It's the publishing sensation of the decade. In an exclusive to the Long Handle, we present extracts from Falling Down The Rabbit Hole: My Wonderland Hell by Alice Pietersen.

On Wonderland
I was young, I was naïve, I didn't always tread wisely - which is why I fell down the rabbit hole. But they weren't ready for someone like me. I was, big, boisterous and annoying, which is why they made me drink from that bottle. They just wanted to bring me down to their level. Then they gave me a cake that said "Eat Me" on it. So shoot me, I ate the cake. I grew back to full size again and they said I was big-headed. I couldn't win.

On the White Rabbit
Rabbit is a nice bloke, don't get me wrong, but he's utterly hopeless. He's a company rabbit, always has been. He's a safe pair of paws, won't rock the warren.

On the Tea Party
To outsiders, it probably sounds a lot of fun, but it wasn't all tea and crumpets. There was a clique at that tea party, it was run by certain individuals and if you didn't belong, you were fair game for bullying, mocking and all kinds of dumb riddles that made no sense at all.

On the Matt Hatter
They say I'm the big, brash, arrogant one. But the Matt Hatter just got louder and louder until I couldn't take it any more. It was the stupidest tea party I'd ever been to.

On the March Hare
To be honest, I don't think that hare is the brightest animal in the forest glade, if you know what I mean (he's a bit of a thicko, that's what I'm saying).

On the croquet defeat
A total shambles. I did my best, gave my all, but we were batting with flamingos. I don't care what anyone says, no one can play their best croquet under those conditions.

On the Queen of Hearts
She was the problem, no doubt about it, wandering around with that "who stole my tarts" expression on her face. A total mood-killer with a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp. It didn't matter how hard you tried not to hole out at midwicket, she always wanted you executed.

On losing the tarts
It was a farce. The tarts were the Queen's responsibility, she lost them, but she couldn't accept that. It had to be someone else's fault. Guess who? Yep. Blame it on the ten-year-old girl just because she's an outsider and much taller and more talented than everyone else.

On returning to Wonderland
I'm not prepared to accept I'll never go back, but obviously some things would have to change. I'm not going down any more rabbit holes, for a start. Maybe if they offered me some sort of looking-glass entry system, I might consider it.

Andrew Hughes' latest book is available here and here. @hughandrews73