Tag Archives: writers

Jul 17 2016
4 Comments
Zombie Western

Undead Man’s Hand – Chapter 10

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Night fell and the Bullocks were lying under the stars, which was ironic, since they were inside their house. There was a hole in the roof large enough for a person to crawl through.

Maggie was sound asleep. She was an accomplished fidgeter. Every few minutes, she contorted herself into a new position, which usually ended up with Martha get whacked in the nose or Bullock taking a tiny foot to the face.

They didn’t mind because it was their little one. Plus, sleep evaded them. An owl perched himself on the roof and made sure of it.

“Hoo…hoo.”

Bullock had recounted his meeting with the town fathers to Martha earlier in the evening. The discussion turned into a blow out fight. They’d been quiet for hours until finally Martha addressed the issue once more.

“It’s out of the question.”

“It’s just for a year,” Bullock said.

“A lot can happen in a year,” Martha replied.

“Yes,” Bullock said. “As in I save up a lot of money so I can buy some land and build a home on the outskirts of town – far, far away from all of these people.”

“Or you get shot,” Martha said. “Again. Only this time you’re not as lucky.”

“Make up your mind, woman,” Bullock said. “First you hate this place and are sore at me for bringing you here. Now you don’t want me to take a chance that could fix it.”

“I can learn to…”

The owl interrupted. “Hoo…hoo…”

“…get used to this place. But I don’t want to learn to get along without you.”

Bullock grinned. Then he was bonked upside the head by Maggie’s foot again. But then his grin continued.

“Come on, girl,” Bullock said as he put his arm around his wife. “You know you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“Hoo…hoo…”

“I bet I could shoot it,” Bullock said.

Martha fought against her desire to be mad and laughed. “You could not.”

“I bet you I could,” Bullock said. “Right between its beady eyes.”

“Hoo…hoo.”

“You!” Bullock shouted up at the ceiling, which only exacerbated Martha’s laughter. “You, you glorified pillow stuffing!”

Bullock reached down to the floor, picked up his boot, and tossed it high, right up at the roof. It made a thud sound as it hit the ceiling before it fell to the floor again. There was a ruffling of feathers and then…blissful silence.

“Did you get it?” Martha asked.

“Hoo…hoo.”

In their exhaustion, both Bullocks found this to be hysterical. Someone else did not.

The Bullocks’ elderly neighbor with the stomach problem livened things up with some gun fire.

“Shut the fuck up, bird!” the old man yelled.

More gun shots until finally the owl screeched and flew away.

“You folks all right over there?” the old man asked.

Bullock and Martha looked at each other, trying their best not to laugh until Bullock shouted, “Yup!”

“I didn’t get any of you, did I?” the old man asked.

“Nope!” Bullock shouted. “We’re fine.”

A few moments of quiet followed by, “Name’s Chester by the way.”

“Thanks Chester!” Bullock shouted. “Goodnight!”

“Goodnight, neighbor!” Chester yelled back.

After the hysterics died down, Bullock stroked Martha’s hair. “What was I thinking? We can stay here forever.”

“We can stay anywhere forever as long as it keeps you alive,” Martha said.

“I suppose.”

Quite abruptly, Maggie repositioned herself upright, socking both parents in the face with her hands in the process as she splayed out and made herself comfortable.

Bullock squeezed his daughter’s hand.

“Then again,” Bullock said. “If one year is what it takes to give this little girl a nice yard to play in…”

Martha’s good mood turned sour fast. “Do what you want.”

“I hate to say it but I expect I will,” Bullock replied.

Martha rolled over and turned her back to her husband. “I don’t know that I’ll wait for you the next time…”

“The next time, what?” Bullock asked.

“The next time you do some fool thing that makes bad men chase out of our home in the middle of the night,” Martha said.

“Oh,” Bullock said as he closed his eyes. “Nope. You should definitely not wait if it comes to that.”

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Jun 08 2016
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Tomfoolery

Hitler Freaks Out After Hearing BQB Only Has 3.5 Readers

Hey 3.5 Readers.

A highly classified  video has made its way to BQB HQ.

It’s so top secret I was going to share it, but then I remembered only 3.5 people read this blog.

Apparently I have a critic in Germany:

NOTE: Hitler needs to redo this video. Joseph Heller wrote Catch-22. Not James Heller. Stupid Hitler.

