Grandpa once told me something that I still don’t quite believe: writers used to write on paper and stories made great snacks. A rat could nibble on them. Around the edges or – if they had time before being discovered – right through the middle. And they made even better nests. Now? Well, Deb writes on a metal thing. No snacks there. Not even a cord to chew through. One day I saw her plug a cord into it once I was in my cage. It still makes me huff a bit.
Does she have any books you can read? She’s completed the first draft of ‘Skin & Bone’. Is it good? Well I’m in it.
When will she have it finished? She’s muttering about revising it. (Why do writers put all those words down and then change them all again? I’m glad I’m a rat). I have seen some of it and I really want to know what happens next. In the end. With me and Malia and those friends she makes at the lake…
I might be saying too much. Deb has given me a firm talking to about not giving anything away so I’m going to stop there.
Write to Deb – tell her to hurry up.
Ratty
