My byzantine, nearly published, SF novel revolved around a global peace movement protesting a war that didn't exist. The protests were a form of historical reenactment in a world addicted to simulation. Protest as dress-up and play-acting. Nostalgic, trendy role-playing, without any sense of what the reality actually means.
A clever idea. A little on the smug, snarky, snotty side, maybe. But clever.
I never for one freaking instant imagined it would actually happen.
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