Tag Archives: Fiction

#31ZombieAuthors – Day 19 Interview – Eric A. Shelman – It’s Never Too Late

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FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon         Website

Facebook        Twitter

Today’s guest is Eric A. Shelman, author of the Dead Hunger series.  Readers can follow the journey of Flex, his niece Trina, Gem, Hemp and Charlie as they make their way through a zombie infested world.

Eric’s first book was a non-fiction work.  Co-authored with Dr. Stephen Lazoritz, Out of the Darkness: The Story of Mary Ellen Wilson tells the story of the first successful rescue of an abused child in America.  Specifically, nine-year old Mary Ellen was saved from a terrible situation in 1874 by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, or ASPCA.  The case shined a much needed light on the dangers children face and was the precursor to many of the child abuse prevention laws in place today.

Thanks for helping me out today, Eric.

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Q.  Zombies.  They shuffle along.  They groan and grunt.  They eat brains.  You’d think authors would have run out of ways to make them unique and original by now but sure enough, writers are always coming up with new spins on the zombie genre.  How do they do it and what’s your secret?

A.  Zombies can absolutely be shufflers and shamblers and have some new features, too.  My Dead Hunger series has several interesting aspects to it; the very process that reanimated them also incorporated other chemical reactions within the zombies, which I suppose is to be expected.   These reactions became abilities.   This is even more true in my females who were pregnant when they turned.   What in nature is created – no matter how it’s created – without any offensive or defensive skills?   The lowly cow is even designed with its eyes on the sides of its head so that it has better peripheral vision to assist it in escaping predators before it’s too late.   Birds have talons, sharp beaks and great eyesight.   Most creatures are equipped for the task at hand.    Why not zombies, too?

Q.  My first observation about Dead Hunger is the collection of characters.  People from different backgrounds working together for survival.  There’s scientist/mechanical engineer Hemp, punk rocker Charlie, Flex the electrician and Gem the artist.  What is it about a zombie apocalypse that brings people together?  Would these folks have likely bothered with one another without a common threat facing them?

A.  I believe in any apocalyptic situation, you’re going to encounter compatibles and non-compatibles.   The latter you’ll just say hi and bye to, but the former you’ll try to get to come along.  Sometimes the latter want to kill you and take your stuff!   That’s when you’re forced to take them out.   But with regard to Flex and Gem, of course they’d have been together … eventually.  They were once together, after all.   No, they would likely have never met the likes of Hemp and Charlie, and Hemp and Charlie would never have encountered one another, but that’s the beauty of a disaster, right?   Giving strange bedfellows a chance to actually become “familiar bedfellows.”    AND to find out that the other isn’t so strange after all.

Q.  Hemp experiments on zombies in a mobile lab to figure out what makes them tick.  While I don’t mean to ask for spoilers, do you have any general thoughts on zombie physiology?  Are there any prevailing theories on what could, hypothetically speaking, cause a human to become zombified?

A.  In Dead Hunger, each individual cell within the zombie’s body is converted into a meat-seeking entity.  If you were to take a lil’ microscopic chunk of raw beef and insert it into the epidermis of a zombie, all the neighboring cells would zip right in and devour it.   Because the eyes still work, and the senses that ramp up hunger, the muscles coordinate and move in the direction of sustenance.   Yeah, that would be us … human meat.   So … my zombies reanimate on a cellular level – whatever the hell that even means.

Q.  On your author page, you mention that in 1999, after writing a 53,000 word book about witches and reincarnation, you couldn’t figure out how to finish it and ended up on a twelve year writing hiatus only to be inspired by reading about the success of other zombie authors on Facebook.  It’s never to late to pick up a delayed dream, is it?  For anyone who’s set a goal aside for awhile, what advice would you have to motivate him/her to pick it up, dust it off and give it another try?

A.  I was a fool to have quit writing for so long.   Imagine all the fiction I could’ve produced in that decade?  I mean, I’ve got 15 books now, and 11 of them were written just since 2011.  Just FOUR years!  So yes – it’s never too late to start pursuing your dream of becoming whatever it is you want to become.   It’s important to remember though, that in my early writing career, I sent out queries and did all the things you’re supposed to do.  I never really had any success back then.  All that rejection helped me hone and polish my skills, though, and I believe every writer has to do the work and experience that negative feedback in order to figure out where improvement is needed.   As for me, I guess maybe I needed that additional dozen years for things to become easier for individuals, through programs and offerings such as CreateSpace, Kindle  and ACX for audiobook production.   They made it possible for me to kick the old guard to the curb and hatch my own creations.    Some of what we indies put out are hits – others misses.   I hope my readers feel I’ve given them more hits than otherwise. 

