Disaster fiction is, for some reason, a terribly British thing.
One of the great touchstones of FREAKANGELS is, of course, the work of John Wyndham. The genesis of FA came from idle wondering, standing outside in my garden having a cigarette one night, what would have become of his Midwich Cuckoos if they’d been able to grow up into disaffected and confused twenty-one-year-olds. My garden was, at the time, somewhat ravaged by the continual bloody rain that had hammered England that year and for the two years behind the previous year. Little did I know that a couple of months in my future, I’d be stuck on a motorway in the West Country while torrential rain literally blasted the tarmac off the road. Ten hours to make a three hour trip.