So someone asked me what my novel was about. I told them I couldn't really answer that, since I didn't know. I said that instead, I'd tell them what it wasn't about.
It's not about fish, spaceships or books. There are no game machines, no dodgy gambling joints, no hotel rooms where strange things happen. There are no computers or televisions or high-tech robots. Furthermore, none of the characters have ever seen an electric light.
If you turn the pages, you'll see that there isn't any mention of America. That's because it's not about America, or Australia, or Italy, or Spain. And of course, we don't even think about the Netherlands or Africa or China. We might mention France once or twice, but never by that particular name, so that doesn't count either.
There are no pens. Paper isn't used and pencils aren't even invented. There aren't any cars or bicycles or buses; if you want to go somewhere you wouldn't take a train. There wasn't a non-holiday called Hallowe'en, though there was a date similar that might have gone by a different name.
There were no pianos, guitars, drum kits or basses. Nobody screeched into a microphone or walked down the catwalk to their new life, because that's one of the things that my novel isn't about.
Yes, there's a lot of things that my novel isn't about. I'd have a harder time telling you what it is about.