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The People I See From My Window. In The Huts, In The Distance. They're All Dressed The Same.' 'ah, Those People,' Said Father, Nodding His Head And Smiling Slightly. 'those People...well, They're Not People At All, Bruno.' Bruno Frowned. 'they're Not?' He Asked, Unsure What Father Meant By That.

-John Boyne

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The People I See

John Boyne

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The People I See From My Window. In The Huts, In The Distance. They're All Dressed The Same.' 'ah, Those People,' Said Father, Nodding His Head And Smiling Slightly. 'those People...well, They're Not People At All, Bruno.' Bruno Frowned. 'they're Not?' He Asked, Unsure What Father Meant By That.

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He Looked Down And Did Something Quite Out Of Character For Him: He Took Hold Of Shmuel's Tiny Hand In His And Squeezed It Tightly. "you're My Best Friend, Shmuel," He Said. "my Best Friend For Life.

Bruno: "why Do You Wear Pajamas All Day?" Shmuel: "the Soldiers. They Took All Our Clothes Away." Bruno: "my Dad's A Soldier, But Not The Sort That Takes People's Clothes Away."

I Am Frustrated By Celebrities Who Decide To Write Children's Books Because They Think It's Easy. That Drives Me Crazy. It's Frustrating Because It's Unfair To Children. Because They'll Get A Lot Of Attention, They'll Get A Lot Of Marketing Budget And So On Just Because They're A Celebrity - The Madonnas, The Ricky Gervaises, The Russell Brands.

But Still There Are Moments When A Brother And Sister Can Lay Down Their Instruments Of Torture For A Moment And Speak As Civilized Human Beings And Bruno Decided To Make This One Of Those Moments.

Their Lost Voices Must Continue To Be Heard.

And I Have Tried To Forget Him, I Have Tried To Convince Myself That It Was Just One Of Those Things, But It’s Difficult To Do That When My Body Is Standing Here, Eight Feet Deep In The Earth Of Northern France, While My Heart Remains By A Stream In A Clearing In England Where I Left It Weeks Ago.

I Don't Buy Into The Idea That An Irish Writer Should Write About Ireland, Or A Gay Writer Should Write About Being Gay. But When I Found The Right Story, I Saw It As An Opportunity To Write About Being A Teenager And Being Gay. Most People, Whether You're Gay Or Straight Or Whatever, Have Experienced That Relationship Where One Person Is Much More Interested Than The Other.

There Will Be Outrage And Disgust And People Will Turn On Me At The Last, They Will Hate Me, My Reputation Will Forever Be Destroyed, My Punishment Earned, Self-inflicted Like This Gunshot Wound, And The World Will Finally Know That I Was The Greatest Feather Man Of Them All.

I Like Reading Books About Kids Where There Weren't Really Many Adults, Where They Didn't Need An Adult To Come And Solve The Problems For Them. They Could Use Their Own Ingenuity, Use Their Own Talents To Solve Whatever The Issue Was. And I Like That Still. I Think That Children Want To Read About Heroic Children. They Don't Want To Read About Children That Have To Be Saved All The Time.

I Hope For So Much From Every Book I Read. And Time And Again, I Find Myself Disappointed. I Look Across My Bookshelves And See Hundreds Of Titles Which In My Memory Seem Merely Mediocre Or Second-rate. Only Occasionally Does A Novel Appear For Which I Feel A Lasting Passion, A Book That I Think Could In Time Become A Classic.

He Suddenly Became Convinced That If He Didn’t Do Something Sensible, Something To Put His Mind To Some Use, Then Before He Knew It He Would Be Wondering Round The Streets Having Fights With Himself And Inviting Domestic Animals To Social Occasions Too.

Well You've Been Brought Here Against Your Will, Just Like I Have. If You Ask Me, We're All In The Same Boat. And It's Leaking.

War Today Is Such A More Visible Thing. We See It On Television, On Cnn. In 1914, War Was A Concept. There Was A Naivety And Stupidity That War Would Be A Great Lark. It's Not That Different From Gone With The Wind, Where All The Young Men Can't Wait To Go Off To Fight And Then Two Hours Later In The Movie, We See How The Reality Of That Has Come Home To Them.

The People I See From My Window. In The Huts, In The Distance. They're All Dressed The Same.' 'ah, Those People,' Said Father, Nodding His Head And Smiling Slightly. 'those People...well, They're Not People At All, Bruno.' Bruno Frowned. 'they're Not?' He Asked, Unsure What Father Meant By That.

I Was A Very Quiet Child, Quite Introverted, Really. Independent, Yes; I Didn't Need A Lot Of Supervision. Less So Than I Did When I Got Older, Maybe. But I Was A Bookish Child, Not Surprisingly. I Could Sit Quite Happily In A Corner For Hours And Entertain Myself With Books.

In His Heart, He Knew That There Was No Reason To Be Impolite To Someone, Even If They Did Work For You. There Was Such A Thing As Manners After All.

What Exactly Was The Difference? He Wondered To Himself. And Who Decided Which People Wore The Striped Pajamas And Which People Wore The Uniforms?