Q.  You’ve also written non-fiction with the case of Mary Ellen Wilson.  What drew you into writing about this case?

A.  Back in the mid-nineties, I was ready to write a novel.   I was a big fan of horror, and had written several short horror stories, but found that the market for publication of these stories seemed to be shrinking.   The logical next step was to go all out and finally just write a book.   I discovered a book of what were deemed “amazing-but-true” stories, and thought I would take one of those “true” stories and use it as the basis for a horror novel.   Within the book, I discovered the story of a little nine-year-old girl named Mary Ellen, who, in 1874, was rescued from her abusive home by the American Society for the Cruelty to Animals.   (ASPCA)  I immediately became interested, as it was essentially the story of the beginning of the child protection movement, but nobody had ever written about her before.

After researching her case, I began the book.   With more research, I found the man who would eventually become my co-author, Dr. Stephen Lazoritz.  He was a pediatrician who specialized in child abuse cases.  Together, we made connections that allowed us to be the ONLY people in America to secure a copy of the court transcripts for the trial that prosecuted Mary Ellen’s foster mother, Mary Connolly.   These transcripts also allowed us to complete the book, with all of the newfound knowledge the transcripts contained.   The book was released in 1999, and since that time, thousands have been sold and both Stephen and I have spoken at national conferences and on CSPAN-2’s Book TV.  (1999)

Q.  For those interested in writing non-fiction, do you have any tips to share?

A.  Find a compelling story that nobody’s written enough about – then write about it!  Figure out how you want to impart the information, and have a LOT of people read it before you publish it.

Q.  Eric, thanks for offering your expertise in light of my zombie infestation.  Before I go, do you have any list minute words of wisdom that might help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

Get a good group of loyal people around you and get to a remote location where you don’t have far to go for food and water supplies.  Develop defenses – spiked pits, anything that can get between you and them.   Set up makeshift alarms in the woods – use cowbells.    Zombies run into shit.  So that’s pretty much it!    Oh, yeah … try to figure out what caused it, because that might help you figure out how it can be stopped, at least on an individual basis.

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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 10 Interview – Armand Rosamillia – 150 Stories, 2 Podcasts and Still Going

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FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon          Website

 Facebook         Twitter

Today’s guest is Armand Rosamilia.  A New Jersey native transplanted to sunny Florida, he’s an active member of the Horror Writer’s Association, a baseball and metal music fan, and an expert on everything zombie.

Armand is the author of over one-hundred and fifty stories, running the gamut from horror and zombies, to contemporary fiction, thrillers and more.  Not one to be hung up on genre labels, Armand’s goal is to write a good story, no matter where the subject matter takes him.

When he isn’t busy writing, Armand runs two very successful podcasts on Project iRadio:

Arm Cast: Dead Sexy Horror Podcast – interviewing fellow authors as well as filmmakers, musicians, etc.

Arm N Toof’s Dead Time Podcast – with co-host Mark Tufo, the duo interview authors and filmmakers and anyone else they feel like talking to.

Zombie fans will want to check out his series, Dying Dayswhich chronicles zombie killer Darlene Bobich’s ongoing efforts to save the day from the undead.

Welcome Armand.

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Q.  I’m having a hard time getting started as an author.  I have several ideas but am never able to focus myself on just one.  I’ll work on one idea for awhile, get distracted, then before I know it, I’m onto something else and nothing ever gets done.  What advice do you have for someone in my situation?

A. Just keep writing. I have 5-7 projects going at all times so it never gets stale. I might work on one more than the others (especially if it is already paid for and I have a solid deadline) but the goal is just to keep writing and get your daily words in so it keeps growing.

Q.  Why are people so fascinated with zombies?  Is it the creatures themselves?  Is it the fantasy of living in a post-apocalyptic world with no rules?  Is it something else?

A. Zombies are just cool to me. I know you can do the entire ‘mirror to consumer society mentality’ crap if you want, but they are just interesting to write and read about for me. And we all want to shoot the neighbor in the head but can’t until they turn, right?

Q.  Do you think zombies are going to stick around in the entertainment world for awhile?  Is there another type of monster that could unseat them?

A. Everyone keeps talking about how five minutes ago zombies are, but I don’t see them ever truly going away. There will always be a small rabid fan base into zombies. I’m one of them. I’ll keep writing zombie stories until I have nothing more to say about them.

Q.  What inspired your interest in zombies and moreover, what motivated you to write about them?

A. The Rising by Brian Keene. I was always a fan of some zombie movies but his book showed me you can do something unique with the genre. It led me to write a couple of flash fiction pieces and Highway To Hell, an extreme zombie novella. That led right into Dying Days.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  Brian Keene was kind enough to grant me a Twitter interview.  Check it out!

51mUO31KscL__UY250_Q.  Regarding your protagonist, Darlene Bobich, one Amazon reviewer wrote, “she is a well-developed character who grabs a hold of you with her guts, fears, pain, uncertainty, and determination to keep going.”  There has been a lot of discussion for the need for more female roles in fiction lately.  How did you come up with the idea for Darlene and how were you able to portray her in a way that intrigued readers?

