Tag Archives: writers

Sanctuary in a Zombie Apocalypse – Stay or Run?

It’s one of the oldest zombie apocalypse tropes going.shutterstock_296856533

A plucky band of survivors happen across a makeshift utopia, a community safe from zombie attacks.

They’re invited in, made to feel welcome, given a purpose, a chance at a new life…and then…BAM!!!

The old double-cross.  They’re betrayed, killed, chopped up into a stew, you name it.

BQB thinks Fort Hauser is a pretty sweet deal and wants to stay.

VGRF thinks its all just a little too perfect and wants to head for the hills.

Who’s right?  Who’s wrong.

3.5 readers, BQB is counting on you. Advise him in the comments as to whether Fort Hauser is haven or a hoax.

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 14 – (Part 3)

Doug gave us the dime store tour of the camp he’d set up in the rec center gym.

Over a hundred makeshift beds were scattered across the wooden floor.  Some people slept on cots, others in sleeping bags, or on sheets and blankets.  Some folks who weren’t able to sleep milled about in different groups.

Near the bleachers, there was a buffet set up.  The welcome smell of hot soup filled my nostrils.

“This was all just a matter of being in the right place at the right time,”  Doug said.  “I’ve been a volunteer coach here since I retired…”

Hauser parlayed his fifteen seconds of fame into a car dealership, Hauser Hyundai.  People from all over stopped by to buy

Doug Hauser - One of East Randomtown's best and brightest, though that's not saying much.

Doug Hauser – One of East Randomtown’s best and brightest, though that’s not saying much.

South Korean cars at a reasonable price and watch Doug recreate his infamous fight scene.  Usually, he’d just whip a long haired wig onto one of his salesmen and ask him to pretend to be Don Johnson.

I witnessed this spectacle myself once when I was twelve and Aunt Gertie bought herself a used Hyundai.

“I was watching my boys score another win when the zombie apocalypse broke out,”  Doug explained. “The fence around the park has kept the monsters at bay and a few brave souls and I have been making daily scrounge missions into town, picking up all the supplies and survivors we can find and bringing them back here.”

“That’s impressive Doug,”  I said.  “East Randomtown is in your debt.”

“Oh it’s nothing, BQB.  I’m just doing what any good citizen in my shoes would do.”

“What’s this I hear you’re the Mayor now?”  I asked.

“Oh that,”  Doug said as he rolled his eyes.  “People just started calling me that.  I never asked for the title but you know how people are.  They need some authority figure to glom onto.  I was sad to hear about Mayor Bramble.  I’m going to call for a fair election as soon as possible.”

“Doug,”  I said.  “About that statue.  You know, I never had anything to do with…”

Doug belted out a big “SHHH!”

“Please BQB.  Of course I know you never asked Bramble to tear my likeness down and replace it with yours.  Do you really think I give a rat’s ass about that thing anyway?”

“You don’t?” I asked.

“Hell no,”  Doug said.  “Thirty years ago I was a dumb kid who tried to become an actor.  Other than getting the shit beaten out of me on one cop drama, it didn’t pan out.  That’s just life.  You try one thing.  It doesn’t work.  You try something else.  Bramble was the one who made a big deal about it.  He was always obsessed with drawing attention to a town no one’s ever heard of, same thing he did with you and your website.”

“You’re a good sport, Doug,”  I said.

“I always lecture my team about good sportsmanship. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t follow my own rules,”  Doug said.

Janet Melman was two years behind me at East Randomtown High.  She went on to become a nurse.

“Hey BQB,”  she said as she walked over in a pair of scrubs.

She turned to Doug.

“We need to talk, Mayor.  I’ve got a list of medications my patients need.  Some of them aren’t going to last long without them.”

“Excuse me, BQB,”  Doug said.  “Please, you and your friends get something to eat and get a good night’s sleep.  We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Doug and Janet walked off.

“And you thought coming here was a bad idea,”  I said.

“I’m still not convinced it wasn’t,”  VGRF said.  “This is all just a little bit too perfect.”

“Think whatever you want,”  I said.  “I’ma get me some hot soup and call another zombie author.”

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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 13 Interview – Michael Cairns – Video Blogging

Michael Cairns headshot High Res copy

FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon           Website

Facebook           Twitter

Today’s zombie author is Michael Cairns, the scribe behind the series, Thirteen Rosesan epic tale that begins with a flower seller who’s forced to save the day in the face of a zombie apocalypse.

Here on the Bookshelf Battle Blog, I like to talk to people about their own personal battles.  Currently, Michael’s winning the battle when it comes to making a name for himself in the writing game, but analysts say the struggle to retain his hair might be lost.

I’m dialing him up on Alien Jones’ space phone now.  Michael?  Bookshelf Q. Battler here.  Let’s talk.

NOTE:  BOLD=BQB; ITALICS=Michael

Q.  Michael, I’m stuck in a rather stressful situation.  I’m in the middle of a zombie apocalypse that’s struck my hometown.  As if that’s not enough, a maniacal alien despot who hates reality television has threatened to conquer Earth if I die before writing a novel that’s so good, it inspires the masses to abandon any and all interest in shows in which vapid, mindless, quasi-celebrities are followed around by cameras all day.  On top of that, a corrupt general is trying to blow me up because I allowed one of my correspondents to write about a top secret mission dating back to World War II on my blog.

But this interview isn’t about me, it’s about you, and I don’t want to bore you with my personal problems.  Suffice it to say, all this stress made me think about your situation.  This year began with you making a pledge to your fans that you’d write fifteen books in 2015.  Further, you promised to submit a daily video log chronicling your efforts.

We’re on the tail end of 2015.  How has the challenge gone, what inspired you to do this in the first place and how have you dealt with the ensuing stress?

A.  Hi Bookshelf. First, can I say how sorry I am to hear about your terrible situation? That sounds like pretty dire straits to me. If you’ll forgive a little advice, I’d urge you to keep eating your greens to keep your strength up, and never leave home without at least two chainsaws about your person at all times.

With regards to your question, it’s been a pretty crazy year.  Just to clarify, the challenge was to publish 15 books.  My inspiration for this was that I wrote 15 books in 2014. I then sat down with another indie-published friend of mine who threatened to kick my arse unless I actually did something with them. So, the challenge was born. To keep things interesting, I also opted to write a million words, publish a short story on my blog every week and vlog my journey every day. The challenge has, so far, gone remarkably well. I’ve published 6 books and have another three less than a month away. So the last few months of 2015 are going to be pretty packed, but it’s still doable, assuming I’m willing to completely lose what remains of my sanity.

