After the Friday massacres in Christchurch we woke in New Zealand on Saturday to a different country from before. Our peaceful niche in the world had been blown away by the insane acts of terrorism perpetrated by a solo gunman.
We still suffered from the shock of it, on Saturday, but the new truth had sunken in. Even in New Zealand, this kind of abominable thing could happen.
In my 2016 novel, “The Assyrian Girl”, I included a sub-plot in which a solo Muslim extremist attempts an act of terrorism in Wellington, New Zealand. It was fiction but seemed just feasible. Never in my wildest imagination, then, would I have thought it feasible that a white extremist would massacre Muslims in our community. Perhaps that showed a form of racist prejudice on my part.
As a writer, I’m like a chef. I mix ingredients in a bowl and come up with an appetising product for my customers. In the case of the sub-plot in “The Assyrian Girl” I could not, in terms of fictional forecasting, have got the recipe more wrong .
My Christian prayers go out for the Christchurch victims.