Tag Archives: zombie apocalypse

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

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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 2)

“Grab the gear,”  Alien Jones said.  “We’re leaving.”

“Out there?  With those things?”  Blandie asked.  “No way!”

“You heard the human military leader,”  Alien Jones said.  “By tomorrow morning, this entire structure will be a pile of charred ash.  We can’t stay here.”

I picked up my bug out bag.  VGRF and Bernie did the same.

“What’s the plan, Esteemed Brainy One?” I asked.

The Compensator - when only a vehicle capable of depleting the oil reserves of a third world country will do.

The Compensator – when only a vehicle capable of depleting the oil reserves of a third world country will do.

“I sense there is a brand new, fully loaded Compensator Sports Utility Vehicle illegally parked across two handicapped parking spaces outside the nearby entrance.  It was formerly owned by what you humans would refer to as a ‘One Percenter Douche Bag.’  We will make our way to it, hit the open road, and improvise a further plan from there.”

“Can I have a gun?”  Blandie asked.

“You’ll shoot your foot off,”  I said.

“You let HIM have a gun,” Blandie said, pointing to Bernie.

“Good point,”  I said.

I pulled a spare pistol out of my waistband and handed it to her.  She handled it rather clumsily.

“So how do you take the safety off?  Is it just this little…”

BAM!

Blandie fired a shot right into the roof.

“Gimme that!”  I said as I took the piece back.  I searched around for a blunt instrument and handed her a trophy that read, ‘Blandie Settler:  Hipster Hutt Manager of the Year.’”

“You were manager of the year?”  I asked.

“Yeah,”  Blandie said.  “So?  What?  I can do stuff good!”

I opened the door.  That dumb, confused zombie was still bumping into the corner.  He was harmless, so I left him alone.

“I need new duds,”  my alien buddy said.

Hipster Alien

Hipster Alien

Alien Jones picked out some hipster wear – a white bucket hat, plaid cargo pants, a muscle shirt and oversized sunglasses.

“What planet are you from?”  Blandie asked.

“Oh, it doesn’t really matter,”  Alien Jones said as he adjusted his sunglasses.  “I doubt you’ve ever heard of it anyway.”

The little green guy punched a button on the space phone and the security gate lifted.  A throng of zombies poured in but were instantly vaporized when our tiny protector threw up his force field bubble.

“We only have five minutes,”  I explained to Blandie as we ran out of the store. “And whatever you do, DO NOT TOUCH THE BUBBLE!”

Away we went, turning multiple bloodthirsty, brain hungry zombies into mist clouds until we hit the parking lot.  Alien Jones’ bubble began to flicker.

“There’s the douche-mobile!”  I shouted.

Alien Jones punched a button on his phone and the Compensator’s engine started and the doors unlocked.

“VGRF,”  I shouted.  “Take the wheel!”

The bubble passed out and so did my alien friend.  I scooped him up into the back seat then took the front passenger’s seat.  Blandie and Bernie got in the back.

The parking lot was quiet but as soon as VGRF backed the SUV up, zombie heads turned and they all converged on the vehicle.

“BQB you pussy!”  Blandie shouted.  “You’d let a girl drive?!”

I turned around to face Blandie.

“She’s not just any girl.  She’s the Goddamned Number One International Car Thief Mayhem Champion Ten Years in a row.”

I looked at VGRF.

“You got this baby.  Punch it!”

The Highest Ranking Car Thief Mayhem Champion in the World

The Highest Ranking Car Thief Mayhem Champion in the World

VGRF took off like she was in a stolen car, not just because she was, but because her nimble fingers had played out this scenario on her gaming console millions of times before.  She smashed through piles of the undead like they were nothing.  Blood and guts sprayed all over the window and she didn’t even flinch.  She just sprayed the cleaning fluid and ran the wipers.

She banged a right out of the lot and floored it down the mall access road.  Zombies chased along side the SUV, banging on the sides.  She swerved right and left, taking them all out.

Full steam ahead, VGRF sailed the big truck at 80 MPH down the road until she came across a gaggle of beasts blocking the way forward.  Too thick to slam through, she improvised.

“HANG ON!”  my sweetie yelled.

With expert precision, VGRF yanked the emergency hand brake up, swerved out and just barely missed the horde car as she took a right and headed down Main Street.

To our left was a steep hill.  More zombies ran down it and flanked the left side of the car.

VGRF rolled her window down and pulled a handgun out of her jacket pocket.  She shouted, “BREAK YOSELF, FOOL!” then took them all out.

“BQB?”

“Yeah Bernie?”

“I don’t wanna be rude but your old lady is givin’ me a mad chub right now, B.”

“Me too, Bernie.  Me too.”

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 12 (Part 1)

“What are you up to Alien Jones?”  I asked.

“Consulting the human news reports,”  Alien Jones said as he surfed his space phone.

“Aww sweet,”  Bernie said as he cupped his hands and held them out from his chest, performing his best imitation of a stacked woman.  “Put on the channel that has that hot ass blonde chick with big titties!”

“Which one?”  Alien Jones asked.  “All human news outlets appear to require nothing of their reporters other than an attractive face and a copious bosom region.”

“Just pick one,”  I said.

Alien Jones pushed a button and put a news channel up on a holographic display so we could all watch it.  A television sized squared hovered in the middle of the room.

On it?  A female reporter, just as Bernie described.

Boo! Worst angle ever!

Boo! Worst angle ever!

“Hello.  I’m a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties reporting live from West Randomtown.”

“Wow,”  VGRF said.  “It’s like they don’t even TRY to hide it anymore.”