Regarding the rest of the challenge, that I’ll easily do. I’m going to hit a million words sometime around the beginning of October, and my short stories are, fortunately, getting better each week.

As far as stress goes, it’s been a mix. I’ve given up shaving, given my chocolate addiction free reign, and taken to shouting at myself on long car journeys…okay, maybe not so much of the last one. It has been stressful, though mostly in a fun way. I have two young children at home and also decided to move house in July, so that’s only added to the fun…

Q.  I whine louder than a balloon with air escaping out of it about how I can never find the time to write, but here you are living the dream.  Do you have any advice for my 3.5 readers about how to balance writing with all of the other curveballs that life throws our way?

A.  Excellent question. I think the answer to that lies in a couple of things. The first is to examine yourself and your habits, and decide how organized you are. If you are someone who does things in a random, scatty kind of way, it can be tricky to develop the discipline to write on a regular basis. Tricky, but by no means impossible. I wrote a guest blog post on how to develop said habit, which you can check out here.

The second thing is to decide how important writing is to you. I know that seems kind of obvious, but it’s easy to say how much it matters. The question is, is it important to ditch reruns of The Walking Dead? Is it important enough to wake up an hour earlier each morning? Simple things that will develop your writing habit.

I can highly recommend Julie’s website that tracks her first year in the self-publishing business. She’s a romance writer, so if you’re struggling to find the light at the end of your apocalypse shaped tunnel, Bookshelf, it might just help brighten your day. 🙂

Q.  How has daily video logging worked out for you?  Is that a means of author/fan communication that you’d recommend for aspiring writers?

A.   I have to be honest about this, it’s been hard work. I’ve got the process, from recording the vlog to having it uploaded onto Youtube and posted on my blog, to tweets scheduled down to about 20 minutes, but there have been more than a few nights when it’s the last thing I’ve wanted to do. Have said that, it’s also been great fun. I’ve gotten almost comfortable talking to myself, certainly improved my ‘umms per minute’ rate, and have a wonderful record of the year. I’ve also got to vlog from all sorts of interesting places. I toured Italy a couple of times with my band in the summer, so I’ve vlogged from over there. I’ve also been to numerous festivals and concerts and done the same from there, so it’s been fun. With regards to author/fan communication, I wouldn’t put it near the top of the list. I’ve had a few nice chats with the videos as a springboard, but not nearly as many as via emails and twitter.

Follow Michael’s 15 for 15 challenge on cairnswrites.com!

Q.  One Goodreads reviewer described Thirteen Roses as “The Walking Dead as if written by Neal Gaiman.  Is that a fair 51BTDCI9zlL__SX331_BO1,204,203,200_assessment and if so, why?

A.   I wish!! I loved that quote. It was the kind of quote you couldn’t pay to get, and that it was entirely not my doing was even better! Neil Gaiman’s Sandman is still one of my favorite comic series of all time, so I was beyond flattered to have that comparison made. I’d like to think I could get somewhere close to him in terms of characterization if nothing else, but I’d have to leave that up to the reader to decide…

Q.  There are a number of zombie apocalypse books which feature a science based beginning, i.e. an experiment gone wrong,  (which coincidentally is how my zombie apocalypse began), terrorists who discharge a virus, or some other physical phenomena.  I understand your zombie series has more paranormal origins.  I don’t mean to ask for spoilers, but can you elaborate a bit for my 3.5 readers?

A.   Without wanting to cop out, it’s very difficult to divulge much of the paranormal side of things without giving everything away. Having said that, I’m happy to say that the origin of the zombies is fairly standard. Am ambitious and slightly naive science student spends far too much time messing with an airborne-delivered toxin. The government takes it away from him, only to have some religious nuts discover the answer to their very screwed up prayers and get involved. The paranormal element comes in with the people left behind, the sorry survivors such as yourself. There’s more to it than that, but I really don’t want to spoil all the fun.

Q.  I might know a guy who’s also losing the battle for his hair.  Note that it’s not me at all, just some other unnamed person.  Any advice on follicle stimulation that I could pass along to this individual or should he just give up the goose?

A.  Alas, I’ve tried all sorts. I can confirm that having kids, moving house, and eating your own body weight in chocolate don’t help with hair growth, despite all my wife’s assurances that they would. Actually, she might not have said the thing about the chocolate…

Q.  Michael, thanks for taking a few minutes to speak with me today.  Before I go, do you have any final words of wisdom that might help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

Food! Head to the nearest library and get yourself some books on farming. Simple, self-sustaining farming is a must with all that supermarket fruit and veg already rotting away. Similarly, find some goats and put a fence around them. Chickens, too, if you can find them.

However, considering the people you surround yourself with, I’d have thought finding a space ship and getting the hell off this Godforsaken rock would be the only true way to survive.

Best of luck and lovely to talk to you.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE: Thanks, Michael!  I’m going to check with Alien Jones on that, but he’ll probably bore me with some lecture about Intergalactic Space Law, which I usually just take as code for him being too lazy. Good luck with your challenge!

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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 12 Interview – Joe McKinney – Legendary Zombie Master

jm

FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon           Website

     Twitter               Facebook

Bram Stoker award winning novelist Joe McKinney is to fans of zombie fiction what Elvis is to rock and roll.  Simply mention Joe’s name to zombie enthusiasts and they’re likely to swoon and pass out.

If a zombie invasion were to ever go down, Joe could handle it.  After all, in his day job, he’s a Sergeant with the San Antonio, TX Police Department, where he’s a patrol supervisor.  He’s also worked as a homicide detective and a disaster mitigation specialist.

51CTSWUWJzL__SX302_BO1,204,203,200_As if that weren’t impressive enough, he’s also the author of the Dead World series.  The action begins in Dead City.  After a series of hurricanes rocks the Gulf Coast, a zombifying virus spreads to San Antonio, where police officer Eddie Hudson has to brave a zompoc in order to get his wife and son to safety.

Joe’s also the author of the Deadlands series, the latest book of which, The Dead Won’t Die, came out last month on September 29.  In fact, word has it that he’s heading to Atlanta October 16 and 17th for book signings, so if you’re in The Walking Dead territory, you might want to keep a pen handy.

