I wrote the Golden Cord of Arram in my copious free time while doing freelance biomedical research in Taos, New Mexico: circa 1996 – 1998. The manuscript was shopped around by a literary agent, back then, who got feedback from a couple of potential publishers: “Great plot.” “Well done; good read.” “A real page turner; too bad I can’t publish it. It’s just far too ahead of its time.”
Well, this is twenty years later, and current events speak eloquently that time has finally caught up with it—because we’re living it now.
The story dawned on me late one night in my lab, while babysitting a hundred-gallon culture of Staphylococcus aureus: MRSA actually. (Picture that as a hundred gallons of concentrated pus.)
As I was saying, it dawned on me that a multitude of climatic, governmental, environmental, religious, social, and scientific issues plaguing the planet might all have a common cause. The idea grew out of a special knowledge I gained from a little-known scientific principle that just might explain it, and, despite how bat-shit-crazy it may sound, the hypothesis could not be scientifically disproved.
Then I mused that it might be great fun to tell people about my discovery. And what else did I have to do at 3:20 in the morning, in the middle of the Taos desert, with strange lights in the sky, and a sextet of howling coyotes for company?
Of course, I’m big on QA (quality assurance), so to see how it might fly, I related a brief version of the core storyline to my wife’s younger sister—a visiting dignitary—the next day over dinner. She wouldn’t let me finish because she was “too creeped-out by it” and would not be able to sleep that night if I didn’t “Stop talking, now!”. Since it expounds my deep-seated philosophy of life—and time and my sister-in-law wouldn’t listen to me—I’m telling it to you.