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May 27 2016
2 Comments
Daily Discussion with BQB

Daily Discussion with BQB -Snapchat for Authors

I see a lot of companies, celebrities etc putting out their snapchat handles and I’m not sure why.

My understanding of Snapchat is that it is to millennials what AOL Instant Messenger was to Generation X.

You basically chat through snaps, as the name says.  Take a photo or a video of yourself.  Send it to your friend.  They disappear so if your friend turns out to be a jerk they can’t post or share embarrassing photos/videos you shared due to your bad judgment.

I get why celebs use Twitter or Facebook.  They write on a certain topic.  It is there for people interested in a topic.

But what happens if I friend, say, the Rock on snapchat?  Will the Rock send me a video asking me if I can smell what he is cooking?

If I friend Nicki Minaj on snapchat will she twerk for me?

What gives? Perhaps I am officially too old as I fail to see how this could be a good marketing tool.

I’m wretchedly hideous as are all the people my age (no offense people my age).  No one wants to snap chat with me.  I’m too hideous.

If you’re an author and you use snapchat as a marketing tool, how do you use it?

Do you take videos of yourself saying, “Hey my book is available on Amazon it’s about an elf that fights dragons and shit” or what? What do you do?

What confuses me is there doesn’t seem to be a way to search posts like twitter.

On twitter, for example, I can write, “I wrote a book about #fantasy #elves” and then people searching for info about fantasy and elves will find my post.

But, and correct me if I’m wrong, you can record yourself talking about your fantasy elf book and then hashtag it.

So, and please enlighten me if I’m wrong, but my understanding is you’d basically put your snapchat handle out there and try to add people to your list and then I guess once in awhile you’d send out a photo of yourself holding your book or a video of you talking about your book.

But that seems odd to me.  Instant Messenger seemed like a form of communication between two people, like an alternative to the phone and snapchat seems like the modern equivalent.

I’m not going to give the Rock my phone number to call me to remind me when Fast and Furious part 99 comes out so why would I give him my snapchat handle so he can snapchat me when his movie comes out?

Explain, nerds!  Explain!  If you’re an author who uses this  effectively I’d like to here from you.

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May 27 2016
7 Comments
Zombie Western

A Blog for Zombie Western

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Hey 3.5 Readers.

I originally said I was going to try to write three books and then edit and publish them one right after the other. I realize now how long that will take. After 6 months, I have 80,000 words and I’m not done yet. If I wait, it’ll be years before I get anything published. I don’t want to rush anything but I now realize that I will have to think of the best ways to drop bread crumbs in this book for future books and then as I write the future books, I’ll have to just deal if it ends up there was something I wish I had added in Zombed.

To that end, I’ll need to do a rewrite.

As I rewrite, I’ll need to do a lot of things.  For example, I’ll need to create:

  • A list of characters so I don’t repeat any names.
  • I’ll need to come up with a master time line so I don’t have something happen that cuts off something else from happening.
  • Bios of some of the main characters.
  • Notes on why I made certain choices, went off on this path or that.

I don’t want to put a ton of time in it or have it distract from my main operations here at Bookshelf Battle, but I do think all of these things would be helpful to a rewrite and I don’t see why they couldn’t become content that the 3.5 people who buy the book might enjoy.

I could add the occasional interview with a zombie and/or a western author.

What ideas do you 3.5 readers have for such a blog?

And which WordPress theme would look good for a Western blog?

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May 27 2016
2 Comments
Stop Sucking With Vinny Baggadouchio

Stop Sucking With Vinny Baggadouchio – Why Does My Writing Suck?

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World Renowned Motivational Speaker, Anti-Suck Book Author and Bookshelf Battle Blog Columnist, Vinny Baggadouchio

Hello 3.5 Suckers.

I’m motivational speaker Vinny Baggadouchio and I won’t rest until everyone and everything in the entire world is one hundred percent suck free.

Is a suck free world a lofty, unattainable goal? Maybe. But if we can’t hold out hope for a suckless tomorrow, then why bother trying not to suck today?

If you’re tired of being an economy sized suck face, check out one of my many anti-suck books:

Journey to the Valley of the Suck

Desuckify Now! Ask Me How.

50 Ways to Stop Sucking

A Long Day’s Journey into Not Sucking

I Used to Suck But Now I Don’t

I Sucked but Now I’m Free

How to Spot a Sucker at 50 Paces

A Suckface Says, ‘What?’

