The hidden history of world war two isn’t really hidden at all. It’s there on the internet for all to read, if anyone would care for a second to turn away from whatever the latest thing Honey Boo Boo said and read it.
This history has been hidden for our own good, and to protect the memory’s of those we lost, and those of the living.
Stories about war are almost always about heros. The more research I do into this war, the more I just find humans, with very human failings, and very human goodness. On both sides of the war.
By making heros out of soldiers, we honour those incredible men and women who have done, and continue to do the unthinkable, that those of us in the “thinking classes” would like to think we would never have to do. But we also teach another generation to idolise being a warrior, and to eagerly sign up to get themselves killed in the name of their country, usually to fight causes that are only interesting to the Government, and not to the people.
These are the things I think about. That keep me up at night. My stupid desire to write a movie. To want to change the world. If indeed it does become a catalyst to snowball into something, what will that be? Once we push the snowball off the cliff, we cannot predict the outcome. Perhaps it will just fall into the abyss, never to be seen or heard from again.
I wish I had just come up with an idea to put some pretty girls into bikini’s in an innovative way. And make a movie out of it. Or came up with a new way of turning a “lego-brick” girl falling in love with an abusive werewolf (Beauty and the Beast… Twilight... anyone?) into a movie. Or a way to “find” footage of kids getting scared of an unseen ghost, that we can produce for less than $20,000… and make millions from.
But instead I sit here, and try and write my very human story about two people falling in love in the wrong place and time. And… how about you?