Thanks for taking the time to speak with me today, oh wise zombie master.  My 3.5 readers and I greatly appreciate it.

NOTE: BOLD=BQB; ITALICS=JOE

Q.   You got in on the ground floor of a zombie fiction renaissance that began in the mid-2000’s and to date, doesn’t show any signs of stopping.  What is it about zombies that have kept fans of these creepy creatures coming back for more after all these years?

A.   I was on a zombie panel at a horror convention a while back, and one of my fellow panelists was a writer who is generally regarded as “one of the literary elite” sort. I like this guy.  I have a lot of respect for him, both as a person and as a writer.  I’d even go so far as to call him a mentor.  And we’re good friends on top of that.  Well, somebody from the audience threw out a question very similar to this and my friend answered something like this:  “Zombies are a symptom of our self-loathing.  We so hate ourselves and our society that we invent a straw man like the zombie, a monster that both looks enough like us so that we see in its putrefaction how much we disgust ourselves and yet is anonymous enough that we can imagine those who anger us as we fire an endless barrage of headshots at the approaching horde.”

Now, I don’t totally buy that.  I don’t think self-loathing, or even societal loathing, is a strong enough emotion to turn a drive-in movie monster into a cultural archetype.  There may be something to that explanation, especially for the readers who spend too much time arguing about politics on Facebook, but that isn’t everybody.

What about the rest of us?  Why do we love zombies?  Well, aside from the creeping dread that comes with imagining streets filled with the undead and the way really great zombie stories tend to treat the apocalypse like a crucible that distills humanity down to its core, I think the zombie has caught on because it’s a blank page upon which writers and readers can draw anything they want.  What are you afraid of?  Disease; death of the mind, a la Alzheimer’s; societal collapse; or possibly illegal immigration?  You name it, if you’re scared of it, we have a zombie for you.  They are sponges for metaphor.  They can be anything you want them to be, and I believe that that’s their secret storytelling power. 

Q.   On your site, you mention how your daughter’s birth inspired you to follow your dream of becoming a writer, but it wasn’t easy.  You explain how you penned a 1950’s style space opera, came to the conclusion that it was “crap,” and wondered why you were even bothering.  Honestly, in my experience, most aspiring authors stop when they reach the “This is crap!” point, but you kept going and today you’re a rousing success.

For those of us who are convinced our writing is “crap,” can you give us a little pep talk to inspire us to keep going until we hit our non-crappy groove?

A.   Getting started is hard. Really hard.  There are days when you spend a lot of time looking at yourself in the mirror wondering why you’re even bothering.  And when you do finally get your first few pieces out there, there’s never a shortage of nasty trolls to tell you how you shouldn’t have bothered in the first place.  You need a lot of hard work, a lot of bullheaded determination, and a really thick skin.  Oh, and a super harsh inner critic that isn’t afraid to occasionally be a cheerleader.  Like I said, it’s hard.

But it can be done.  And while I can’t tell you the secret of finding that determination you need to get out of your own way, I can let you in on a little secret that will make it easier for you to write that first novel.

First, outline your story, in exhaustive detail, before you ever start thinking of your opening sentence.  It seems like every time I go to a convention, somebody says, “You know, I’ve got this novel I’ve been working on for three years now.”  I usually stop them right there and ask them if they outline or write by the seat their pants.  Invariably, I get some confused rambling about how Stephen King said writers should be pantsers because anything else would stifle creativity.  I usually answer by pointing out that never getting the story written is even more stifling to creativity.  Outline, outline, outline.  It’s the first step to success.  My outlines for novels will usually go 70 to 90 pages and they take me about two months to write…about the same amount of time as the novel itself.

The second part of the secret?  Write a little bit every day.  Don’t listen to the stories of Ray Bradbury writing Fahrenheit 451 in 9 days, or Robert Louis Stevenson writing Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde in 3 days.  You don’t need that kind of self-abuse.  What you do need is a manageable word count that you promise yourself each day.  When I started out, that promise was 500 words a day.  These days, it’s 1,500.  But you have to work up to that.  You have to start with digestible chunks and gradually build up from there.  Remember: How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time!

Q.   “Write what you love” is one piece of advice you mention on your blog.  Specifically, you hit your stride when you realized that after growing up on a steady diet of monster flicks, the zombie apocalypse genre was right up your alley.

So in other words, aspiring writers should just be themselves and stop trying to be something they’re not?

A.   Yeah, pretty much. One simple lesson I try time and again to convey is that if you want to be interesting, you have to be interested.  What that means is that you have to love what you’re writing about.  I don’t mean simply loving zombies, so you write a zombie story.  I mean loving the life of being a cop with a family, and so you write a zombie story about a cop trying to fight his way home to his family on the first night of the zombie apocalypse.  You’ll see the same love in every writer you read, both the great ones and the hacks.  The point is that writing is all about getting your inner joy out there, even if the mood in which that joy conveys is tragic.  Simply put, if you don’t love it, nobody else will either.  It doesn’t matter what you’re interested in.  If you are crazy cool madly in love with ladybugs, and you write a murder mystery, or a romance, or a horror novel, or a science fiction space opera about how cool ladybugs are, your chances of successfully connecting with an audience just went up about ten thousand percent.  We don’t care what your interest is, just that you convince us that you love it, and that we should too…through your characters!

Q.   “Write what you know” is a phrase often heard in the literary world.  As a police officer, you know law enforcement procedure and it shows in your writing.  For example, when I discovered that Dead City involved a series of hurricanes, it didn’t surprise me to learn that you worked as a disaster mitigation specialist.

How else have you drawn on your police experience to bring greater detail to your writing?  And should aspiring scribes go out and get some experience in something, anything before they put pen to paper?

A.   Well, I have to be careful about that. My department has specific rules about writing for publication that prohibit me from writing on cases I have personally worked on and cases that have yet to be adjudicated.  You can imagine why.  Imagine being a rape victim.  You somehow work up the courage to report the rape, and you spend the afternoon pouring your soul and anger and all the rest of it out to a detective.  Now imagine that detective turns around and sells your story to some magazine somewhere.  Imagine the outrage and violation you would feel.  I take my oath as a cop very seriously, and that trust is a bond I will never break.