A. It started out as a flash fiction piece I wrote for an anthology. I wanted to see if I could write a zombie story. The idea was simple: a woman is faced with having to shoot her turned father with the gun he bought her. I loved the character (who is named after a real person, a friend I’ve never actually met on Facebook) and wanted to portray her realistically in future stories. She’s a regular woman. A little overweight, average looks, boring mall job, and no military training. She cries, she has panic attacks and she is just someone you can relate to.

Q.  You’re also the author of Keyport Cthulhu.  Kudos to you, sir, for I’ve always felt Cthulhu has been underrepresented in fiction.  So here’s my question.  Zombies vs. Cthulhu – who would you put your money on?

A. I will not give the odds on it, because if either side wins we all lose. Isn’t that how it works? But it would be a helluva fight to get some popcorn and sit down and watch as the world ended.

Armand and Cthulhu (fun-sized)

Armand and Fun-Sized Cthulhu

Q.  Thanks for taking the time to talk with me today.  Before I go, do you have any last minute advice that might help me survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

A. Keep your eyes open and don’t get caught in a dead-end or surrounded by these monsters. Good luck.

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 3

It was only a matter of time.

Since October 1, zombies have been trying to break through the metal gate that separates Price Town from the rest of the mall. Thus far, it has held.

We secured the front doors leading to the parking lot as well, locking them, then chaining and padlocking the handles together for extra measure. We moved as much furniture and junk as we could find to put in front of the glass doors.

In the stock room, the loading dock was impenetrable. There was a giant roll-down steel door that was shut tight.

But we forgot one thing.

The four of us were playing a rousing board game that may or may not have involved dungeons and or possibly dragons when a hideous zombie popped out of a ceiling vent.

Zombie Farmer...E I E I...ARRRRGGHHH!!!

Zombie Farmer…E I E I…ARRRRGGHHH!!!

The creature was ugly and wore a pair of overalls. I assumed he must have been a farmer in his previous life. He lunged at us and I didn’t hesitate to unload a clip in his chest, to no avail.

Bernie scored a headshot and the zombie’s brains went flying everywhere.

Four more zombies charged out of nowhere, but were instantly misted.

Alien Jones smacked his vaporizer.

“Out of power? I thought I charged this thing before we came here!”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, that’s my bad. I unhooked your vaporizer because I needed to charge my electric toothbrush.”

Alien Jones' Pocket Vaporizer

Alien Jones’ Vaporizer

Alien Jones face-palmed himself, took a seat at VGRF’s video game console and started playing Car Thief Mayhem.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I thought you didn’t like that game,” VGRF added.

“Yeah, well, you dummies have put me in a prostitute running over mood,” was the Esteemed Brainy One’s reply. “Go secure every vent in the store. I can’t do everything for you.”

“Sheesh,” I said as VGRF, Bernie and I walked away. “If he had a butt, I’d ask what crawled up it.”

“It’s the zombie apocalypse,” VGRF said. “It’s stressful. Puts a lot of pressure on everyone. You can’t expect everyone to act like their usual selves. Circumstances like these bring out the worst in people…and aliens.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “People are the same no matter what situation you put them in. Right Bernie? Bernie?”

Bernie was busy, smearing his face with war marks, using dark eyeshadow he nabbed from the make-up

Bernie's losing it...more so than usual...or than he ever did in the late 90's.

Bernie’s losing it…more so than usual…or than he ever did in the late 90’s.

aisle.

“Look out for Charlie. He’s everywhere. And its either us or them.”

He took a kitchen knife he pinched from housewares and walked up to the carcass of the farmer zombie. There wasn’t much head left, but there was just enough there to hold an ear.

Bernie cut it off and showed it to us.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making a necklace,” Bernie said. “As a warning to the other zombies.”

I leaned in and whispered into VGRF’s ear (luckily still intact) and said, “You might be right.”

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 1 (Part 2)

“Oranges!  Get your oranges here!”

Oh great.  Bernie was taking advantage of the spectacle to sell his fruit.

Bernie

Bernie “MC Plotz” Plotznick, one half of the defunct rap duo, “The Funky Hunks.”

It’s not easy getting a brief taste of fame at a young age only to spend the rest of your life in the entertainment industry’s shadow.

I managed to move on from my Funky Hunk days by becoming the owner/proprietor of a book blog with 3.5 readers.  Bernie, on the other hand, was still stuck in the past, refusing to do anything with his life because he was certain a Funky Hunk resurgence was just around the corner.

In the meantime, he eeked out a meager existence by buying oranges from the supermarket and reselling them to people who felt sorry for him.

“Full of citrusy goodness and your daily requirement of vitamin c, folks!”

“Don’t make eye contact,”  I said to VGRF.

“What?”

Too late.

“BQB!”

Bernie gave me a big hug.

“What up dawg?”

“Hey Bernie.”

“How you been, man?  I hear you’re taking the Internet by storm now?”