The Sucktastic Voyage

Zen and the Art of Sucklessness

Bookshelf Q. Battler tells me this is a blog where writers are free to drop in and discuss ways to improve their writing skills.

As the world’s foremost anti-suck coach, I have counseled many writers on how to perfect their craft and stop writing in such a sucky manner.

MY FORMER WRITER CLIENTS AND HOW I HELPED THEM TO NOT SUCK:

Steven King – In the first draft of Carrie, Carrie and the school bullies learn to resolve their differences over cookies and milk. Carrie’s mother is so moved by this that she seeks professional psychiatric help and vows to become a better, less abusive mother.

I got up in Stevie’s grill and was all like, “Throw a bucket of pig’s blood on your protagonist and get the party started!”

RESULT: Steve’s book sales did not suck at all.

Suzanne Collins – Suzanne originally set out to have Katniss and friends compete in a friendly game of checkers of in order to determine who got to eat the last chocolate chip cookie.

My advice? Add in an evil dictator, give Katniss a bow and arrow and instead of checkers, make all the kids fight to the death.

RESULT: Four part movie deal.  Boo-yah!

GEORGE R.R. Martin – GRRM’s had a vision of a fantasy world where a mere three characters agreed to disagree in a polite manner and followed all the rules while resolving their differences.

“Georgie Boy,” I said. “Try 9,072 main protagonists. Add in lots of backstabbing, violence, betrayal and gratuitous boobs.  Dragons and more dragons. Make a slave girl march across a fantasy continent for like 20 years while she gets set on fire all the time and shows everyone her jugs. Oh, and be sure to make everyone think the good guy is about to win and then boom, he doesn’t.  Also be sure to explain who the bad guy ended up becoming the bad guy so people have no clue how to feel about anything.  Finally, throw in a brother and sister who do it and their doing it destroys all peace and stability in the realm.”

RESULT: George is one rich ass nerd.

DISCLAIMER: Mr. Baggadouchio may or may not have made up the above mentioned anecdotes but in all likelihood he probably did.

So, you want your writing to not suck?

Here are my steps to Desuckifying Your Writing

  1. Write and Read More
  2. Rewrite
  3. Seek Help
  4. Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself

Climb aboard the anti-suck train as we go through these steps one by one:

  1. Write and Read More

If you’re reading this, chances are English is your first language. It could be your second. If you’re new to the English language and this blog is one your first experiences with the English tongue, my condolences, and allow me to recommend this cat named William Shakespeare. That dude’s book sales are legendary. Some very not-sucky numbers.

You might think you know all there is to know about the English language but you don’t. Some know more than others but overall, even the experts are learning new rules every day.  It is difficult to master them all.

To complicate matters, there will always be rules where experts disagree.

The more you write, the better your writing will become.  You didn’t learn how to ride a bike without wiping out a few times and you won’t learn how to write churning out a few sucky turd nuggets on paper either.

Can you learn how to ride a bike by watching someone else ride? It does help.  Thus, you may not realize it at the time, but when you read a book, you learn how another author has handled a scene, dialogue, or other predicament.

Will practice make perfect? Perfection is in the eye of the beholder, but I can tell you that practice will make you suck less.

2.  Rewrite

Rome wasn’t built in a day and your novel won’t be either.  After you write it, you’ll need to rewrite it.

You didn’t know who your characters were when you started. Now you do. You have had time to think about it and you realize certain details need to be added in the beginning. Perhaps a scene isn’t working. Maybe a sentence is clunky.

A good rewrite will knock the suck right out of your book.

Think of your book like a steak.  Sure, you could plop a piece of meat on a plate and serve it up to your guest.  They’ll eat it.  They’ll go away with a full tummy.  They might be left with the notion that you’re a sucky cook due to your poor presentation.

But take that same steak, drop a sprig of parsley next to it, garnish it with some garlic salt and smother it with a nice creamy bearnaise and your guest will be singing your praises.

3.  Seek Help

Your book is like your child. You’re too close to it.  You’ve tried your best but you can’t identify every way it sucks.

Sometimes this is because you’ve grown so used to the suck you can’t tell the suck from the non-suck.

Other times this is because what you believe to not suck does, in fact, suck.

There are editors out there who can help you desuckify your book.

They won’t be cheap and you need to be careful.  Shop around.  Seek recommendations from authors whose books you like.  Do your homework.

But just as a good counselor will be able to analyze your kid and tell you all the ways you can help that kid to stop being such a giant suck bag, so can a good editor check out your book and advise you how to suck the suck right out of that draft.

