I spent 10 years of my life writing a book about a boy who morphs into a cheetah to battle an evil race of aliens called the Yeerks only to find out this was the exact plot of Animorphs #11. So, I spent 10 more years rewriting it so the boy morphs into a rhino, and guess what? Turns out Animorphs did that too. I've learned that the only real, capital-T Truth in life is that pretty much all the good animals have already been taken, and it's up to each of us to accept this and move on, or else be eternally enslaved by that tiny voice in the back of our head that whispers 'Maybe no one's done barracudas yet...'