Q&A with Justin Maelzer

Where did the original idea for Side Effects come from?

It was just the concept of a drug with absolutely no downsides — no toxicity, no overdoses, no comedown, no side effects. If such a drug existed, I still think it would be controlled, so that was the core tension that drove the story.

Your protagonist, Cochrane, is a fascinating mix of agent, addict, and victim of manipulation. How did his character develop, and what did you want him to represent in the story?

He starts off as a totally regular guy, but he made a mistake in his past, dealing drugs, though he was small time, and that has led him down his path. His core struggle is to assert his own agency while being manipulated on both sides by the police and the criminals.

Side Effects explores questions of memory, identity, and control. Were you aiming to explore a particular theme or philosophical idea through the novel?

I think it comes down to just how fragile our sense of self is. All we are is our memories and our thoughts. And yet, many people take drugs to manipulate those very things. Cochrane assumes different identities as he pursues his investigation, and this can be seen as a metaphor for how his sense of self so easily disintegrates and is altered.

The world of Side Effects is filled with believable near-future tech, like the haemascope. How did you approach building this world? Did you draw on real science or trends?

Most SF employs technology, either futuristic or contemporary, to illuminate the story. The technology that has impacted humanity the most profoundly is definitely medicine and pharma — and yet, they are rarely portrayed to such an extent in SF. Certainly genetics feature a lot, but not other forms of medicine. I was keen to focus the tech on that, and throughout the book, there are references to lots of other drugs that are less important to the story, but give a sense of an ever-developing world. I also hoped to suggest that the characters don’t really know the limits of this technology — the cutting edge is in secured labs and classified research, and as a result, they don’t know who or what to trust.

Although Side Effects is clearly a thriller, it weaves in romance, memory, loss, and even psychological horror. How did you balance those different tones and genres — and was that mix intentional from the start?

It wasn’t intentional when I started writing. But once I focused on the flashbacks to the time in Mexico with Anna, it grounded the story in a very human way. The SF elements are very subtle in that section; it could almost be a contemporary story. That was the basis for the character and his story, and so in the main narrative we understand why he is carrying his burden. I didn’t worry too much about tonal balance — I always aim for character consistency and feel that if done well it can handle some changes in tone.

How did you approach writing Side Effects? Was it all planned from the start, or did the story and characters evolve as you wrote?

I write with a solid outline but always with room to add things that occur to me while writing. I find the act of writing itself quite stimulating, so while immersed in the characters, story, and milieu, of course other ideas come forth.

The title Side Effects hints at more than just drug reactions. What made you choose it, and what layers of meaning does it carry in the novel?

When I started it was called The Last Drug, which is descriptive but unexciting. Side Effects asserted itself while writing. Those two words appear a lot, and in many different contexts. For example: ‘There are always side effects... Look at me. My whole life is a f***ing side effect.’ I was most interested in the non-medical side effects — drug addicts can lose relationships, jobs, homes, social standing. These are all side effects not on the labels.

If you could say one thing to readers before they dive into Side Effects, what would it be?

The first chapter is meant to be disorientating, so stick with it.

Side Effects deals heavily with the ‘war on drugs’ and its complexities. Did you want to make a statement about that real-world issue?

I think I did early on, and there was a lot more about it in the first draft. One chapter got deleted entirely, when Cochrane testifies before a committee who are legislating against Z, which was very polemical. On the third edit, I pulled most of that stuff out because it detracted from the core story and felt a little bit like a lecture. I like that that stuff is there bubbling under the surface, expressed in a few lines of dialogue, but alluding to a whole other story.

Side Effects joins a long history of drug fiction, from William Burroughs to Irving Welsh. Do you consider the novel to be anti-drug?

Actually I think it's ambivilant, neither pro nor anti. I was not really interested in that aspect. I'm more interested in what those in power justify doing in the name of combatting drugs - frequently this is worse than the harm caused by the drugs themselves, but because addicts are so disempowered, they are easily victimised.

What do you hope readers take away from Side Effects once they’ve finished the book?

I just hope they enjoy the ride. It’s a pretty dark book and quite pessimistic, and I think that asks a lot of the reader to go with you in what is ultimately a tragic tale. I only hope they think it was worth the investment of their time.