Remember – once you click the publish button on Amazon, the eyes of the world (well at least the people who come across it) will be on your book.

You want to make a good impression. You want to do all you can to make it so your book does not suck.

4.  Don’t Be So Hard on Yourself

Unfortunately, I’ve a very busy anti-suck coach so I can’t advise you all on a one on one basis.

Some of you may believe that your writing sucks and you may very well be right. You could be correct in assuming that a drunk blindfolded llama with a pen stuck in its mouth could write a better novel than you.

Then again, some of you may be so wary of the need to not suck that you have mistakenly convinced yourself that your writing sucks when it actually does not suck.

Is your novel idea too far fetched?  Maybe.  Is it so far fetched that it sucks? Possibly.

But consider that the most popular show on television today features a drunken dwarf advising a dragon queen how to conquer a land being fought over by bastards, incestuous families, and ice zombies.

Yes Game of Thrones is on HBO, the same network that aired True Blood, a show about vampires who just humped and made funny quips all the time.

Does your farfetched idea suck? Maybe. But if you can honestly visualize it being turned into a show in the HBO lineup, then maybe its just the right kind of suck that people will love.

People, do you realize that for years now, a series of films about a man in an iron suit working with a green rage monster, a Norse God and a well-preserved World War II hero have been the most bankable box office busting flicks?

Let me share a piece of advice that entertainment insiders don’t want you to know:

Most book/movie ideas suck!!!

Do you know what is realistic?

Real life.  You wake up.  You poop. Brush your teeth. Take a shower. Eat a bagel. Go to work. Deal with assholes all day. Come home. Wash your laundry. Watch TV. Go to bed.

REPEAT THAT SHITTY SUCK FEST FOR 60 YEARS!!!

No one wants to read realism in a book.  No one wants to see realism in a movie.

Do outrageously farfetched ideas suck?

In theory, yes.

But they’re a special kind of suck that, if discovered by enough people, could put some fat stacks in your bank account.

CONCLUSIONS

That’s all the desuckification advice I have for you today, 3.5 suckers.

Stop sucking around. Grab your laptop, start clacking your keys and get to work on desuckifying your writing career.

If you still need help, you can always pick up a copy of my book, Suck Free Writing: A Guide for Beginners Who Really Suck at a bookstore that doesn’t suck.

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May 22 2016
3 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 96

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“Fuck those werewolves,” Blythe said. “Once we take D.C. I ought to have the whole lot of them shot.”

Blythe sat on a red velvet couch in a small, cozy cabin. Devoid of any windows, the only light came from a few lit candles sitting on a table.

Sounds of lip smacking filled the room.

“Without humans to contend with, those hairy bastards will no doubt start strutting about in their werewolf forms all day long,” Blythe said. “And before you know it, they’ll be challenging us.”

Blythe waited for a response.  Upon hearing none, he kept talking.

“I’ll be damned if everything I’ve worked for is going to be lost to a bunch of smelly dog men,” Blythe said.

The lip smacking continued.

“I say we as soon as we don’t need them anymore we line them up and shoot the whole lot of them in their ugly heads,” Blythe said. “Silver bullets all around.”

Blythe patiently waited for a response. Hearing none, he continued. “Oh, but I suppose the board will get their knickers in a twist over that idea too. They’ll tell me we need to make nicey-nice with our furry compatriots.”

The room grew quiet…and then…more lip smacking.

“Lamont?” Blythe asked. “Lamont, are you evening listening to me?”

From the other side of the couch, a response came in the form of a male with a cockney British accent.

“Sorry Guvnah,” the voice said. “A bit indisposed I is.”

The lifeless body of young woman dropped to the floor. Blythe took a candle and inspected her face. Pale. Drained of all color. Two holes in her neck.

Blythe looked to his right to see Lamar wiping his blood drenched lips on his shirt sleeve.

Lamont was big and brooding. Broad shouldered and muscular, with little more than black stubble covering his head.

“I didn’t offer you no gravy,” Lamar said as he retracted his fangs. “Was that wicked?”

“A trifle rude but I’m not hungry,” Blythe replied. “Did you hear a word I said?”
“Bob’s your Uncle, I did, I did,” Lamont replied. “Bit of a sticky wicket that business. A fluffy dog be a vamp’s best mate today but it could bite the hand wot feed it tomorrow, yeah? ‘Aint not use for a bollocks dodger but you might  bide your ticks till it do the biting err right’s on your side, wot wot?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying half the time, Lamont,” Blythe replied. “But no matter. I need you to do a job for me.”

