Ashes of the Moon Author's Notes
Author’s notes
I can’t remember writing notes about a story of mine before, unless someone asked me specific questions on a forum after posting; but since I thoroughly enjoy reading other’s comments about the choices they made when writing a fic, I thought I’d give it a try.
Inspiration
I began thinking about an African based J2 AU story after reading Neely Tucker’s wonderful book ‘Love in the Driest Climate’ in April 2008. The magnificent film ‘Hotel Rwanda’ also inspired me to think about expressing the horror and frustration and shame I felt during the Interhamwe, when I watched events play out from the safety of my home in Australia and felt so helpless and disgusted with the western governments. I was subsequently privileged to work with Friends of John Waluboine, an organisation that tried to assist one inspirational man - a hero in the truest sense of the word - as he rebuilt traumatised children’s lives.
But I strongly felt that to write about J2 RPS AU based upon the Rwandan genocide would be blasphemous. Others would disagree, arguing all topics are grist to the writer’s mill, and it is an argument that I vacillate on. Rightly or wrongly, however, I decided that my civil war would be a fictional one. This allowed me somewhat more freedom to explore the feelings the subject evoked in me without, I hope, exploiting an actual tragedy.
Language
I based the language spoken by Jensen and the children on Ciluba. Ciluba is the Bantu language of the Democratic Republic of Congo. I do not speak it, and it is represented here mostly in noun usage, since I have no understanding of the language and verb usage is fraught with problems. I have no doubt that I have probably committed some howlers here, but I wanted to give it a try. If any Ciluba speaker happens to read this story and discovers errors, please do let me know!
Jensen and the children also speak French, as most countries retain the colonial language for at least a generation. Jensen would have found it necessary to learn French as a lingua franca for when he was working with Gambanese and Kibilisi speakers.
Jensen also uses some South African slang. He would have been exposed to colloquial SA usage as a student at the University of Johannesburg, so I decided he’d probably throw in a few terms here and there. I have Zimi use ‘braai’ for barbecue, also a SA term, but one that I felt may well have been adopted by Kibi speakers. In the same way that you will hear a Wiradjuri child copying the latest US rap terms in outback Australia, so I felt some SA terms would have travelled north.
Setting
Kibilisa is a fictional country. I’ve only ever visited Africa through books, music, film, television and friends, so I wasn’t game to try and reproduce faithfully some place I’d never been - a lack of nerve on my part. I imagined Kibilisa to be somewhere between Tanzania and Zambia, so the geographical descriptions owe much to those countries (particularly Tanzania). I decided Kibilisa would be an ex-French colony, one that accepted Ugandan Hindu refugees after Idi Amin expelled them in the seventies - hence the betel sellers and the old Tata bus (of which I have fond memories from my travels in India).
Music
I love it when authors include soundtracks to their fic, but I can’t do the same here. There is no list of specific songs that inspired me. I did use the soundtracks to Blood Diamond (by James Newton Howard) and Hotel Rwanda as background writing music throughout.
There was one track that did have a place in this fic. As I wrote the chapter where Jensen is seemingly killed, I was playing an old compilation CD of mine (‘One World’) that I had never sat through and listened to before. The track that came on just as I was writing that part was ‘Spiritual High II/State of Independence’, a Vangelis cover by Moodswings/Chrissie Hynde. The music, the feel of it, was exactly right. I put that track on repeat for about ten times as I wrote that chapter.
Thank you so much for reading my story. I appreciate it, and if you care to leave feedback I would really value hearing your thoughts.
I can’t remember writing notes about a story of mine before, unless someone asked me specific questions on a forum after posting; but since I thoroughly enjoy reading other’s comments about the choices they made when writing a fic, I thought I’d give it a try.
Inspiration
I began thinking about an African based J2 AU story after reading Neely Tucker’s wonderful book ‘Love in the Driest Climate’ in April 2008. The magnificent film ‘Hotel Rwanda’ also inspired me to think about expressing the horror and frustration and shame I felt during the Interhamwe, when I watched events play out from the safety of my home in Australia and felt so helpless and disgusted with the western governments. I was subsequently privileged to work with Friends of John Waluboine, an organisation that tried to assist one inspirational man - a hero in the truest sense of the word - as he rebuilt traumatised children’s lives.
But I strongly felt that to write about J2 RPS AU based upon the Rwandan genocide would be blasphemous. Others would disagree, arguing all topics are grist to the writer’s mill, and it is an argument that I vacillate on. Rightly or wrongly, however, I decided that my civil war would be a fictional one. This allowed me somewhat more freedom to explore the feelings the subject evoked in me without, I hope, exploiting an actual tragedy.
Language
I based the language spoken by Jensen and the children on Ciluba. Ciluba is the Bantu language of the Democratic Republic of Congo. I do not speak it, and it is represented here mostly in noun usage, since I have no understanding of the language and verb usage is fraught with problems. I have no doubt that I have probably committed some howlers here, but I wanted to give it a try. If any Ciluba speaker happens to read this story and discovers errors, please do let me know!
Jensen and the children also speak French, as most countries retain the colonial language for at least a generation. Jensen would have found it necessary to learn French as a lingua franca for when he was working with Gambanese and Kibilisi speakers.
Jensen also uses some South African slang. He would have been exposed to colloquial SA usage as a student at the University of Johannesburg, so I decided he’d probably throw in a few terms here and there. I have Zimi use ‘braai’ for barbecue, also a SA term, but one that I felt may well have been adopted by Kibi speakers. In the same way that you will hear a Wiradjuri child copying the latest US rap terms in outback Australia, so I felt some SA terms would have travelled north.
Setting
Kibilisa is a fictional country. I’ve only ever visited Africa through books, music, film, television and friends, so I wasn’t game to try and reproduce faithfully some place I’d never been - a lack of nerve on my part. I imagined Kibilisa to be somewhere between Tanzania and Zambia, so the geographical descriptions owe much to those countries (particularly Tanzania). I decided Kibilisa would be an ex-French colony, one that accepted Ugandan Hindu refugees after Idi Amin expelled them in the seventies - hence the betel sellers and the old Tata bus (of which I have fond memories from my travels in India).
Music
I love it when authors include soundtracks to their fic, but I can’t do the same here. There is no list of specific songs that inspired me. I did use the soundtracks to Blood Diamond (by James Newton Howard) and Hotel Rwanda as background writing music throughout.
There was one track that did have a place in this fic. As I wrote the chapter where Jensen is seemingly killed, I was playing an old compilation CD of mine (‘One World’) that I had never sat through and listened to before. The track that came on just as I was writing that part was ‘Spiritual High II/State of Independence’, a Vangelis cover by Moodswings/Chrissie Hynde. The music, the feel of it, was exactly right. I put that track on repeat for about ten times as I wrote that chapter.
Thank you so much for reading my story. I appreciate it, and if you care to leave feedback I would really value hearing your thoughts.