By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire
Bleh!
It’s true.
Vampires despise cats.
You wouldn’t think so because we both sleep all day, we’re both exceptionally cranky, and we both have fangs but no, those furry little jerk faces get hair all over our coffins and puke hairballs all over the floor.
Quickest way to get rid of a vampire? Whip out your cat.
Have you ever defeated a vampire with a cat? Discuss in the comments.
OK 3.5 readers.
If writing was your one and only job, you get up, write all day, then stop at the end of the day (say you were putting in an 8 hour day) – how many books do you think you could get out a year?
I just feel like I’m bouncing off of a wall. I’d really like this to be my career but it takes so long. Here I am, almost another year down and still no published book.
I work. I come home. I’m tired. My weekends end up filled with all of the life sustaining stuff, it is so slow going.
I’m an overachiever. I’m not happy with the “oh well I just like to write for the sake of writing.”
I’ve heard all kinds of theories about this and I realize it also depends on the substance.
If you’re writing a critically acclaimed prize winner, that’s different than say, a mad cap zombie romp. Both are loved by their fan bases, but both are different.
How many books a year could you put out if it were to become all you do?
I also realize I need to stop starting and stopping.
I finished a first draft of How the West Was Zombed and the felt like an achievement…but I feel like it does need a major rewrite.
Then I wrote the beginning of Undead Man’s Hand and I felt that was tighter – the characters, the timeline, the town, there wasn’t a lot of room for me to wiggle around and make it go off in all kinds of directions like I did in Zombed.
Undead was going to be a part prequel/part sequel to Zombed. Now that I have had a few months to think about it, I think Undead will become the first book and Zombed will be the second.
Then I dabbled in Illiad Rebooted for a few weeks. Have to be honest, I enjoyed it. I laughed a lot. A lot of the sex and language bothered me. I guess at this point I’m still a civilian and the one thing new writers worry about is will writing something off the wall make people think less of me?
If it takes off, great. If like 100 people read it and they’re like wow whoever wrote this must be a weirdo well…at any rate, I’d like to finish it but I’m not sure I want it to be my first novel.
So now I’m on Zomcation which is basically – Zombies+Vacation = Zomcation. A discharged war hero ends up going on a vacation to an amusement park (Wombat World) with his divorcing sister and kids.
Somehow they meet up with an actress who once played a princess but was demoted to donning a wombat mascot costume when she turned 30, and a bumbling Wombat World security guard who fancies himself an action movie cop and gets irate at the most trivial park rule offenses (i.e. gum chewing.)
And then somehow they end up fighting zombies. I’m still working on the details.
The plot is not complicated. It is in modern times so I don’t have to constantly look up how a past character would have acted. I’ve done 31,000 in a couple of weeks so I think I could get it done by the end of the year and then I would love to turn my attention to getting the first two Zombed books out and done.
I must start working on a project from beginning to end though. Draft. Rewrite. Edit. Format. Publish. No more skipping to other ideas till its done.
Its frustrating. I have more ideas than time but I hope I will eventually get to them all.
Feel free to dispense advice, 3.5 readers.
With Your Host: Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian
Sex and zombies. Zombies and sex.
Not together, of course. That’d just be plain disgusting, even for me, and I’m a zombie.
Gillian Zane, who provides steamy scenes in her NOLA Zombie series, gave BQB some alpha male lessons.
SPOILER ALERT: They don’t take.
By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire
Bleh.
I just watched the new Ghostbusters reboot on demand. Bleh, that’s money I’ll never get back.
It doesn’t really hold up. I mean, bleh, the first time it was ok but now that I see it again and can analyze it a bit it is just all cheap jokes crowbarred in there.
Show a vampire a bad reboot and he or she will hiss and run away. Vampires are known for their good taste.
Which bad movie reboot makes you want to hiss and run away?
Discuss in the comments, bleh.
With Your Host: Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian
How do you know that you’ve made it as an author?
When you’re touring the late night talk show circuit?
When your book sells a million copies?
Nah. When you’ve got your own action figure.
Last year, S.G. Lee gave BQB some advice from his Journal of the Undead.
By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire
Bleh!
We vampires like to pretend that we’re indestructible but no one can defeat a shark.
Sharks can easily chomp through a vampire.
Humans and/or vampires alike should avoid sharks.
That’s about it. I’m really phoning it in today…because I’m an asshat. Don’t judge me.
With Your Host: Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian
It’s too bad the Americans and the Brits split up.
Sure we’ve got our differences.
They love tea. We love soda. They love crumpets. We love donuts.