“A bit o’ the cat o’ nine tails, is it?” Lamont asked. “Flog your gullivah? Get down to brass tacks and make some brown bread, ay? Butcher’s hook for the ducks and geese. Might make me a bit knackered I nose but who is I to Barnaby Rudge?”

Blythe’s eyes widened with confusion. “Will you just grab your tool kit already?”

“Right-o,” Lamont said as he opened a closet. He removed a large tin box, set it up on the table and opened it.

Knives of all different shapes and sizes. Corkscrews. Surgical tools.

“Blood bags it is?” Lamont inquired.

That question, Blythe understood. “Blood bags it is,” he replied.

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May 19 2016
3 Comments
Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 101

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Major Culpepper’s men stood on the Missouri side of the Sturtevant Bridge, rifles drawn and pointed at a large crowd of people who were undeterred.

The Major himself withdrew his saber and rattled it wildly in the air.

“Back, you rabble! Back, I say!”

An angry farmer wearing a straw hat let the Major have it. “You can’t send us back there! There’s nothing to go back to!”

An elderly woman with three teeth chimed in. “We’ll all be eaten alive by dead folk if you turn us away!”

“Can’t any of you filth read?” Culpepper asked as he pointed his saber to the lone piece of paper that Corporal Bartlett had tacked to a tree. “The president has declared that you are all to be presumed to be zombies and shot if you attempt to cross. My hands are tied. Disperse immediately.”

A weeping woman wrapped in a shawl held up a crying infant wrapped in a blanket.

“Please sir,” she begged. “At least take my baby so that he might have a chance.”

The major’s glare at the fussy baby was interrupted when the corporal tapped him on the shoulder.

“What is it, Corporal?” an annoyed Major asked.

“A word sir?”

The Major nodded and walked a few feet back onto the bridge with the Corporal, leaving his men to keep the crowd at bay.

“Sir,” the Corporal said. “Can’t we take the baby?”

“That was the ugliest baby I’ve ever seen, Bartlett,” the Major said. “For all I know it could be a zombie.”

“Clearly none of these people are zombies,” Bartlett said.

“Oh, and I suppose you’re an expert on the subject now?” the Major asked. “There’s nothing clear about it, Bartlett. We know very little about zombies. Any one of these people could be carriers of the dreaded zombie contagion. What am I supposed to say to the Eastern seaboard when it gets wiped out? ‘Oh sorry, Eastern seaboard, but Bartlett tripped over his vagina when it was time to secure the Sturtevant Bridge?’”
“But sir…”

“No buts about it, Corporal,” the Major said. “Our orders are to deny passage to anyone who attempts to cross this bridge and that’s all there is to it.”

“But sir surely you could exercise some discretion,” the Corporal said.

“What are you on about?”

“This is a confusing situation, isn’t it?” Bartlett asked. “No one’s keeping track of the time. We let the people cross. We blow up the bridge. Who’s to say they didn’t all cross before we even got here? I’ll swear on a stack of bibles I never saw them if we ever get court martialed.”

The Major looked at the woman holding the baby. He surveyed the crowd. So many young frightened faces. Children clutching their parents.

“Bah,” the Major said. “Blast you, Bartlett. I suppose no one could judge me too harshly if I save the women and children but I swear I’ll lop off your balls and stick them in a jar on my mantle if this ever comes back on me.”

“That’s fair, sir,” Bartlett replied.

“Robards!” the Major shouted.

The Major’s demolition expert was crouched over a bundle of dynamite, carefully tying it to a support beam.

A flick of ash fell on the bundle. Robards looked up to see a smoking private.

“Are you trying to make us all go kerblooey?” Robards asked as he stood up and smacked the smoke out of the private’s hands. “Get some sense, numb nuts!”

“Robards,” the Major repeated as he drew closer. “How long?”

“Depends,” Robards replied. “You want it done fast or you want it done right?”

“I want the whole damn thing blown to smithereens so I can get back to camp and take a shit,” the Major said.

Robards took off his hat and scratched his head. “Bout an hour.”

“Very well,” the Major said.

Culpepper and Bartlett walked back to the line of soldiers standing between the crowd and the bridge.