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but I do run a WordPress blog with 3.5 readers.  How are you?”

“Me?”  Bernie asked.  “I’m hella tight, son.  Hella tight.  Been kickin’ some sick rhymes.”

“Good for you.”

“Yo, you gotta check this one out.”

“No,”  I said.  “It’s ok.  Maybe later.”

Bernie launched straight into a non-threatening Funky Hunks style rap:

Yo.  Yo yo.  2015.  Funky Hunks back on the scene.

Check it.

Homework!  It’s what you gotta do!

To gain lots of knowledge.

Make your parents happy too.

Everyone started staring at Bernie and not in a good way.

After you’re done,

Practice those ABC’s.

It’s all about killin’ the SAT’s!

“That’s great, Bern,”  I said.  “Really great.”

He kept going.

Algebra!  It seems really tough!

But it totally isn’t when you practice that stuff!”

“BERN!  I got it.”

“That’s the shit, right?  Is that the shit or is that the shit?”

“Oh, it’s shit alright.”

There was a sore spot between Bernie and I.  Back in the day, our manager thought we should rap about sex, drugs and violence like all the other rappers were doing.  I was willing to do it for the money but Bernie refused to rap about anything non-wholesome.

Sometimes I’m mad at him for costing me a ton of cash.  Other times I’m glad he saved my soul because sex, drugs and money isn’t what I’m all about.  Well, the drugs and violence parts anyway.  The sex part?  As a big time nerd, life decided that’s not what I’m about for me.

“We need to get together and lay down a track,”  Bernie said.

“I’ll get back to you on that.  I’ve been busy.”

Bernie spied VGRF.

Video Game Rack Fighter, BQB's Main Squeeze

Video Game Rack Fighter, BQB’s Better Half

“Yeah, I see you’ve been gettin’ busy.  BQB I heard you was knockin’ boots with a fine ass she-nerd honey but DAYUM!”

VGRF looked at me as if to say, “What do I do?”

“He’s attempting to compliment you,”  I said.

“Oh.  Thank you?”

“No doubt,”  Bernie said.  “Say BQB, I ‘aint tryin’ seperate you from your duckets or nothin.'”

Here it comes.

“I worry about you man.  You need your strength.  You want an orange?”

“How much?”

“Five Washingtons.”

“Are you serious?”

“MC Plotz don’t play, sucka.”

I handed over a fiver and received an orange.  God, I felt sorry for that guy.

Some boring elevator music played over the speakers and an old man wearing a tweed jacket and a bowtie trudged up onto the stage and rested on his cane.

It was Mayor Philbert T. Bramble.  He’d been the leader of East Randomtown for as long as I could remember, not due to his political prowess, but because no one else wanted the job.  He’d been running unopposed forever.

The Right Honorable Philbert T. Bramble, Mayor of East Randomtown

The Right Honorable Philbert T. Bramble, Mayor of East Randomtown

“Good afternoon, East Randomtown!”  the Mayor said.  “What a lovely audience and…”

Mayor Bramble looked directly at me.

“Is that Bookshelf Q. Battler?”

I tried to hide behind VGRF and Bernie.  Alien Jones was busy checking messages on his phone.  It was a suped up, hyper charged alien phone, much more awesome than our Earth phones.

“Friends,”  Mayor Bramble said.  “In 1985, East Randomtown resident Doug Hauser got himself a thirty-second spot as a dope pusher on Miami Vice. As I watched that young man get the tar beaten out of him by Don Johnson, I thought to myself, ‘Never again will East Randomtown experience such greatness!'”

Sigh.  It was true.  I was a virtual unknown to the rest of the world, but in my hometown, I was known as “The Man Who Ousted the Miami Vice Extra.

It was a dubious honor.

The crowd cheered.  “BQB!  BQB!  BQB!”

The Mayor continued.

“But then BQB came along and brought glory to our little burg by starting a blog that attracted the attention of not one…not two…not even three…but THREE POINT FIVE READERS!”

Throughout the crowd there were utterances of “Wow” and “Oh my God!” and so on.

“Come on up here, BQB!”

“Uh,”  I mumbled from the crowd.  “I’d really rather not.  It’s Dr. Hugo’s big day and all..”

VGRF nudged me.  “Go ahead.”

“Really?”

“Yes.  You’ve earned it.”

What a supportive girlfriend.  Most women would have demanded that I quit my bloggery by now but VGRF had always been there for me.

I headed for the stage.

“Bring your family with you!”  Mayor Bramble said.

VGRF and Alien Jones, still incognito as my “son,” tagged along.  Bernie invited himself.

As soon as I was on stage, the crowd went nuts.  A forty-something lady threw her blue denim stretch pants at me.  They smacked me right in the face.  It was awkward.

“3.5 readers,”  Mayor Bramble said.  “How do you do it, son?  What’s your secret?”

The Mayor pointed the microphone at me.

“I’m just lucky I guess.”

He put his arm around me.