But we both love zombies…or at least love to read about them.
Last year, BQB dialed up across the pond and talked to Perrin about his love of everything zombified.
Check out that interview here.
And don’t forget to check out Perrin’s latest:
Skip: An Epic Science Fiction Fantasy Adventure Series (now available on Amazon.)
By: Count Krakovich, Asshat Vampire
Bleh!
Trump, Hillary. Hillary, Trump.
But I’m the bloodsucker?
Makes sense, bleh.
Yes, vampires hate politics – not so much government but people who make dumb arguments on both sides and them post them all over your Facebook wall long after you’ve told them you don’t care what they think, bleh.
The quickest way to get a vampire to turn tail is to offer your dumb opinions. We prefer to keep it light and loosey goosey. If you can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t share your political viewpoints then you’re a bigger weirdo than I am.
Have you ever caused a vampire to roll his eyes with your political discourse?
Discuss in the comments.
The Wombat Garden was an enormous, state-of-the-art concert arena that seated roughly forty-thousand people in plush, comfortable chairs, most of which were full by the time Paige wandered in.
In a frenzied panic, the teenager walked up and down one aisle after another, searching for a free seat to no avail until someone shouted, “Hey!”
Paige turned her head. A freckled faced girl about the same age as Paige lifted a jacket off of the chair next to her and pointed to it.
It was right on the edge of a row so luckily, Paige didn’t even have to scooch past a bunch of people to reach it. She sat down right away.
“Thank you,” Paige said.
“No problem,” the girl replied as she shook Paige’s hand. “I’m Laura.”
“Paige.”
The teens looked around for a bit. The excitement in the room was palpable. Thousands of hormonal girls wearing Boyz a’Plenty shirts, holding up posters with their favorite boy on them, chatting away to each other incessantly.
“I’m sorry,” Paige said. “Were you saving this seat for someone?”
“In a way,” Laura said.
“Friend that couldn’t make it?” Paige asked.
Laura stared off into space and flashed a wry smile. “In a way,” she repeated.
“OK then,” Paige said as she leaned back. “Hashtag cryptic.”
Laura giggled. “My twin sister.”
“OMG,” Paige said. “Did she get lost or something?”
“She died,” Laura said.
Paige frowned. “OMG.”
“Oh its ok,” Laura said as she flipped through her official souvenir Boyz a’Plenty concert program. “Well, no, it’ll never be ok but it’s about as ok as it will ever be. We always went everywhere together. Movies, shows, concerts and she was always late, so I got in the habit of saving a seat for her.”
Laura’s eyes welled up.
“I’m sorry,” Laura said.
“It’s ok,” Paige replied.
“Its just that, she lost her battle with cancer two years ago,” Paige said. “And here I am, still putting my jacket on a seat like a big dummy hoping she’ll just walk right in and sit down.”
Now Paige was crying. “That’s not dumb. That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
“It is?” Laura asked.
“Hashtag love is forever,” Paige said.
“Hashtag love really is forever isn’t it?” Laura asked.
The girls traded a hug then Paige held up her tablet.
“Do you mind if I commemorate this moment with a selfie?” Paige asked.
“Commemorate away,” Laura answered.
The girls immediately pursed their lips into duck bills as Paige snapped.
“Hashtag bravest person I’ve ever met,” Paige said as she typed. “And posted!”
“So who’s your favorite?” Laura asked.
“OMG,” Paige said. “Hashtag a question for the ages. Let’s see. A.J. is dreamy but B.J. seems kind of damaged yet not so much that the love of a good woman couldn’t fix him, you know?”
“I totally know,” Laura said. “Sometimes I like to pretend that woman is me.”
“Me too,” Paige said.
“C.J. is the bad boy for sure,” Laura said.
“He is,” Paige said. “But you know, Davey just seems really sweet and down to earth so I’d have to go with him.”
“Everyone loves Davey,” Laura said.
“Hashtag so true,” Paige said.
The lights dimmed and thousands of girls instantly screamed in glee.
“Hello girls,” an announcer said.
More happy screams.
“Are you ready for the boys?” the announcer asked.
Joyous screams.
The lights flickered across the arena in a strobe effect. A hole opened in the stage and out of it, a platform immersed in fog slowly rose up.
“Coming to you from the Wombat Garden in fabulous Wombat World,” the announcer continued. “You’ve heard their hit singles ‘What Up, Girl?’ and ‘Don’t Be Sad, Girl.’”
The fog dissipated as the platform locked into the rest of the stage. Four shadowy boyish silhouettes were now visible.
