Even though it's a TV show, these issues are very real and there's a real potential for healing when you get to see those stories.

Danger is real. Heartache is real. Fear is not. It’s a story we tell ourselves.

You will continue to read stories of crookedness and corruption - of policemen who lie and steal, doctors who reap where they do not sew, politicians on the take. Don't be misled. They are news because they are the exceptions.

Great stories tell hard truths.

Of course, our experience concerning such people also involves exposure to media. The selective-availability problems that arise because the media select interesting (if not sensational) news are well known. Consider the overestimation of murder as a cause of death relative to suicide.

When the media attention switches away from this story onto the next thing that happens in the world, the circumstances will still be there.

Have you noticed that life, real honest to goodness life, with murders and catastrophes and fabulous inheritances, happens almost exclusively in newspapers?”

We are a news network and we report the news as it happens. We must tell the stories we find.

Normally, there is your life, and you turn on the television and there is news, and no matter how grave it is, of how deep in the toilet the world has fallen,, or how relevant the information might be to your own existence, your life remains a separate entity from the news. You still have to wash your underpants during a war, don't you? And don't you still have to fight with your loved ones and then apologize when you don't even mean it even when there's a hole in the sky burning everything to a crisp? Of course you do. As a rule, there's no hole big enough to interrupt this interminable business of living, but there are exceptions, grim instances in the lives of a few select unlucky bastards when the news in the papers and the news in their bedrooms intersect. I tell you, it's a daunting and appalling moment when you have to read the newspapers to find out about your own struggle.

Oh, it was real, all right,” she says. “We lived it; we were there. If you go through something and put up with it even if you want to get away from it more than anything in the whole world, then it was definitely bloody real.

The images I am working with are taken from our daily media coverage of recent and almost commonplace happenings in newspapers, on TV and on radio of social and criminal acts of violence and ongoing unnecessary deaths – occurrences so frequent that they no longer raise an outcry from our public, yet they still constitute disaster in peacetime.

I think there’s a disconnect between science, the 1.5 degrees and the reality on the ground. We need to link it, we need to say a third of Pakistan is underwater, because we’ve just had floods that are melting glaciers, and we can tie that to China, and it’s industrial pollution. We can do all this. So how do you tell the story?

The film is about what happens when real people do ghastly things to each other, and sure, it shows those things because that's the tone of the film — fairly realistic.

(KASJ: What kinds of real-life events are useful for fiction?) JH: All of it is useful. It's very personal what will move one artist and what will move another. I think you can find [art] in both the smallest thing and in the most horrific catastrophe. It could be something as simple as the mystery of seeing someone enter a room, down to a major historical event like the Tasaday controversy or the Vietnam War. Everything is fodder. (The Women's Review of Books, March 2004)