“Don’t be so modest, my boy.  These stories you tell about a magic bookshelf, a space alien, and a 1950’s private detective and so on, you have quite an imagination to dream all that up.”

“Oh yeah,”  I said.  “None of that is real.”

Or is it?

“BQB, I’m so glad you came because this gives me the chance to announce a piece of important news.  Just yesterday, I signed papers ordering the East Randomtown Maintenance Department to knock down the statue of Doug Hauser in East Randomtown Park and replace it with a sculpture of your likeness!”

The crowd clapped.  One guy yelled, “Doug Hauser sucks!”

“Oh no,”  I said.  “Please don’t do that, sir.  I don’t want to step on Doug’s accomplishment.”

“Stop being so modest, my boy,” the Mayor said.  “Hauser is an old has-been.  You are this town’s future.”

Yeesh.  I felt sorry for the town then.

Attorney Donnelly notes that any reference to renowned thespian Don Johnson and/or the quality television program Miami Vice are purely fictional and for parody purposes only.  Crockett and Tubbs 4-eva.

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#31ZombieAuthors – The Lineup – October 11-20

It’s a cornucopia of zombie fiction all stars here on the Bookshelf Battle Blog in October.

Here’s who will take BQB’s space phone call Oct 11-20.

Links will take you to authors’ Amazon pages.

DAY 11 – Rachel Aukes 

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Rachel has introduced a new generation of literary nerds to a classic by zombie-fying Dante’s Inferno (as well as Alighieri’s other works) in her Deadland Saga.  Coincidentally, I end up feeling like I’m stuck in hell when I’m trapped in a small room with Blandie, my perpetually angry ex-girlfriend amidst the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse.  Luckily, this USA Today bestselling author will offer me some words of wisdom.

DAY 12 – Joe McKinney

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The man.  The myth.  The legend.  One of the biggest names in the zombie fiction game will humble this book nerd with an interview October 12.  Joe got in on the ground floor of the mid-2000’s zombie renaissance with Dead City, the first book in his highly popular Dead World series, and has been going on stronger than a zombie who just caught a brain whiff ever since.  (Watch out, Joe, those dudes behind you look a tad peckish.)

Joe’s a longtime Texas police officer, a dad, and yet somehow amidst these important commitments, he managed to win the Horror Writer Association’s Bram Stoker Award.  Meanwhile, one time I tried to write a novel, got distracted, and ended up watching a Steven Seagal action movie marathon instead.

Needless to say, I bet Joe will be able to dispense a pep talk that will inspire me to get my act together.

DAY 13 – Michael Cairns

Michael Cairns headshot High Res copy

This year, Michael’s a man on a mission.  The Thirteen Roses author began 2015 with a challenge to publish 15 books (including works he’s written previously.)  He’s been keeping a daily video log of his progress and will talk to yours truly about how its going.  Also, we’ll trade follicle stimulation tips.  However, note that I’m not asking for me but for a friend.

DAY 14 – Kate L. Mary 

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A busy mother of four and U.S. Air Force wife, Kate will tell my 3.5 readers all about her Broken World books. Her claim that she prefers “nerds over hunks” intrigues me, causing me to grill her over this claim extensively.  Here’s hoping this interview is the victory over hunks that nerds have long waited for.

DAY 15 – Peter Meredith

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As my 3.5 readers are aware, I was once so wrapped up in finding the meaning of life, that I actually went on an epic adventure to find it.  Thus, I can relate to Peter Meredith, who worked in real estate, as an emergency room nurse, and finally as a lighting company CEO before embracing his true passion, writing.  The Apocalypse Crusade author will advise us on finding the calling that brings joy to your life.

DAY 16 – Saul Tanpepper

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Zombies. Video games.  Sure, we all love hits like Resident Evil and Dead Rising, but Saul “upped his game” by combing zombies and video games in his Gameland series, in which players actually control the undead and a group of hackers get trapped in the middle of the mayhem.  Seen above in Peanuts form, Saul will also give me the 411 on how to improve my book blog.

Yeah, I know 3.5 readers, I should probably start by reviewing a book once in awhile.

DAY 17 – Jeremy Laszlo

jl

Jeremy Lazlo once attempted the traditional publishing approach, but when a publishing industry intern accidentally hit the “reply all” button and Jeremy received a snarky email in which said intern was joking about how he’d just batch rejected 600 authors, the fruitful self-publishing career of the Left Alive author was born.  This marine will give me the lowdown on how to balance writing with everything else that happens in life (motivation that I sorely need) and will answer that age old question – Orcs vs. zombies?  Who wins?

DAY 18 – Deirdre Gould 

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 Most zombie apocalypse stories feature characters in a never ending battle for survival.  Deirdre, on the other hand, asks us to consider what would happen After the Cure.  In her series, a cure for a zombie-fying virus has been found.  The Infected have returned back to humans again, but now have to live with the grim realization of what they’ve done.