I Like The Idea Of Standalone Novels. I Always Found With Series Of Books, It's Something That Publishers Love Obviously Because They Can Make A Lot Of Money And They Build An Audience From Book To Book, But I Don't Like That As A Writer. I Prefer The Idea Of Just Telling A Story, Completing It Within Your Book, And Moving On And Not Forcing A Child To Read Eight Of Them.

The Thing About Exploring Is That You Have To Know Whether The Thing You've Found Is Worth Finding. Some Things Are Just Sitting There, Minding Their Own Business, Waiting To Be Discovered. Like America. And Other Things Are Probably Better Off Left Alone. Like A Dead Mouse At The Back Of The Cupboard.

Do You See The Irony At All, Tristan?’ I Stare At Him And Shake My Head. He Seems Determined Not To Speak Again Until I Do. ‘what Irony?’ I Ask Eventually, The Words Tumbling Out In A Hurried Heap. ‘that I Am To Be Shot As A Coward While You Get To Live As One.

He Looked The Boy Up And Down As If He Had Never Seen A Child Before And Wasn't Quite Sure What He Was Supposed To Do With One: Eat It, Ignore It Or Kick It Down The Stairs.

Bruno Opened His Eyes In Wonder At The Things He Saw. In His Imagination He Had Tough That All The Huts Were Full Of Happy Families, Some Of Whom Sat Outside On Rocking Chairs In The Evening And Told Stories About How Things Were So Much Better When They Were Children And They'd Had Nowadays. He Thought That All The Boys And Girls Who Lived There Would Be In Different Groups, Playing Tennis Or Football, Skipping And Drawing Out Squares For Hopscotch On The Ground. As It Turned Out, All The Things He Thought Might Be There-wern't.'' -the Boy In The Striped Pajamas

With The Adult Ones, I Feel I Need To Get As Deep Inside The Psychology Of A Character As I Can, And That Needs To Be First-person. In The Children's Books, I Feel I Need Some Distance. I Don't Want To Be The Nine-year-old At The Center Of The Story. I Need To Have Some Type Of Narrative Voice.

I Think That Books For Young People Should Have Serious And Important Themes, They Shouldn't Be Trivial. So The Books I Write, They Would Be The Kind Of Stories You Would Write In An Adult Novel Only They Just Happen To Feature A Child At The Center Of Them.

... Nine-year-old Boys Usually Turn Ten At Some Point. It's The Nineteen-year-olds Who Have Difficulty Turning Twenty.

I Don't Change The Language For Children Books. I Don't Make The Language Simpler. I Use Words That They Might Have To Look Up In The Dictionary. The Books Are Shorter, But There's Just Not That Much Difference Other Than That To Be Honest. And The Funny Thing Is, I Have Adult Writer Friends [to Whom I Would Say], "would You Think Of Writing A Children's Book?" And They Go, "no, God, I Wouldn't Know How." They're Quite Intimidated By The Concept Of It. And When I Say To Children's Books Writers, Would They Write An Adult Book, They Say No Because They Think They're Too Good For It.

Very Slowly He Turned His Head Back To Look At Shmuel, Who Wasn't Crying Anymore, Merely Staring At The Floor And Looking As If He Was Trying To Convince His Soul Not To Live Inside His Tiny Body Anymore, But To Slip Away And Sail To The Door And Rise Up Into The Sky, Gliding Through The Clouds Until It Was Very Far Away.'' -the Boy In The Striped Pajamas

Today People Can See And Protest All The Different Interests That Want War To Happen, The People It Financially Benefits. The First World War Wasn't Fought For That Reason. The Second World War Wasn't Fought For That Reason. Your Entire Country And Way Of Life Could Be Overtaken.

You’re My Best Friend, Shmuel,’ He Said. ‘my Best Friend For Life.

Friends For Life

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Sitting Around Miserable All Day Won't Make You Any Happier.

It Reminds Me Of How Grandmother Always Had The Right Costume For Me To Wear. You Wear The Right Outfit And You Feel Like The Person You're Pretending To Be.

Unless You're Very Boring, I Think Most People Who've Lived Long Enough Have Something In Their Past Which Will Never Go Away. As A Writer, My Interest Has Become In Writing About Much More Emotional, Personal Topics. I'm Trying To Reach Into Subjects I Have Never Written About Before.

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...despite The Mayhem That Followed, Bruno Found That He Was Still Holding Shmuel's Hand In His Own And Nothing In The World Would Have Persuaded Him To Let Go.

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(j)ust Because Your Version Of Normal Isn't The Same As Someone Else's Version Doesn't Mean That There's Anything Wrong With You.

Bruno: We're Not Supposed To Be Friends, You And Me. We're Meant To Be Enemies. Did You Know That?

Children's Book Writers Tend To Feel Quite Superior, And Adult Writers Tend To Feel They Wouldn't Know How To Write A Children's Book - Which Might Surprise You Because I Think A Lot Of People Think It's The Other Way Around.

It Is Possible, You Know, To Drift Off To An Unknown World And Find Happiness There. Maybe Even More Happiness Than You've Ever Known Before.

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. . .only The Victims And Survivors Can Truly Comprehend The Awfulness Of That Time And Place; The Rest Of Us Live On The Other Side Of The Fence, Staring Through From Our Own Comfortable Place, Trying In Our Own Clumsy Ways To Make Sense Of It All.

I Was Dropped By My Publisher After My First Two Books. But I Always Believed In Myself.

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