Still, I get quite a bit of mileage from the things I’ve learned on the job.  Being on the job you learn a lot about human nature, and that definitely helps with writing.  It also helps with creating a unique niche for my writing.  Lots of horror utilizes police procedure, but grudgingly, because most writers lack any firsthand knowledge of it.  Writers will create situations where the police have to make an appearance, and then they’re forced to tap dance until they find a reason to get rid of the police.  I see it all the time.  I don’t have that problem, though.  I would definitely recommend that all writers develop some kind of skillset like that, be it beekeeping or pot making or anything, really.

Q.   You hold a Master’s Degree in English Literature.  For anyone out there hoping to break into the literary world, do you recommend such a formal course of study?

A.   It worked for me, but I’m just one voice shouting in the wilderness. I know hundreds of writers, and they come from every profession imaginable.  Some are butchers; some are call girls.  Some are beekeepers; some are college professors.  Some are cowboys; some are stand up comedians.  One writer I know owns a barbeque restaurant in New Braunfels, Texas that serves the best braised beef short ribs you could possibly imagine.  It really doesn’t matter what your background is.  What does matter is that you love something so much that you want, want, need to fit it into a story.  Find that spark inside you, and the words will come.  I promise. 

Q.   OK.  Here’s a big question.  You’re a busy police officer.  On top of that, you’ve got a family.  And yet, amidst all of these important commitments, you have managed to have an amazing career as a writer.

Meanwhile, I don’t want to call myself a slacker, but one time I sat down with my laptop to write an epic masterpiece, got frustrated after the first few lines, then ended up watching a Steven Seagal movie marathon while devouring an entire box of Oreos instead.

Please, for myself, and anyone else who can’t get their act together, give us some tips on how to juggle work, family, other stuff that happens in life, and still find time to pursue writing.

A.   Any author who tells you every day is an orderly procession of getting the words on paper is a filthy liar. Some days are hard, even after you make a name for yourself.  Some days, the Oreos and movie marathons are what the body and soul need.  There’s no shame in that.

But you have to hold two seemingly disparate ideals in mind if you want to write professionally.  First, you have to have a love of craft and a determination to keep butt in chair that, frankly, defies human nature.  The kids are playing with the dogs in the backyard, and begging you to come join them.  There’s a lovely breeze blowing.  Your youngest looks at you with a smile you know won’t be there in her angsty teenage years.

But you have a deadline.

That kind of denial of human nature.  Bullheadedness, my wife calls it.  Maybe even assholery.  Yeah, it sucks that bad.

But how do you get to have problems like that?  Well, that comes with manageable word counts.  Seriously, folks, 500 words a day.  Treat everyday like it’s NaNoWriMo.  Do 500 words a day.  You can do it.  Outline first, figure out what you’re going to be writing during those precious few moments out of each day that you can spare for the keyboard, and then start typing.  Get the first draft done.  Don’t go back and edit what you wrote the day before, just push forward to the end.  Once you’re done, go back and edit.  That’s why they call them first drafts. 

Q.   Thanks for checking in, Joe.  Before I go, do you have any last minute advice that might help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

A.   Well, yes…obviously Cardio! Oh, and as a cop, I wholeheartedly recommend the double tap as well.  But after that: Be smart.  Be watchful.  Pay attention; it don’t cost nothing.  Take a good look around you every moment of every day.  Even if the apocalypse doesn’t come (and I think I’m not alone in kind of wishing that it would come), you will still have the observational aptitude to write about it.

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 12 (Part 3)

“Where to?”  VGRF asked.

“You know where, babe,”  I replied.

VGRF took a right onto Pondmore Road and from there it was smooth sailing.  An occasional zombie would take interest, but they were no match for a skilled driver.

Five minutes later, VGRF pulled up to a box shaped building.  The sign on the front read:

Decrepit Oaks

Our Seniors Put the “Do” in “Can-Do!”

“You’re going to risk our lives for your old ass aunt?”  Blandie asked.

“You know, Aunt Gertie used to talk about you all the time,”  I said.

Blandie perked up.  “Really?  What did she say?”

Aunt Gertie - Dead, missing, or zombified?

Aunt Gertie – Dead, missing, or zombified?

“That you’re shallow, materialistic and when it comes to relationships, you care more about what a man looks like than what he’s got going on inside.”

“And that’s a problem…why?”

“I give up, Blandie,”  I said.  “If you want to stay in the car, fine, but I need to check to see if the woman who raised me is still alive.”

“Fine.  I’m coming.”

I got out and Bernie passed Alien Jones to me.  The little guy was still exhausted from shooting a force field out of his body, so we were on our own for the rest of the day.  I threw him over my shoulder like he was an extra bag.  He didn’t weigh that much at all.

The gang grabbed our gear and we entered the old folks home.

Decrepit Oaks wasn’t so much a nursing home as it was an apartment building for old timers.  It catered to elderly folk who were still active, but needed some help with meals, cleaning, and so on.  I’m not sure my aunt even needed to live there but that’s what she wanted.  There were times when I thought Gertie might live long enough to bury us all.

Bernie and VGRF shined their flashlights.  The place was deserted.  Oddly though, everything appeared to be in immaculate condition.

We headed down the hallway to the residential section.

“Yo, y’all need to be hella careful,”  Bernie said.  “Some of these damn old peeps might look just like zombies.  You don’t wanna gank an old ass human by accident.”

“That’s partially accurate and partially offensive, Bern,”  I said.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s her number?”  VGRF asked.

“Forty-nine.”

We walked and walked.  Along the way, a few apartment doors had been left open.

I peeked inside each one of them.  They were all nice and neat, beds freshly made, everything in order.

“Maybe they were able to evacuate in time?”  VGRF asked.

“I hope so,”  I said.

We reached forty-nine.  Gertie had given me a spare key.  I found it on my ring and opened the door.

The place was a mess.  The coffee table was turned up on its side.  Broken glass pieces were strewn everywhere.  A lamp was shattered on the floor.

From the bathroom came a loud moan.  I put Alien Jones down on Gertie’s bed, drew my gun, pointed it at the door, and nodded to Bernie, bidding him to open it.

Sure enough, a zombie ran out.  He’d once been a young man, late twenties, in combat fatigues.  Whoever he was, he was out of place at an old folks home.  I exploded his head with one shot.

Zombie attack!

Zombie attack!

I borrowed VGRF’s flashlight and entered the bathroom.  The floor and walls were soaked with blood.  In the tub, there was a ripped apart corpse.  It was so badly disfigured that it was unrecognizable.

