First I needed to decide on the type of animal that would populate my novel. It couldn’t be rabbits; Richard Adams had already done those. So I thought long and hard and came up with the answer. Rats! Big mistake. Everybody hates rats. Especially the ladies.
Then I thought long and hard about the setting for my novel. I wanted the story to take place in my home territory. So I chose an island in the River Forth. The little whale-shaped one that’s tucked under the Forth Railway Bridge. Big mistake. Everybody likes green rolling hills and leafy glades, not desolate wee rocks in the middle of the sea.
Still thinking long and hard, I supplied my rats with a history, I developed an ecosystem for them and, most importantly, I gave their colony a structure. Now that structure turned rapidly into a hierarchical society that was dark and vicious and unrelenting. It was Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four all over again – except in rat-land, of course. Big mistake. Ditto copycat above.
Finally, I set about writing the novel. That was in 1990. It was another twenty years before I finished it, but, hey, shit happens. And finally, finally, the novel was published. Big mistake. Nobody wanted to read it. See all of the above.
Anyway, despite those lovely reviews from those lovely ladies, nobody else wants to read my novel. Things are now so bad that I’m giving the freakin’ thing away. It’s FREE to download from Amazon all weekend.
It’s called The Island of Whispers, by the way. Yeah, I know. Big mistake.