Personally, I feel bad when I eat too many peanut M and M’s so I have to assume I’d be pretty down in the dumps if I were to ever eat a human.

DAY 19 – Eric A. Shelman

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We’re all aspiring writers around here, aren’t we, 3.5 readers?  Thus, we can learn a lot from Eric Shelman.

In 1999, after co-authoring and publishing a non-fiction book about Mary Ellen Wilson, the first case of a child rescued from abuse in in 1874, Eric turned his attention toward fiction.  He wrote about a serial killer, then shelved it.  Then he wrote about witches, and shelved that attempt too.

In 2011, he was inspired by seeing a number of zombie fiction writers gain popularity on Facebook, so much so that he gave it another go and has been successfully publishing the Dead Hunger series ever since.

It’s never too late to try again, 3.5 readers.

Also, is it me or does he look like an awesome dude in that cowboy hat?  Kind of has a Raylynn Givens from Justified vibe going.

DAY 20 – Rachel Higginson

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I have a bad habit of being one of those “glass half empty kind of guys,” especially when it comes to love.  It’s hard enough to find that special someone in civilized times that I’m skeptical as to whether or not romance can bloom amidst zombie mayhem.  The author of Love and Decay will set me straight and explain how she’s applied a serialized television style format to her writing that has led to success.

It all starts Oct. 1, right here on bookshelfbattle.com!

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Pop Culture Mystery Revamp?

I don’t think I will do this but I want to get the 3.5’s advice first.
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Suppose I:

  • Remove Bookshelf Q. Battler
  • Remove the Pop Culture Questions
  • Rewrite it as a series about a 1950’s detective who fell asleep, woke up in modern times, and an elegant lady lawyer acts as a go between, bring a new case to Jake every episode on behalf of a mysterious benefactor.  Maybe a rich man who wants justice done or something.  I don’t know.  It’d be some person more realistic than Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Why I Thought About It:

  • We’re reaching a point where Jake barely talks about BQB’s question.  It just usually descends into “Oh, that question reminds me of the time when…”
  • Example.  BQB asks Jake “How did Gilligan get washed up on the island?”  Jake’s response would be, “Ahh that reminds me of the time when I was shipwrecked with a band of pirates, goes on about a shipwreck related mystery, and then briefly at the end also answers how Gilligan got lost.”
  • Will the public at large get “Bookshelf Q. Battler?”

Why I’m Leaning Towards Not Doing It

  • To remove the pop culture is to remove the title, and “Pop Culture Mysteries” is such a catchy title. Sad to say, but often it’s all about the title.
  • I feel like at some point the issue can be addressed with something like:

DELILAH:  Mr. Hatcher, Mr. Battler has become very disappointed with your reports.  He asks you a simple question and all you do is drone on and on about your adventures instead.  Could you perhaps reign it in?

JAKE:  What?  And deny the 3.5 my stories?

I don’t know.  Let me know what you think.

As I’ve said before, I started writing this in April and September is around the corner.  It’s the longest I’ve kept going on a project and mainly because when it’s just a guy sharing his memories, it’s kind of impossible to “write myself into a wall” the way I’ve done with other ideas.

Any feedback you can provide on these stories (good, bad or otherwise) is welcome.  My goal is to finish the series of posts by the end of the year, edit and rewrite them, starting posting them daily on a Pop Culture Mysteries spinoff blog next year and then work on and release a Jake novel next year.

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Pop Culture Mysteries: Case File #005 – Smeller vs. Denier – (Part 12)

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AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

“Signor Hatcher,”  Bellavenuti said.  “I must protest the way you are treating us like criminals.  Your concern over your check is unfounded, no?”

“How do you figure, Signora?”

“Because all you need do is call the casino first thing in the morning and request they cancel the missing check and issue you a new one!”

“I could do that,”  I said.  “But suppose the crook beats me to the punch, cashes it, and runs away never shutterstock_239019796to be found again?  What then?  I fight some cockamamie international legal battle from my home in the states for the rest of my life?  Not a chance…especially…”

“Especially, what?”  Signora Bellavenuti said through her luscious lips.

“…when YOU DID IT!”

“BASTARDO!”  Signora Bellavenuti shouted as she stood up and slapped me across the face.

“Admit it!”  I said.  “Long before you started your own designer label, ‘Haus of Bellavenuti,’ you were a gorgeous fashion model who walked the runway with poise, precision, and grace.  Why, I bet you could put a book on your head and walk from here to Romania without it falling off once!”

“What are your implying?”

“Implying?  I’m saying!  You’re no klutz, Signora, and when you spilled that wine all over the best jacket I own, you did it so you could slip your nimble fingers into my pocket and grab my loot!”

“Best jacket?!  Patooie!  I spit on your best jacket!  If that is your best jacket then you are no better than the beggar who pleads for the scraps that I throw away!”

With that, the Signora removed her stole, unzipped the back of her dress, and allowed it to fall to the ground.