VGRF put her hand on my shoulder.

“Is it…”

“I…I don’t know.  God I hope not.”

Bernie picked up the Esteemed Brainy One and carried him for me for awhile.

“What now?”  my friend asked.

“This place looks pretty safe,”  I said.  “Let’s clear all the rooms to be sure, lock the building up, then pick a room and spend the night.  We’ll consult Alien Jones on what to do next when he wakes up.”

“I can’t stay here,”  Blandie said.  “This whole place reeks of bengay and depression.”

“Then feel free to…”

“I know, I know,”  Blandie said.  “Wait in the car.  Fine.  Lead the way.”

An hour later we finished checking all the apartments and after discovering the building was zombie free, we locked the front and back doors, took over apartment one, the unit closest to the front door in case we had to make a break for it, and settled in.

“You guys get some sleep,”  I said as I took a seat on the couch.  “I’ll take first watch.”

Bernie stepped out of the bedroom and made some googly eyes at Blandie.

“The bed’s big enough to share if you catch my drift.”

“I’ll rip off any part of you that touches me, nerd,”  Blandie said as she walked into the bedroom and slammed the door in Bernie’s face.

“Shoties be trippin’ yo,” Bernie said.

He crashed on the floor.

VGRF snuggled up into my arm nook.

“Are you going to call another zombie author now?”  she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, “And a plot this thick requires not just any zombie author, but one of the most legendary zombie masters of all time!”

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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 11 Interview – Rachel Aukes – Dante Zombified

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FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon                  Website

Facebook                 Twitter

My guest today is Rachel Aukes, author of The Deadland Saga.  Set in a zombie infested midwest, the first book of the series, 100 Days in Deadland, was named one of the best books of 2013 by Suspense Magazine.  The trilogy concluded in May of this year with Deadland Rising.

Under the pen name, “Berinn Rae,” Aukes also wrote Stealing Fate, a USA Today recommended read.

Ahh let me see here.  Pick up the old space phone.  Dial up Rachel.  It’s ringing.  Hmm hmm la la la.  Hello!

RACHEL: Hey, BQB. Great to hear from you! How’s life treating you?

NOTE:  BOLD=BQB; ITALICS=Rachel

51thgaVbyUL__SX311_BO1,204,203,200_Q.  Terrible, Rachel.  I’m currently riding out a zombie apocalypse in a small locked room.  Outside, zombies are desperate to get in here and gobble me up like a nice Christmas ham.  Inside, I’m stuck with my insufferable ex-girlfriend, who complains about everything I do.  Naturally, I feel like I’m trapped in the seventh circle of hell. 

But I don’t want to bother you with my personal problems.  What I want to know is what inspired you to weave that classic English 101 staple, Dante’s Inferno, into 100 Days in Deadland?

A.   I’d always wanted to write a zombie tale but never found the right inspiration… that was, until I was watching O Brother Where Art Thou one night, which is a quirky retelling of Homer’s Odyssey. Dante’s “Inferno” popped into my mind, and instantly I knew the zombie tale I needed to write.

Oh, and look at the bright side. You’re not trapped inside with two ex-girlfriends.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  TWO ex-girlfriends?  What am I, Hugh Hefner?

Q.  The series continues, mashing Dante Alighieri’s other writings with zombitastic goodness.  I’m going to go out a limb and guess you’re a lover of the classics.  If you could zombify another classic novel, which one would it be and why?

A. I do love the classics. Most modern stories I’ve read seem to be simply new versions of old stories. If I zombified another classic, I’d go for The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baroness Emma Orczy (a newer classic). I think it’d be a hoot to write a fun romp of a witty master of disguise who rescues people during the zombie apocalypse.

Q.  Your protagonists come from two very different backgrounds.  Cash is an office worker with few survival skills while Clutch is a battle hardened veteran/PTSD sufferer.  Do disasters have a tendency to bring people together who would normally never have anything to do with one another?

A. I believe disasters unveil the best and worst in people by throwing them into inconceivable situations without a lifeline. Cash and Clutch never would’ve met in their normal lives. It took Cash running from zombies on the interstate and being given a lift by Clutch in his big rig for the two to be given the chance to meet… and discover that they made a perfect zombie-killing pair.

Q.  You’ve also written sci-fi romance under your pen name, “Berinn Rae.”  What are some of the key components of a good sci-fi romance story?

A. Sci-fi romance needs to have the same ingredients of any good story—a tempo that turns the page, characters we can love or hate, and a plot that makes us think. For sci-fi romance, you sprinkle on a happily-ever-after ending (or happily-for-now in the case of my stories since I’ve never been one for Disney princess stories). Then, stir in elements of science fiction. In my Colliding Worlds trilogy, an intergalactic war came to earth.

Q.  Rachel, you’ve received accolades from USA Today and Suspense Magazine.  Did you ever dream you’d get this far when you first put pen to paper (or fingers to keys?)

A.  Hell, no. I began writing because I had too many stories playing bumper cars in my head. I was ecstatic when people paid money for my stories. Whenever my stories receive accolades, I’m downright delirious. I love telling stories—that I’m fortunate enough to be building a career out of it makes me feel like the luckiest person on earth.

Q.  Speaking of, how did you end up writing professionally?

A. After I wrote my first story (a paranormal thriller), I shopped it around to a few agents and small presses. One of those small presses gave me my first break (This was before self-publishing had become a big thing). With that first sale, I learned the full editing process and the publishing process on a publisher’s dime. Not long after, I wrote a sci-fi with mild romantic elements and got a three-book deal with a larger house for the Colliding Worlds Trilogy. It took me three years before I dipped my toes in the self-publishing waters with the Deadland Saga, and I’ve never looked back.  

Q.  Thanks for taking the time to help a nerd out.  Before I return to my own seventh circle of hell, do you have any last minute words of advice that could help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

A. Use the ex-girlfriend as bait so you can escape. It’s a win-win situation… for you, anyway.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  Not a terrible idea.  I’ll submit it to the group and let them mull it over.

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#31ZombieAuthors – WEEK 2 – Last Week/Next Week with Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian

ANNOUNCER:

Ladies and Gentlemen and assorted undead things, the following is an announcement from the management.  The Holy Water being passed around is bad.  Repeat…it is bad.  The Holy Man who blessed it was ordained online from a fly by night church out of Barbados.  Totally does not count.  Any monster you throw it at will just laugh at you.