Paige and Laura, like every other girl in the crowd, were on their feet, screaming like maniacs and bouncing up and down.
Choice words shouted from the audience included, “I love you, A.J!” and “Davey, I want to have ten thousand of your babies!”
“OMG,” Paige said. “Hashtag I’m gonna pass out!”
“I know,” Laura said. “Me too.”
Paige hit the record button on her tablet, pointed it at the stage and started a live stream.
“Here to perform their latest smash hit ‘Girl, Won’t You Be My Girl?’ its A.J., B.J., C.J. and Davey aka…Boyz a’Plenty!”
The spotlight hit the boys. They turned around, smiled and waved and every girl in attendance impersonated a mental patient that had just escaped from an insane asylum.
“OMG,” Paige said as she squinted at the stage. “Davey has peach fuzz on his chin!”
Laura squinted. “He does!”
The boys wore flesh colored headsets that amplified their voices.
“Hey girls,” A.J. said.
That was met with a resounding, “Woooooo!”
B.J. strutted right up to the edge of the stage. “You ready to make some noise, Wombat World?”
Oh they were. And oh they did.
“Wooooooo!”
“Come on,” C.J. said. “You can do better than that!”
The girls belted out an even louder, “Wooooooo!”
“Hey fellas,” Davey said. “I love Wombat World, don’t you?”
“We sure do,” A.J. said. “And not just because we’re contractually obligated to as we’re signed with the music division of Carruthers Brothers Amalgamated Studios.”
“I love the rides,” B.J. said.
“I love the cotton candy,” C.J. said.
“That’s all great,” Davey said. “But you know what would would make a day like today even more special?”
“What’s that, Davey?” A.J. asked.
“If one of these girls…”
The girls lost it. Ear drums were shattered as they screeched at a dog whistle pitch and lobbed various undergarments at the boys.
Davey grinned and looked out at the crowd. “…would be my girl.”
More hysterics until the announcer took over.
“Attention girls. If you are sitting in seat 47A, congratulations! Head up on stage so your fun filled day with Boyz a’Plenty can begin!”
Every girl in the joint frantically checked her seat. Paige’s heart pounded as she stared at the number printed on the back of her chair – 47A.
“OMG,” Paige said.
Laura smiled.
“What do I do?” Paige asked.
“What do you mean, ‘what do you do?’” Laura asked. “Get up there!”
Paige looked up at the boys on stage, then around at the auditorium filled with insane girls, then at Laura.
“No,” Paige said. “This is your sister’s seat. It should be you.”
Laura grabbed Paige’s hand. “Don’t even worry…”
Before Laura could finish her sentence, Paige was shouting, “OMG thank you Laura, I’ll never forget you!” as she beat feet towards the stage.
“…about it.”
Laura folded her arms in disgust. “Shit,” she said to a Paige who was no longer there. “You were supposed to call my bluff so could be all like, ‘Well, if you insist’ but just run your stupid, inconsiderate ass right up there.”
The lights went dark. A few minutes later, the spotlight hit the stage again and Paige was sitting in a chair, flipping out and live streaming away on her tablet as the boys surrounded her.
“Hey girls,” A.J. said to the audience.
“We’ve got a very special guest with us,” B.J. said.
“Her name is Paige,” C.J. said.
Davey walked over to Paige and got down on one knee. Tears of epic elation streamed down Paige’s cheeks.
“Paige, I’ve just got one question for you…”
The boy band member with the peach fuzz on his chin took Paige’s hand into his, looked her in the eyes and asked, “Girl…will you be my girl?”
Paige looked as though her head was about to physically explode.
Background music filled the speakers. It was a hip, funky beat.
The boys broke out into elaborate dance moves as they sang in unison, “Girl, won’t you be my, be my girl…”
All the girls in the arena cheered.
“…won’t you be my whole wide world? Oh girl, won’t you be my, be my girl?”
A fuming mad Laura remained seated. “What a bitch.”
With Your Host: Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian
I don’t know why people are always complaining about being handed lemons.
Sure, they’re sour but after you pucker your lips for a minute they’re delicious. Squeeze the juice right into a nice glass of water and you’ve got a good thirst quencher.
You know what the worst kind of food to be given is? Brains. Those things are disgusting.
Believe me, hot sauce does nothing to mask the brainy flavor. If you’ve never eaten a brain, then don’t complain to me about lemons. I wish that zombies were addicted to lemons instead of brains.
Anyway, at this time last year, Bookshelf Q. Battler called up Ann Christy on his space phone to discuss how to make the best of a bad situation, editing your work and of course, zombies.
Bookshelf Battle 