I’m writing a dystopian novel, called “There Said There Was…….“. Actually, there’s more to the title, but I have to keep that top secret, so that Big Brother doesn’t find it, and haul me away, for suspicious lack of Groupthink cooperation, with his big plans to make the world a better place, his way. So I’ve hidden the rest of the title away somewhere he and his troops can’t find it, until it’s too late. They’ll try to burn it, when they discover it, of course, as being dangerously free in its use of language (even a title can be deemed A Dangerous Idea), and ideas that aren’t officially sanctioned. The frightened global villagers will probably help build the bonfire, and throw in a few more books, just to enjoy the blaze, in these times of deprivation, and they’ll want to keep on the right side of him, as he can get rather strict, and punish those who don’t obey. They love that about him, actually. It’s so paternally firm.
They’ll try to burn your books too, as the rumour is that’s the next step in the plan, and already implemented in some places, but if you want to keep your stories, for when they are to be read, perhaps you’ll have to find hiding places for them, away from Big Brother’s All Seeing Eye, that wants to censor everything that doesn’t fit in with the Brave New World‘s agenda, and keeps close watch over us all, for everyone’s benefit. Possibly not for yours, though. So, find a cubby hole, then, to squirrel away your thoughts, if you are one of those resisters who still like to think, without the approval or permission of the group, because your story will be important some day, very soon, as others have been that went before you. You might give someone else hope, that interesting thoughts are still allowed, outside the plan, or at least give them a backstage peep behind the scenes, in the big pageant that Big Brother has organised for the public, with great rolling fanfares for inducing excitement and fear, alternately, in the masses under his thumb, or enthralled by his masterly tactics, in the civic warfare that constitutes daily life now.
Your story is important. Whoever you are. You were here at a moment when His (Big Bro’s) great plan was blazing like a firebrand, scorching through all your lives, and the thumb screws were being tightened, the racks prepared for the ongoing pageant, the scapegoats being hunted down for the ceremonial events, while The Resistance were being whisked away, behind the scenes, for other nasty surprises, like punishments for thinking, and thinking you’ll get away with writing about it, secretly. Every detail of your diary is proof of how Big Brother’s plan is meant to play out, and what that means in individual peoples’ lives, and you must preserve these records, at all costs. Be sneaky, and find a way to hide your story, out of reach. Give them to a friend, if you must, or hide copies, for distribution, lest Big Brother find a way to whisk you out of sight, if he spots you are writing dangerous ideas of your own down, so that you do not infect others, with your notions of freedom, and your own ideas, and doing your own thing, and seeing things in your own way; all that dangerous nonsense that won’t be tolerated any more. You know already his inducements to go along with what he wills for you, and just how harsh they can be, from having the screw turned on your own hand, and you’ve felt those screws tightening painfully, ’till you wondered would he finish you off, with no mercy, after all?
He enjoys all the pain and humiliation rituals, does Big Brother, our caring pater, as it keeps the sycophants and enablers on board. It brings him joy to offer scapegoats to point the finger at, to his faithful enablers, and see them blamed for all the woes. They cannot yet silence you, or stop you from writing it down. Not until they find the books, to burn them, to eliminate the idea of freedom, and they’ll come for your diary, then, too, so you must hide it, or encode it cleverly somehow, if it is easy to spot, for destruction by the troops. They will seek you out, to destroy you, and your stories. History needs your story, though, all the details of what Big Brother did, to you personally, and the people in your life. Don’t be afraid to write it down. We are The Resistance, and will always survive, even if and when they kill us. Keep that under your hat too, because Big Brother won’t find it there, if you refuse to take your thinking hat off, and bow and scrape before his image, daily, prostrating yourself for his pleasure, to get him salivating at the sight of your raw pain, stretched tight on his torture rack. He wants you to beg to do his bidding. Write instead. Keep writing, even if you think you can’t write. You have your story to tell. Keep notes, stick in pictures, or draw, keeping track of events, and what you think of them, especially if you fear you can’t capture it in words. Try. It doesn’t have to be a work of art. It’s just important to you to have a voice, even in secret, until you can pass it along, and it’s important to the next wave of resistance, that will know that you spoke about it. If enough of you do it, you’ll be heard. Big Brother is sending troops out to remove the records, now, but we must create new ones, so write it, keep writing it, and then hide it, where someone will find it when they need to read it.
Write about the small things, as well as the big picture, or instead, because the small things are not small. You are not small. Not insignificant. It is your story. You are history, even if only a passing note, and the more of you that write it down, the better history will remember what Big Brother did, in your life, in your world. What he did to you, and how he put the boot in your face, daily, and you were supposed to shut up and follow his orders, and kiss the boot that kicked you. Write it all down. It may be the only chance you get, to tell the next wave of the Resistance (there are always others, so do not feel alone), before they eliminate you, as unnecessary to the implementation of the big plan for the Brave New World. Someone will read it, after you smuggle it out to The Resistance, and be glad you wrote it. If they aren’t, well, you still got to speak, and that counts for something, in the fight for freedom.
“They Said There Was… “A new dystopian futuristic science fiction novel by Donna Emerald, is out now on Amazon, in paperback and Kindle editions. But, ‘cos I know Big Brother’s reduced many of you to penury, it’s free here on the blog, for subscribers to read, and even download, if you need to hide in a cupboard to avoid Big Brother’s eye on you. This is my second novel (the first one, “The Q Affaire”, is in both places, too).
Start writing now. It’s completely free to self-publish on Amazon, and I’ll even help you get it to print, if you want to spread your ideas, before someone decides you can’t speak at all. Or just keep a journal, scrapbook, or diary, with your thoughts. Thoughts are still legal, even if you have to hide them, to be able to spread the word that freedom is not a defunct idea, even in a dystopian world.