And now…ugh, why are you people still here?  Haven’t you heard there’s a zombie apocalypse?  Oh well, put whatever you’ve got left for Schecky Blargfeld, Zombie Comedian!

SCHECKY:

Hey there all you ghosts and goblins!  It’s good to be here on bookshelfbattle.com – said no one, EVER!!! BUAH HA HA!

Seriously, Bookshelf Q. Battler’s audience is really small…

AUDIENCE:

HOW SMALL IS IT?

SCHECKY: 

Thank you, audience!  Wow, that was about as spontaneous as my yearly proctologist appointment!

BQB’s audience is so small…a gremlin just called it shorty!

::::rimshot:::::

BQB’s audience is so small…even Frankenstein can count how many readers he has!

::::rimshot::::

Yes, my friends, BQB’s audience is so small, WordPress prints his stat reports on…a postage stamp!  (And they still have room left over).

But let’s not get hung up on BQB’s low readership when instead, we can thank the fine zombie authors who showed up last week:

COMPLETED INTERVIEWS:

Monday, October 5 – Perrin Briar

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Blood Memory, Z-Minus, Swiss Family RobinZOM – hell, this guy has killed more zombies on his pages than Rick Grimes and Michonne on a double date.

Tuesday, October 6 – S.G. Lee

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S.G. Lee and BQB compared zombie battling advice as well as toy collections.  Yes, they are both grown men.

Wednesday, Oct. 7 – Gillian Zane

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BQB asked the NOLA zombie series author how to become an alpha male.  Jeeze, that’s like asking an engineer to teach a chimp how to build a nuclear reactor.  In fact, the chimp have more success.

Thursday, Oct. 8 – Joseph “Zombie” Zuko

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Joseph “Zombie” Zuko stopped by bookshelfbattle.com to help BQB get “apocalypse fit.”  It lasted for five minutes and then BQB immediately reached for a box of ding dongs.

Friday, Oct. 9 – Devan Sagliani

devanauthorphoto copyThe HVZ: Humans vs. Zombies screenwriter stopped by to dispense writing advice to our resident poindexter.  Will BQB ever get his act together and write a novel?  I don’t know, but word has it that zombies will go on a no-brain diet first.  Thanks for educating our resident nerd anyway, Devan.

Saturday, Oct. 10 – Armand Rosamillia

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Armand has written over 150 stories and puts out 2 podcasts.  Last week, BQB feel asleep on his couch whilst eating a taco.  Let’s hope some of the can-do attitude of these zombie scribes will rub off on our resident nerd.

WHO’S UP NEXT?

TODAY – Rachel Aukes of the Deadland Saga is going to counsel BQB through being stuck locked in a room with his ex-girlfriend.

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TOMMORROW – Legendary zombie writer Joe McKinney will talk to BQB about striking a balance between work and writing life, the zombie craze, and why it’s important to stop and smell the roses.

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Tuesday, October 13 – Michael Cairns

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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 BQB about how its going.   

Wednesday, October 14 – Kate L. Mary 

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

Thursday, October 15 – Peter Meredith

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As BQB’s 3.5 readers are aware, he was once so wrapped up in finding the meaning of life, he actually went on an epic adventure to find it.  Thus, he 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.

Friday, October 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 combining 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 BQB the 411 on how to improve his book blog.

Hey, BQB!  Here’s a thought – review a book!

Saturday, October 17 – Jeremy Laszlo

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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?

FINAL THOUGHTS

Don’t forget to check out BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal, 3.5 readers!  I hear this week BQB and the gang actually make it out of the East Randomtown Mall!  Will they survive?  Will they become zombie lunch?  Who knows?

 

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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.

NOTE:  BOLD=BQB; ITALICS=Armand

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 10

The quarters were cramped in the back office of Hipster Hutt.  There was barely enough room for us to huddle together on the floor.  I missed the luxurious space and cornucopia of supplies provided by Price Town.

Blandie, who’d discovered Alien Jones’ space phone, wasn’t doing much to reassure me that saving her was worth it.

Alien Jones grabbed his aching head.

“I’ve traveled from one end of the universe to the other and I swear humans are the only beings who react to a being they aren’t sure of by kicking it in the face,”  the Esteemed Brainy One said.

Ignoring her victim, Blandie used AJ’s space phone to take one selfie after another to post on Randombook, a popular social media site catering to both East and West Randomtown.

“Hashtag Zombie Apocalypse,”  Blandie said as she typed with her thumbs then posed for another one.

“She certainly is in love with herself,”  VGRF noted.

The duck face selfie - a mystery even to the Esteemed Brainy One

The duck face selfie – a mystery even to the Esteemed Brainy One

“Why do Earth females insist on taking photos of themselves whilst making their lips protrude like a duck bill?”  Alien Jones asked.  “Are Earth men attracted to water fowl?”

The space phone let out a loud ring and then projected a three foot tall hologram of another alien.

Surprised, Blandie shouted a trail of obscenities and dropped the phone.  The hologram shut off but we could still hear an angry voice.

“JONES?  JONES!  HOW DARE YOU HANG UP ON YOUR SUPREME OVERLORD?!”

“For the love of Scalamox’s Forbidden Quadrant!”  Alien Jones shouted as he dove for the phone.

The Esteemed Brainy One punched a few buttons and the hologram was back.

We all stared at the image of an alien who looked similar to Alien Jones, but wore an elaborately bejeweled crown, a flowing cape, and carried a scepter.  Also, he was gray instead of Alien Jones’ usual green color.

Alien Jones set the phone on the desk then hit the ground, bowing up and down repeatedly.

“I’m sorry Oh Potent One.  It was one of the miserable humans.  She dropped the phone with her clumsy ape like fingers.  All hail the Mighty Potentate!!!”

AJ turned his head toward us.

“Hail the Potentate, you barbarians!”

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY POTENTATE!

It was always an odd experience to see Alien Jones communicate with his boss, the Mighty Potentate, Supreme Overlord of Alien Jones’ homeworld.  AJ was a being of great wisdom who’d dedicated his life to reason and rational thought and yet whenever his boss was around, he turned into a blubbering lackey.

I can’t say as I blame him, what with the Mighty Potentate’s track record for vaporizing his subordinates.

VGRF, Bernie and I let loose a very half-hearted, “All Hail the Mighty Potentate.”

“What?”  Blandie asked.  “I didn’t vote for him.”