“Attention rabble,” the Major shouted. “In one hour’s time, all women and children will be allowed to cross. Men will be expected to return West to fight the zombie menace with honor and die with dignity. Say your goodbyes. There will be no further discussion of the subject.”

Various angry groans and complaints emanated from the crowd as the people talked amongst themselves.

Culpepper and Bartlett headed back onto the bridge.

“God help us if even one of these people is a zombie, Bartlett,” the Major said.

“Sir,” the Corporal replied. “I am absolutely positive that none of these people are zombies.”

The crowd stretched back for a quarter mile. Doc and Annabelle arrived on Hercules, unable to pass through the mob.

“Look at all these people,” Annabelle said.

“Yes,” Doc whispered. He pulled up his collar, turned down the brim of his hat, and pointed his head downward. “I do hope none of them suspect that I am a zombie.”

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Apr 27 2016
8 Comments
state of the bookshelf

State of the Bookshelf Address – 4/27/16

Sigh.1371251154

This was going to be the year that I was going to get a book self-published.

Now it is almost May and I don’t see that happening.

I’m 65,000 words into How the West Was Zombed.  That’s a new record.  And I can surely get that first draft done this year…but now my gut says in for a penny, in for a pound, I might as well write my next two sequel ideas and then edit and package them and put them all out together.

That could take like, another year.  Crap.

I’ll have to see where I’m at when I’m done with Zombed.  Perhaps I could rewrite it, edit it and publish it and then if people seem to like it, I can write the sequel.

Yet, my gut still tells me to write all three at once.

My gut also tells me I might waste a lot of time on an idea no one likes.

My gut is such a two-faced bitch.

There are a lot of things I am pleased with myself when it comes to Zombed.

Gunther and his sassy old-timer wisdom.

Doc the know it all and his mission to educate the world on the curative properties of cocaine (because, you know, he is an 1800’s doctor after all.)

The love affair between Doc and Annabelle surprised me…Anabelle was meant to be a throwaway character without much development and now I find myself more enthralled with Doc and Annabelle’s romance than the love triangle between Slade, Miss Bonnie and the Widow Farquhar.

Sigh.  Zombed was meant to be a stand alone.  A quickie to give me the experience of getting a self published book under my belt by the end of the year.  An experiment in figuring out what can go right and wrong in self publishing.

But now that it is May and the draft isn’t done yet I feel like I blew it.

Yet, I also feel like I’m at a “it will be done” rather than “will it be done?” phase, which is new for me.

When Zombed is done, I think I will turn my attention towards:

A) Writing the Zombed sequel.

B) Writing a stand-alone book.  And I MEAN STANDALONE.  A book with a beginning, middle and an end, a plot worth it enough to keep turning the pages but not so complicated that I have to sit down with a flow chart and a slide rule the way I’ve been doing with Zombed lately.

And basically what I will do is work on Zombed sequel, then when I get stuck about what happens next, work on the other standalone.

And I’ll share it all on the blog for your comments…and I’ll probably work less on all the funny lists etc. to make more time for novel writing.

I’m not sure what the standalone will be about….ironically, it may be a comedy in modern times about one family’s efforts to deal and come to terms with each other’s bullshit…during a zombie apocalypse.

Sigh.  I never set out to be a zombie guy though.  But in my mind the story has a clear beginning, middle and end and no bizarrely complicated plot about a vampire corporation mucking things up.

This has been hard.  I have so many ideas.  And my ideas are like my babies and when I can’t get them all written it is like I’m abandoning my babies.

At the same time, I do intend to some day move forward with Pop Culture Mysteries.  That film noir private detective style is just so, so much fun for me.

I’ll get to Jake’s hi jinx some day, I guess.

And there are ideas I’ve yet to even share.  There’s one so utterly complicated and befuddling I’m not even sure I’m a good enough writer to write it yet but I hope to get there some day.

Anyway, thanks 3.5 readers.  Stats have been breaking 100 the past two days, the search engines are bringing in like 50 hits a day on their own the past week or so.

This is one of few pursuits I’ve stuck with in life because of the ever improving results.

I mean, the results aren’t that great, I only have 3.5 readers…but in 2014 I only had 1.5 readers.

30.5 readers by 2020, baby.

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Apr 25 2016
5 Comments
BQB's Favorite YouTubers

BQB’s Favorite YouTubers – Ask a Mortician

The things you end up Googling when you’re an aspiring author, let me tell you.

One subject I’ve had to look up is the various ways in which characters could possibly die, what happens when they die, is it possible to live through something, etc.