There she stood in a black bra and panties.

“Oggle all you wish, pervert!  I do not need your money, you fool! I can buy and sell a horde of you!”

I gave her voluptuous form the old once over with my peepers.  I didn’t want to but I had no choice.  I was a detective.  I had to do what I had to do.

“My apologies, Signora,”  I said.  “I can now rule you out as well.”

“I should rule out your face!”

Professor Fremont’s head was pointed at me, but his lazy eye was aimed at the Signora’s form.  The ex-model wacked him upside the head.

“Stop gawking at me you deviant!”

“I can’t help it!”

“Can’t you, Professor?”  I asked.

“I really can’t,”  Professor said.  “My eye is permanently stuck toward the right.”

“And yet, you made sure you positioned yourself in a seat that allowed that eye to point at the Signora all evening.  You’re attracted to her aren’t you?”

“She’s quite fetching.”

“You’re madly in love with her!  You’ve been following her around all night, trying to impress her with superficial philosophical observations completely devoid of any real meaning.”

“He has!”  the Signora said.

“What we do and why we do it are two separate agendas,”  the Professor said.  “When it comes to a man’s motivations, the Id, Ego, and Superego all come into play.”

“Did you stink her out?”

“Excuse me?”

“The Signora!”  I said.  “She spurned your advances one too many times so you got your revenge by letting one rip in her general vicinity, didn’t you?  DIDN’T YOU?”

“I most certainly did not,”  the Professor said.  “Detective Hatcher, while tales of your investigatory prowess precede you, you have embarrassed yourself with this line of questioning.”

“How so?”

“Did you forget the part where I passed out?”

He got me.

“I’m afraid I did.”

“It’s an incontrovertible scientific fact that a man cannot be offended by his own expungements,”  the Professor said as if I were one of his students.

“That’s true,”  Yakubovich said.  “Some men even sit around and sniff their own stink as a reminder of their personal machismo.”

Everyone glared at Yakubovich.  He sunk down in his chair.

“So I have heard.”

“My body found the air to be so foul that it shut my entire system down to prevent me from breathing it in any further, thus saving my life,”  Fremont argued.

“Maybe you were faking,”  I said.

The Countess intervened on the Professor’s behalf.

“He wasn’t,”  my host said.  “I held the smelling salts under the Professor’s nose for quite some time.  I checked his pulse and it grew so slight I feared I would have to call for the undertaker.”

“You see?”  the Professor said.  “You can no sooner accuse me of being the olfactory offender than you could purport that Sir Isaac Newton caused his infamous apple to fall on his own head.”

I extended my hand.  The Professor shook it.

“You’re off the hook, nerd.”

“Of course I am,”  Fremont said.  “And while I have the floor, I must object to your investigatory methods.   You’ve engaged in plenty of speculation and conjecture, but only a scientific approach can draw the delinquent out into the open.”

“You’re right,”  I said.  “I’ve been in remiss.”

“Hatcher,”  the Count said.  “Perhaps you should analyze the diplomats’ motivations?”

“He who sniffed it, biffed it!”  Sir Rupert said.

“He who thwarted it, borted it!”

“Borted it?”  Rupert said.  “Bort isn’t even a word!”

“Oh, and biff is?”

“I could do that, Fabes,”  I said.  “But each man would simply accuse the other of cutting one as a precursor to global annihilation.  I’d get nowhere.  No, Professor Fremont is absolutely right.  If this case is to be put to bed, I must conduct a more thorough, rational inquiry.”

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.

All Rights Reserved.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 24 – Sally

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AND NOW BOOKSHELF Q. BATTLER AND THE MEANING OF LIFE CONTINUES…

“ARRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!”

Vicky and I screamed and screamed as we sat in Happly’s ejector seat, watching the island below grow closer and closer.

“SEE WHAT I MEAN ABOUT TRUSTING PEOPLE?!!” I yelled.

I hate it when I ask my phone about parachutes and it returns a search on panda food.

I hate it when I ask my phone about parachutes and it returns a search on panda food.

Vicky fumbled her hands all over the seat in a desperate search for something, anything that could be used to save the day.

“HOW DO WE GET THE PARACHUTE TO OPEN?!” Vicky asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!”

“WELL,” Vicky yelled back at me. “STOP COMPLAINING AND DO SOMETHING ALREADY!”

I whipped out my generic off brand cell phone. This was a job for Sally, my automated personal assistant.

“Sally!”  I shouted.

My phone beeped.

“Hello Eduardo,” Sally replied in her pleasant monotone robot voice.

“How do you open up the parachute on an ejector seat?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I do not understand Eduardo…”

“EJECTOR SEAT!” I shouted. “HOW DO YOU OPEN THE PARACHUTE?!”

“I have found three restaurants that serve bamboo chutes,” Sally said. “Do you want their addresses?”

“NO!” I yelled. “TELL ME HOW TO OPEN THE PARACHUTE ON AN EJECTOR SEAT!”