“Ha ha,”  Alien Jones said.  “Human humor.  To what do I owe the pleasure of your most glorious transmission, Your Potentosity?”

“Jones,”  the maniacal despot said.  “What is this I hear that the Chosen One’s life is in jeopardy?”

“Jeopardy?”  Alien Jones asked, trying to deflect the question with a question.  “I know of no jeopardy, Oh Mighty One.  Chosen One, are you well?  Are you feeling jeopardized?”

I didn’t know the protocol of how to address this particular alien situation.

“I…uh…feel fine?”

“I’m not talking about his health,”  the Mighty Potentate said.  “Although now that we’re talking about it, son of a braying tawazal beast Jones, would it kill you to get the Chosen One to do a few jumping jacks once in awhile?  He’s looking awfully pudgy.”

“Duly noted,”  Alien Jones said, and then to me yelled, “Chosen One!  Jumping Jacks immediately!”

“Aw come on.”

“How dare you defy the Most Potent of Us All?”

“Fine.”

There wasn’t a lot of room but I managed to provide a few lackluster jumping jacks for show.

“Jones, I’m talking about allegations of a zombie apocalypse in the Chosen One’s residential area.  It’s been all over the human television transmissions.  Are these reports valid or are the just a new form of that most reviled form of media…”

The Mighty Potentate shuddered then continued, “…reality television.”

“I’m sorry, Supreme Overlord.  I do not wish to disappoint you but I cannot lie to your either.  The reports are true but rest assured, your humble servant is on the case and I will not rest until the Chosen One is delivered to safety.”

“See that you do,”  the Mighty Potentate said.  “And how is the Chosen One’s novel coming along?”

Alien Jones stalled on that question, just as I’d been stalling to write my novel my entire life.

“Come again, oh Omnipotent Overlord?”  Alien Jones said.  “The transmission is fading and I…”

It was never a good idea to screw with the Mighty Potentate.

“DO NOT DECEIVE ME, JONES!  I DEMAND A STATUS REPORT ON THE CHOSEN ONE’S NOVEL AT ONCE!”

It’s a good thing Alien Jones doesn’t poop, because he probably would have.  He was surely trembling like he wanted to.

“You heard the Mighty Potentate, Chosen One!  Report on your novel immediately!”

I stepped in front of the hologram.

“Umm…hello Mr. Potentate.”

“Greetings, Chosen One.  Please do not be shy.  Regale me of the novel you are writing, the story I have foreseen that will inspire all humans to demand a higher level of storytelling from Earth’s entertainment industry, thus shutting down the reality television menace once and for all.”

“It’s uh…it’s going good Potentate.  Really good.”

“Elaborate.”

“What?”

“ELABORATE!!!!”

Damn that guy was shouty.

“It’s the most badass novel ever.  It’s got mystery, action, suspense, drama….”

The Mighty Potentate listened intently.

“…twists and turns, hot naked chicks, explosions, daredevil stunts, wars, fires, pestilence, plagues…”

“Go on.”

“Oh and there’s a big car chase and the hero of the novel has these uh….uh….”

I noticed Bernie’s 9MM poking out of his bug out bag.

“The hero has gun hands.”

“Gun hands?”  the Potentate inquired.

“Yes,”  I replied.  “‘Johnny Gun Hands’ is his name.  The Mafia cut off his damn hands and left him for dead but he didn’t die so he replaces his hands with guns, shoots all of his enemies and then he uncovers a conspiracy in which umm…umm…yes!  I’ve got it.  He uncovers a conspiracy in which a group of furries, you know, those weirdoes who dress up in plush animal costumes and have sex with each other, are importing knock-off designer handbags out of Kuala Lumpur.”

The Mighty Potentate tapped a finger on his jaw as I ranted away.

“And so, the bad guys kidnap the only woman Johnny ever loved, so he breaks into their secret lair and BLAM BLAM BLAM Johnny massacres every last one of those furries with his gun hands and the ending…oh my God the ending.  Johnny and his woman walk into the sunset and they want to get married but they can’t because, holy shit, Johnny has guns for hands so you know, it’s not like they can do it or anything because it would be way too dangerous.”

I took a moment to breathe.  Everyone in the room was fixated on me now.

“So Johnny walks off all alone and he’s depressed and he sticks his gun hands up to his temples and is about to end it all but NO!  You know what he does?”

“What?”  Bernie asked, transfixed on the story.  “What does he do, yo?”

“Johnny sets up a center to take care of other people who are also afflicted with having guns for hands and he finds a sense of peace and inner happiness from being able to help others suffering from the same problem he has and he lives to a ripe old age, fully content with the life he lived.”

We all remained silent, waiting for the Mighty Potentate to say something.

“That sounds like…”

He stopped, removed his crown, scratched his head, then continued.

“…THE BEST F%&KING IDEA FOR A NOVEL I’VE EVER HEARD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!”

Alien Jones gasped a sigh of relief.

“Thanks Potentate,”  I said.  “Can I ask you something?  Are you sure I’m the Chosen One?”

“Of course,”  the Mighty Potentate said.  “I have foreseen it.  My predictions are never wrong.”

“Well,”  I said as I wrapped my arm around Alien Jones, “For what it’s worth, this guy is a real credit to your organization.”

“Who? Jones?”

“Yes,”  I said.  “His column is an asset to the Bookshelf Battle Blog.  Sometimes his words drive my stats as high as 7.5 readers.”

“Astonishing,”  the Mighty Potentate said.  “Though you are aware you’ll need to write a bestseller to avoid world domination, yes?”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Splendid!”  the Mighty Potentate said.  “Good luck with the zombie apocalypse.  I expect the Chosen One to remain alive, Alien Jones and Chosen One?”

“Yes?”

“I expect to see a rough draft of Johnny Gun hands by the end of the year.  POTENTATE OUT!”

The hologram shut off.

Alien Jones hopped up onto the desk, grabbed my shoulders and yelled, “What have you done?!”

“What did you want me to do?  Tell him the truth?  That everyday I come home from work, try to write a novel, give up after three words and watch The Walking Dead in my underpants with a bowl full of Cheetos?”

“Lying to the Mighty Potentate always makes things worse,”  Alien Jones said.  “Do you realize you’ll actually have to write a Johnny Gunhands novel now?”

“Yes,”  I said.  “And I know just who to call to ask for some writing tips.”

