Wherein Jack is going to do one of those random posts she warned you were liking to show up this month
Historical Fiction hurts to write. I have a new admiration for Historical Fiction writers. In fact, if it wasn't for my two NaNo buddies I would have given up and locked myself in my bedroom with ice cream. The only way I am going to finish this book is with their help. (There's a tip for all you writers out there. Get yourself a couple writing buddies and hold onto them. You will come to a point in your writing when you need them.)
That said, I need to keep this short and do some more reading before bed.
I asked my Bucky what I should post about today, a song or a snippet, and she said both. So you get both, thanks to her. And since I have been working on Brothers-in-Arms all day, you get some of that.
But first, I named the two friends. I don't know if I had them named last post. But their names are Franz and Japhet. Japhet is the Jew.
And that is all I have. Here. My favourite, not as painful scene as all the others I wrote today.
There were many times in the next few years when Japhet wished he could escape his world and flee to another one like Dorothy had done. He wanted to slip away and find himself in a place where the biggest concern was witches and shoes. He would even face the flying monkeys with courage.
He sometimes like to pretend he was able to escape into Oz. He would close his eyes when Nazis were standing in front of him, yelling at him, demanding he give up the others in the resistance. He would cast himself and others as the characters and imagine how different life would be.
He would be the cowardly lion looking for his courage. Courage to stand up to his friend, to stand up to the world even after the world took everything from him.
Jimmy was Dorothy, pulled out of the world he had always known and thrown into one that was insane and mixed up. And yet, that always made Japhet smile because Jimmy would – as he put it – have a cow if he knew Japhet cast him as Judy Garland. Not that Jimmy looked anything like Judy. He was too stringy and his nose was the wrong shape.
The Nazis were the Wicked Witch from the North. Out to take what they wanted and kill whoever got in their way. Sadly, they didn't die when they got wet.
The role of the Scarecrow was always filled by those who had insanity forced on them by the Nazis.
And Franz – Franz was the Tin Man. The man with no heart. The man who could coldly turn his best friend over the Nazis without batting an eye.
And now, one of the songs I listen to for inspiration. It reminds me of Franz. (Sorry, I think there is a word in it, I keep forgetting if it is this one or not. And it is more of a....rocky-ish song. Not the type I typically listen to, but it just fits him)
Quote is from Leverage when Haridson and Eliot have to work together and Eliot finds out Haridson can't aim.