The Society of Authors has put out a call to writers to do something for Climate Action Week, so I feel justified mentioning this novel of mine.
Right now, beyond Lost Girl, I don’t have much more to add to this subject and crisis. Though the story is set in 2053, some of my imagined catastrophes appear to have already occurred since I wrote the book, others feel like moments away, not decades. I’m no Nostradamus – all of the information I used for research and inspiration is out there, readily available, much of it for decades. Perhaps it may prove to be our greatest tragedy: we always knew.
Anyway, I’m not sure I’ve written a more horrifying horror novel and The Red Father still walks out there … always looking to tell his story to new readers.