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 9

At the entrance to Price Town, Alien Jones assembled a massive pile of laptops (ten percent off because Price Town has the best prices in town!), tablets, and game consoles, all hooked together with cables. Somehow, he connected that mess to one giant battery he formed by connecting thousands of smaller batteries together, and then attached everything to a dehumidifier which was, in turn, rigged up to a leaf blower.

“Switching from suck to blow now,” Alien Jones said, inadvertently paying homage to Spaceballs.  “Does everyone have their Sarah Lyons Fleming approved bug-out bags?”

“Affirmative,” VGRF replied. “And remember, if you see a zombie like Jaime Johnesee’s ‘Bob,’ don’t shoot him.”

“That’s quite a contraption, AJ,”  I said.  “But what did you need the troll doll for?”

Alien Jones held up the tiny little plastic guy I’d found for him.  It had a tuft of blue hair popping out of its head.

“I just think they’re adorable,”  the Esteemed Brainy One said.

“OK then,”  I said.

“Is everyone ready?” Alien Jones asked.

“One more thing,” I said.

I walked to the clothing section, grabbed a mannequin, tucked it under my arm, and rejoined the crew.

I never go anywhere in a zombie apocalypse without a decoy human.

I never go anywhere in a zombie apocalypse without a decoy human.

“Why are you bringing a dummy?”

“Insert joke about Bernie here,” I said.

Bernie was too busy admiring his duel 9mm automatics. (Conveniently located next to the toy aisle, come on down to Price Town!)

“This isn’t just a dummy,” I said. “It is a…decoy human.”

“What?”

“My sweet Video Game Rack Fighter,” I said. “Earlier this year, my life was saved thanks to the wisdom of one of the wisest sages in the self-publishing game.”

“Not the decoy wallet story again,” VGRF said.

“The decoy wallet story indeed!”

I put the dummy down, then pulled one leather bound wallet out of my jacket pocket and a second velcro wallet out of my pants pocket.

“This wallet,” I said as I held up the wallet in my left hand, “Holds my driver’s license, credit cards, and money. To be relieved of it from the likes of a common street hoodlum would be an arduous ordeal for certain.”

“All you have to do is call up the credit card company and have them cancel your old card,” VGRF said.

“This wallet,” I continued, ignoring my girlfriend’s protestations while holding up the wallet in my right hand, “is a distraction. NAY! An illusion. A decoy!”

“I’m sorry I asked,”  VGRF said.

“It contains one expired credit card, exactly three dollars, no more, no less, and a punch eleven and get your twelfth sub free at Sub Shack coupon.”

“How many punches?” VGRF asked.

“Ten. Come to think of it, I’ll be damned if some degenerate mugger is going to walk away with my free sub.”

I switched the sub punch card to the real wallet.

“A few months ago, as I was strolling down the street, a villainous desperado jumped out of an alleyway and demanded I turn over my wallet. Turn it over I did, yet little did he know I turned over a decoy. I walked away safe and sound and did not have to spend an hour on the phone waiting for an operator  to replace my cards.”

“So if your decoy wallet was stolen, then what is that?” VGRF asked. “A decoy, decoy wallet?”

“No,” I replied.  “A REPLACEMENT decoy wallet.”

“What if the mugger gets mad that you only have three dollars and blows your head off?” VGRF asked.

I pondered that question for a moment.  Failing to think of an answer, I chose to ignore it.

“Moving on,” I said as I picked up the mannequin. “This is a decoy human. If the zombies corner us, I can fling it in the opposite direction. They’ll go after it and by the time they wise up we’ll be long gone.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” VGRF said.

“No,” I said. “The decoy wallet is a brilliant invention brought to us from Dave, the wisest of all the self-publishing sages.  Dave is truly a gift from the creator, sent here to Earth to share his wisdom and advice on decoy wallets, book covers, and the lousy service at Olive Garden.”

“Oh right,” VGRF said. “Johnny, Sean and Dave of the Self-Publishing Podcast. You love those guys. Why don’t you call Dave? He co-authored a zombie book series.

“What?” I asked. “VGRF, please. As if a renowned celebrity/decoy wallet enthusiast of such a high stature would ever, EVER take a call from a peon like me. I love you baby but come on. Get your head out of your ass.”

“Whatever,” VGRF said. “Just a thought. Let’s roll, Alien Jones.”

This post dedicated to Self-Publishing Podcasters and All Around Awesome Dudes Johnny, Sean, and Dave, noted zombie writer and decoy wallet enthusiast.

This post dedicated to Self-Publishing Podcasters and All Around Awesome Dudes Johnny, Sean, and Dave, noted zombie writer and decoy wallet enthusiast.

The little guy yanked the cord on the leaf blower and started his device up.

“Remember,” he said. “This is a primitive recreation of a vaporization cannon, so it will only be capable of firing one shot. After that, we’re on our own.”

“Got it,” I said.

“Open the gate on 1,” my intergalactic colleague commanded.

AJ had set his space phone up so all I had to do was hit a button to make the security gate open. The Esteemed Brainy One was able to hack just about any electronic device with that thing.

“3…2…1!”

I hit the button. Slowly, the gate rose. The zombies, who’d been standing there for over a week, just biding their time, yearning for a chance to tear into our flesh, stampeded toward us like a herd of wild buffalo.

Alien Jones pulled the trigger and a bolt of blue light reduced over a hundred zombies into nothingness. Their particles simply floated away.

We walked into the mall’s main thoroughfare. It was dark and we weren’t able to see anything. I shined my flashlight and was able to see a group of zombies gathered around a waterfall in the center. They were too busy bumping into each other to notice us, but that would surely change.

The waterfall had stopped flowing days earlier and had become just a mere tepid pool of water.

“Turn out the light,” Alien Jones said. “It attracts them.”

I did as instructed.

“Take my hands, humans,” Alien Jones said. “I can see in the dark.”

VGRF and I each grabbed an alien hand. Bernie, the odd man out, grabbed hold of my backpack strap.

The Esteemed Brainy One led the way. I could hear the zombie gurgles and groans grow louder.

“Are we there yet?” Bernie asked.

“No,” AJ answered

“How ’bout now?”

“Silence human.”

I could hear footsteps moving towards us.

“Humans?” Alien Jones asked.

“Yes?”

AJ let go out our hands, outstretched his, and made another force field bubble, misting all oncoming undead.

“RUN!”

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