Some ideas find you in fun places.

Early on in the writing of Book 1, I was visiting my sister and now brother-in-law in Glastonbury.

A strange spiritual home of sorts due to its epic musical festival.

It was before they had the boys (my two wonderful nephews!) and I found myself alone in a coffee shop, nursing a latte and letting my mind wander.

Later that same day I climbed the Tor, ideas brewing, and somewhere between the coffee and the climb, something found its way into the mythology of the Monkey State trilogy.

The name of the cafe would play a central role.

More on that in a moment.

Firstly, here's Chapter 1 of the short story I'm working on that shares the same name.

It's for fans who want to go deeper into the fantasy world of Eldervaria.

Note - It's currently written in first person (a fun writing adventure for me), though I may change that for the final version:

Chapter 1: Genesis

In the beginning, you hold passionate hopes and fanciful dreams. Visions of a better future. Goals for progress. A new order. But turning dreams into realities, is where the challenge truly begins.
Fuerza Fireheart

The large branch beneath my weight bowed, fibres creaking, but it held. My tail coiled for extra balance as my speech rolled out across the upper canopy. It came back to me, deeper than I expected. An out of body experience. They all watched me. But no words came back. No affirmation. No complaint. What did they really think?

“Although I’ve never wanted it…” I said. “I sense I must do it. I would be honoured to lead. Help every single one of you. I will fight with all my heart to do so.”

I felt it in my chest, a certainty, the knowledge that I could still command attention when it mattered. Would that be enough?

Applause rippled around. Strong. Encouraging.

Far from conclusive.

I climbed back among the others.

We had come together from different tribes, different parts of Eldervaria, drawn by the same hunger; for something more. A curious collection of monkeys really. Brave souls. Escape artists. Rebels? One hundred and three of us to be precise. A shared desire for freedom for sure. The longing to create a new society. Of our own. Utopia visions. A new tribe. And I guess every tribe needs a leader.

Tiarra took her place on the main branch, a gentle smile. Patches of green laced her fur, catching the light brilliantly as she adjusted her grip. She seemed almost grown from the rainforest itself, not set apart from it. When her gaze met mine, it held a little longer than necessary. Or maybe I imagined it?

Close by her side clung Viridia, her sister. Broader through the shoulders, heavier in the limbs. More serious. Where Tiarra seemed to listen outward, Viridia watched the space around her, alert to the monkeys close by. The same green marked her fur, yet dulled by shadow and tinges of grey.

“Strength alone will not suffice,” Tiarra spoke to the sky. Her voice was almost like song. “We must learn to listen to each other, and to the rainforest. From the root network, to the branches of the trees, to our skin and inside our heads and hearts. Trust the luvé. A future rushed—without a unifying vision—will collapse beneath its own weight of desire. I am happy to help us craft this vision, to find it… and to live it.”

The gathering quieted. I felt her words settle among us, not loudly, but intensely.

“Listening will not protect us,” Cherosa said and the young male hauled himself higher, smaller than me but tightly bound with muscle and intent. “Dreams are not enough.” Hanging with both palms, grip fierce, his eyes swept the group, sharp and searching.

“Action will win the day. Strength is needed from us all. We must strike out and find a home. A leader who simply waits for the forest to decide this… is no leader in my eyes. Trust me to forge this new moon.”

Murmurs followed. A few growls. Chest pumps as several males edged closer to him.

“You all speak some truths for sure.” Viridia said without raising her voice but a startling flash of green pulled my focus away from Cherosa to her..

“A leader must hold when others slip.” she said. “Must remain when others scatter. Make those hard choices for the best of the group. See beyond the individuals.”

Approval followed, so it seemed, low and steady. She would command many votes.

“Thank you to our four volunteers” Reginald announced. An old pichu. Older than any of us could guess. Fur pale and wispy, his movements slow but wise as an ancient sprite monkey. “Let the trials commence.”

***

[Monkey State Prequel Short Story - Release Date TBC ]

That coffee shop in Glasto was called The Hundred Monkeys.
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I hope it's still going strong.

But where does the name come from?
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Well, in the 1950s, researchers observing macaque monkeys on a Japanese island noticed one monkey had learned to wash sweet potatoes before eating them. Gradually others copied the behaviour. Then something strange was claimed to happen. Once enough monkeys had learned it, the behaviour seemingly leapt to monkeys on entirely separate islands, with no contact whatsoever. A kind of collective awakening.

Scientists have debated the evidence ever since.

For me it worked as a neat way of tying in the very start of the Pichu tribe and Tierra Libre.

100 monkeys, of all walks of life, coming together to form a new utopian vision...

A vision that has turned more dystopian come the times of Claude and Tia Talador.

I'll let you know when you can get your tails on a free copy of the full version. I'm thinking 3-5 chapters max. A short short story that could be devoured on your mobile device.

Until then Hang Comfy,
J. R. Roberts
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P.S. The first book recently hit 100 reviews on both the UK and US Amazon stores. A big thank you to anyone here who left one of those. I wonder if the hundred monkey effect can kick in here now haha...