Vicky kept searching.

“Eduardo,” Sally said. “I do not understand, ‘Tell me how to open the parachute on an ejector seat!’ Would you like me to perform a web search on it?”

“YES!!!!!”

“I do not understand when the next installment of BQB and the Meaning of Life will be?  Would you like me to perform a web search of tomorrow?

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Cell phone image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 23 – I Object

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“Y’all better fasten your seat belts!” Happly yelled. “We’re almost to the drop point!”

Vicky fastened hers. Seeing I was in shock, she fastened mine around me. We were sitting together on one big bench in the middle of the plane.

“Listen!” I yelled. “There’s been a misunderstanding here!”

Kip Happly Enterprises.  We'll get you there...sort of.

Kip Happly Enterprises. We’ll get you there…sort of.

“No, son!” Happly shouted back. “Like I said, there’s no landing!”

“Just take us back!” I screamed. “I’m not going to jump out of an airplane!”

“Oh Ed,” Vicky said as she patted my knee. “Stop being such a worry wart. Everything’s going to work out fine. It’ll be fun!”

“Get ready!” Happly shouted.

I looked out the window. We were over the island.

“Alright folks!” Happly yelled. “Time for us to part ways! Thank you for flying with Kip Happly Enterprises…”

“No!” I yelled. “Don’t!!! I OBJECT!”

“WHAT?” Happly asked.

“I OBJECT!”

“EJECT?!” Happly asked. “You got it, friend! ADIOS!”

Unbeknownst to us, Vicky and I had been sitting on top of a pair of cargo bay doors the entire time. Happly punched a button, the doors opened up, and my new friend and I found ourselves strapped to a bench, hurtling through the air at warp speed, screaming our heads off.

And then Bookshelf Q. Battler and Vicky died.  That’s it.  That’s how the story ends, with the main characters stone cold dead.  Hope you enjoyed reading.

Oh wait, actually they’re still alive…find out what happens next time on BQB and the Meaning of Life.

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Pilot photo courtesy of a shutterstock.com image.

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BQB and the Meaning of Life – Part 20 – Welcome to the Third World

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“Welcome to the Third World International Airport,”  the announcer said.  “We’d tell you what country you are in, but we don’t want to offend the 3.5 people reading this story.”

Inside the airport, Vicky and I walked through the hustle and bustle.

A boy ran up to me with a bundle of roses and yanked on my shirt tail.

“Mr. American sir!” the boy said. “Buy some flowers for your pretty wife!”

I looked at Vicky. She giggled. I grinned.

“She’s not my uh…OK kid. How much?”

“Five hundred US Dollars,” the boy said.

“Get outta’ here!”

“OK,” the boy said. “You drive a hard bargain. Five US dollars!”

“One US dollar!” I said.

“What?” the boy asked. “Your wife isn’t worth five dollars?”

A notorious skinfelt, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies.   He really did.  Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

A notorious skinflint, Bookshelf Q. Battler (BQB) was so smitten with Video Game Rack Fighter (VGRF) that he shelled out five, count em, five big ones for some posies. He really did. Moths flew out of his wallet and everything.

Damn it. Trapped by a little street vendor’s logic. I pulled a fiver out of my wallet and handed it to him. He gave the rose to Vicky.

“Why thank you, Ed,” Vicky said. “I’m flattered.”

We found a table and sat down.

“So,” Vicky said. “I told you I’m going to visit the Great Guru so I can ask him about the meaning of life. You never told me why you’re going to Pango-Tango.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, funny you mention it, I’m also trying to visit the Great Guru.”

Vicky’s beautiful eyes blossomed.

“You are?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Do you want to know the meaning of life too?” she asked.

I didn’t want to lie. But I didn’t want another Blandie on my hands either.

“My company,” I said. “Beige Corp. They sent me to uh…make a sales call. Yeah. That’s it. The Great Guru wants to by some beige products and accessories for his sanctuary.”

“Wow,” Vicky said. “Beige?”

“Yeah.”

“The Guru must have really boring taste.”

“Yeah.”

Vicky scratched her head.

“You know,” she said. “This might sound dumb, but I have no idea what to do now.”

“Me neither,” I said. “I just bought a ticket to “Somewhere in the Third World” because that’s the closest the airlines will take you to Pango-Tango.”

“Me too!” Vicky said. “Oh good! At least we’re both flying by the seat of our pants!”

“I was hoping there’d be a boat or a connecting flight or something once I

Seems trustworthy,

Seems trustworthy,

got here,” I said.

I felt a tapping on my shoulder. I turned around to find a goofy looking man wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. His eyes were covered by a pair of goggles.

“Did I hear you and your wife say you want to get to Pango-Tango?”

Will BQB and VGRF ever make it to Pango Tango?  And do they really want to trust this wacko?  More BQB and the meaning of life to come!

Copyright (C) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Nerds with flowers and wacky pilot images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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