Writing about zombies gives you the particular need to know how dead bodies decompose, fall apart, etc.

While looking for such information, I happened across the “Ask a Mortician” YouTube Channel.

It is run by Caitlin Dougherty of the website orderofthegooddeath.com

This lady is the funniest mortician I have ever seen (not that I have seen that many.)

She takes questions about what happens to people after they die – how embalming works, how bodies are cremated, why human taxidermy doesn’t work so well, coffin birth (is it possible for a deceased pregnant woman to give birth to a deceased baby, corpse poop, etc.

Here she is in a video explaining what happens to artificial implants in a body when they aren’t burned up during cremation:

Anyway, just throwing it out there, as an aspiring author I have found her videos helpful and I appreciate her ability to explain emotionally difficult topics with humor.

Check her out, 3.5 readers.

Alas, death comes for us all and though we should do our best to keep it at bay for a long, long time it is good to know that professionals like Caitlin are looking out for the deceased and getting them ready for a proper send off.

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Apr 21 2016
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Zombie Western

How the West Was Zombed – Chapter 85

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The Sturtevant Bridge was an impressive architectural masterpiece, spanning over a mile across the Mississippi River, connecting Missouri to Illinois.

Robards was going to make it go boom.  He and the other soldiers attached bundles of dynamite to support beams as Major Culpepper supervised.

“Speed and precision, men,” the Major advised. “We must move quickly but we don’t want to blow ourselves up either.  Bartlett!”

As always, the Corporal was standing at the Major’s side.  “Sir?”

“Ah, there you are,” the Major said as he handed the Corporal an official document.  “Be a good man and tack this to a tree on the Western side, will you?”

The Corporal perused the document:

An Executive Order of President Rutherford B. Hayes

In recognition of the following facts:

  • That dangerous creatures, identified by experts in the occult arts as “zombies” have cut a wide swath of destruction from Colorado to Missouri.
  • That eyewitness reports describe the aforementioned zombies as dead men capable not only of movement, but also in possession of the ability to turn the living into moving dead men by biting them.
  • That further reports claim large wolf like men are working in consort with these zombies.
  • That Secretary of War George McCrary has advised that direct military action against the zombies is ill-advised at this time.

It is so ordered…

  • That the United States Army shall oversee the construction of a wall along the entire length (2,320 miles) of the Eastern side of the Mississippi River, from its start in Minnesota to its end in Louisiana.  The start of this wall will be connected to a wall currently being constructed by the Canadians across border with our nation.
  • All bridges across the Mississippi River are to be destroyed immediately. 
  • All peoples West of the Mississippi River shall be considered to be carriers of the dreaded zombie contagion and will be shot on site should they attempt to cross over to the East side of the river. 
  • To that end, sentries shall be posted across the Eastern banks of the river and will be under orders to shoot all trespassers without reservation or delay.
  • For purposes of the wall construction efforts, all citizens East of the Mississippi River shall be required to forfeit any and all property as deemed necessary.
  • All able bodied men, regardless of age, shall be required to aid in the wall construction effort.
  • All foreign nations are hereby put on notice that all lands West of the Mississippi River, from the river itself to the Pacific Coast, are still considered the property of the United States.  The U.S. government reserves the right to repopulate these lands in the event that the zombie menace should subside.  Therefore, any attempts to invade, conquer or colonize these lands shall be considered an act of war.
  • All living humans West of the Mississippi River are advised to fight the zombies in any method they deem practical.
  • All living humans West of said river continue to remain citizens of the United States and are expected to obey the laws of the same.  Attempts to form an alternative Federal government in the West shall be deemed treason.
  • All duly appointed Federal officers in the West shall retain their positions, are expected to continue in their duties and make arrangements for their replacements should they become incapable of continuing in office.  However, no compensation can be offered in exchange for these duties at this time.
  • All living humans in the West who engage in activities that would normally result in the payment of Federal taxes and/or fees shall continue to pay said sums to their nearest Federal tax collector, who shall hold such sums indefinitely in the event that the zombie menace subsides.

Signed this 4th day of June, 1880.

Rutherford B. Hayes, President of the United States of America

The Corporal looked up from the document.  “All due respect sir, if I were a Westerner, I’d wipe my ass with this.”

“I don’t give a shit what they do with it, Corporal,” the Major said.  “Just get over there, tack that  paper to a tree to put them all on notice then get your ass back here.”

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