This is a work of fiction, but it also isn’t.
On the fiction front, the picture of U.S. defense contractors presented by Howard Horner and John Bohnert is absolutely not meant to be representative. I personally know a couple of people who are serving in Afghanistan right now, and they’re motivated primarily by patriotism and belief in their mission. But anyone who has served with any of the companies who contract out this work will tell you that weeding out psychopaths is a constant, and not always achievable, priority.
On the nonfiction side, what Rose goes through in her transformation from village girl to sex worker is commonplace. Somewhere in some northeastern village, a young girl from a poor family takes the first steps on that path almost every day of the year. Particulars vary, but each of these women will endure a long process of change, leaving behind the names and the attitudes that once defined them and becoming someone almost completely new. The scene in which Teacher Suttikul and Mr. Pattison come to Rose’s house to confront her father is based on an actual event. In that case, I’m happy to say, the girl was able to remain in school, although it might just as easily have gone the other way. And it often does.
There’s a tendency in male-written novels about Bangkok to idealize bar workers or, in some cases, to demonize them: They’re lost innocents on the one hand and flint-hearted gold diggers on the other. The only thing I’m trying to say about them in this book is that every Nit and Noi and Fon is a real person who has been given a very narrow range of choices. I think that most of them cope with their difficult situation with a certain amount of grace.
I don’t know that we can ask much more of anyone.