Where Did Laura & Maya Come From?

Bear with me; this requires some explanation.

I had plans. Lots of them. None involved Laura Chambers.

I had outlines for science-fiction novels. A trilogy about cryonics rewriting history. A strange, contemplative novel about memory and identity. A dystopia about an AI system that eliminates human suffering by making everyone relentlessly comfortable. At one point I was writing an irreverent history of civilisation.

And I had Harold Jenkins.

Harold came from watching what happens to cats when they live with children.

A cat can be on its way to the window to look at a bird. It has a plan. It has somewhere to be. Then an eight-year-old picks it up and carries it downstairs because the teddy bears are having morning tea.

As far as the cat is concerned, reality has simply changed without consultation.

That became Harold.

Harold would be going about his perfectly ordinary life when, without warning, the universe would pick him up and put him somewhere else. A Roman reenactment. A table-tennis tournament. A construction site. Whatever it had decided Harold was doing that day. He had no control over it. He just had to get on with things.

I was happily working on Harold when, and this is where it gets a little embarrassing, at about 2:45 one morning I got out of bed to go to the toilet.

And had a thought.

What would happen if a modern person suddenly found themselves in the Ice Age?

I went back to bed.

But I didn't go back to sleep. I started wondering what sort of person might have even a remote chance of surviving. They'd need outdoor skills, but I wasn't interested in some YouTube bushcrafter who could construct a four-bedroom house from bark and determination. I wanted someone reasonably ordinary. Someone who hiked. Competent enough to make sensible decisions, but still thoroughly dependent on the modern world.

Then I thought about shelter. Laura had an ultralight tarp and a Mylar blanket in her day pack, enough to help in an emergency, but not enough to live under.

So I Googled Ice Age caves.

And found Chauvet.

By morning, I had Chauvet, and I had Laura Chambers.

Then Maya Opened Her Mouth

Laura had a partner in the early version of Tell Me About the Lions. His name was Tom.

Tom was fine.

That was the problem.

I could never quite get him to work. I tried Laura with other friends as well. They were fine too. Some of their names eventually survived and were given to other characters, but none of them came alive beside Laura.

Then I tried Maya.

Maya had one job.

She was supposed to sit quietly while Laura talked about Chauvet. That's it. She was supposed to be an exposition device. Unfortunately, Maya opened her mouth. And it turned out she had opinions.

Almost immediately she developed a personality of her own. She challenged Laura. Amused her. Annoyed her. Laura behaved differently when Maya was around.

The strange thing is, I didn't notice what was happening.

A beta reader eventually asked me: “What is going on between Laura and Maya?”

I said, “What do you mean? Nothing.” Then I went back and read what I'd written. Oh.

So I went with it.

I hadn't intended Laura and Maya to be a couple. I hadn't intended Maya to be particularly important. I hadn't intended Laura to exist at all.

And yet here we are.

Laura and Maya have since turned up in different times, different genres and different lives. Sometimes they're together. Sometimes circumstances pull them apart. But wherever I put them, they're still recognisably themselves.

I never decided they would become the constant running through my books.

But given that the website is now called Laura and Maya, rather than Aaron's Mysterious Teleporting Cat Universe, I think we know who won.