made.
This world will be set in the (relatively) near future—a time when I can make up convenient gadgets to explain things I’m not clever enough to deal with. It’ll be set on Mars, for the most part. After we’ve made it mostly habitable and already begun to destroy it. This isn’t a new idea for me. I’m actually stealing someone else’s. I stole the idea from Hajime Yatate. He created Cowboy Bebop. I loved that series but I was so disgusted with the end—the last five minutes, to be precise—that I resolved to rewrite it as I thought it should end. That was . . . four years ago. Now, my world only vaguely resembles Yatate’s. And I want to set it free.
Things I know will happen:
Star Wars and Star Trek will be quoted
The main character will kill at least two unarmed men
One of the characters’ best friends (someone I love) will die
Things won’t work out just because they should
One character will be driven completely insane
Another will find (make, really) their own identity out of nothing
I want to be able to sit back in awe of my creation. I want so badly to create other people that it feels completely selfish and completely selfless at the same time.
If there is an all-powerful consciousness in our universe, I want this to be what it felt right before it created it.