“…where the military has established a forward operating base to respond to the zombie apocalypse in East Randomtown.”

The screen switched to the news room.  Walking, talking Ken doll Kurt Manley sat behind the Network News One desk, shuffling some papers to give the appearance that he was doing something important.

“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  Kurt said.  “I see General Morganstern is with you.  What’s his assessment of the situation?  Just how dire are things in East Randomtown?”

General Thomas Morganstern

General Thomas Morganstern

The reporter held her mic under the face of the grizzly, war weary General Thomas Morganstern.  I recognized his gravelly voice from a number of war related news reports over the years.  He wore a finely starched uniform that was lousy with medals.

“Make no mistake about it, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  General Morganstern said.  “East Randomtown is filled to the brim with hideous, flesh eating monsters who’d rip your larynx out and swallow it whole as soon as look at you.”

“That sounds horrible,” the reporter interjected.

“It certainly does,”  General Morganstern continued.  “However, what your viewers need to be aware of, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, is that the U.S. Army is here to keep the situation under control.  We’ve surrounded East Randomtown with our best and bravest, who are on standby to eradicate any zombie who dares attempt to shuffle over the town line.  Moreover, a series of coordinated air strikes are scheduled to begin bright and early tomorrow morning.”

“What’s the first target, General?”  the reporter asked.

“Well, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  the General said.  “Surely, you understand that normally I would not advertise over the public airwaves where we intend to hit the enemy.  However, since we’re only dealing with a bunch of dumbass zombies here, I can tell you the first strike will be on ground zero of the zombie apocalypse, the East Randomtown Mall.”

We all let out a collective gasp.  One of us emitted a panicked fart.  I swear it wasn’t me.  It probably wasn’t Alien Jones either as he doesn’t have a butt.  My guess is it was Bernie though I never did get closure on that one.

Back to the newsroom.

Kurt Manley, Network News One Anchor

Kurt Manley, Network News One Anchor

“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties…”

“Yes, Kurt?”

“What about collateral damage?”  the anchorman asked.  “Surely there must be a few survivors left within the East Randomtown limits.”

Back to the base.

“Have you taken potential survivors into account, General?”  the reporter asked.

“Indeed we have, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  General Morgenstern replied.  “The public should rest assured that through a carefully conducted campaign of drone surveillance, we have concluded beyond a shadow of a doubt that there are no more human beings left alive in East Randomtown.  Every last resident is either dead or has been turned into a hideous zombie.  Once we’ve softened up key positions through a series of bombing runs, our units will move in and clean the rest up.”

A bunch of forty-something ladies wearing pink bedazzled cat sweatshirts and blue denim sweatpants marched onto the scene, waving picket signs and shouting, “Save the Funky Hunks!  Save the Funky Hunks!”

Bernie was beside himself.

“People still love us!”  Bernie shouted.  “I knew it!”

“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  Kurt said.  “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Kurt,”  the reporter said.  “I’m going in to investigate.”

The reporter pulled aside one of the protestors.

“Excuse me, ma’am.  I’m a Hot Blonde Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties reporting for Network News One…”

“Oh yah!”  the lady responded with a thick North Dakotan accent, “I love the Network News One, dontcha know?”

“May I have your name?”

“I’m Mrs. Mary Flunderson of Bismarck and my friends and I represent the North Dakota Funky Hunks Fan Club.”

Marge Flunderson, Funky Hunks Superfan

Marge Flunderson, Funky Hunks Superfan

“The Funky Hunks?”  the reporter asked.

“Oh yah,”  Mary said.  “They were a real nice, polite duo of boys from the late 90’s and early 2000’s who rapped about wholesome topics like looking both ways before crossing the street and asking a girl for permission before you give her the old smooch-a-roo.”

“I don’t understand,”  the reporter said.  “What do they have to do anything?”

Mary pointed to her picket sign.  It had pictures of Bernie and I from back in the day, decked out in our rap gear, backwards hats and all.

Funky Hunks represent.

Funky Hunks represent.

“The Funky Hunks used to go by the names ‘Read N. Plenty’ and ‘MC Plotz’ but they’re really Bookshelf Q. Battler and Bernie Plotznick.  They’re both residents of East Randomtown and as soon as we heard about the zombie apocalypse, we drove all the way here to hold a candlelight vigil for those wonderful boys.”

“Does she realize you guys are just a tad younger than she is?”  VGRF asked.

“Hold on,”  I replied.  “Hear the woman out.”

“Our mothers loved the Funky Hunks and now we do too, thanks to streaming media, dontcha know?”

“Have you been getting residuals?”  I asked Bernie.

“Yeah,”  he said.  “The studio sends me a ten dollar check every year.”

“Where’s my check?”

“It’s uh…supposed to be for the both of us,”  Bernie said, sinking his head down.  “Sorry yo.”

“Oh,”  I said.  “That’s ok.  Keep it.  You need it.”

“The Army cannot blow up the East Randomtown mall,”  Mary said.  “BQB and Bernie are there right now!”

“How do you know this?”  the reporter asked.

“Have you ever read the Bookshelf Battle Blog, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties?”  Mary asked.

“No,”  the reporter answered.  “Is that even a real thing?”

“Yes,”  Mary said.  “It’s a blog with 3.5 readers operated by Mr. Battler.  He’s been keeping a zombie apocalypse survivor’s journal from day one.”

“I have noticed a slight uptick in readers lately,”  I said.  “It must be Mary and her buddies!”

Kurt put a concerned look on his face and intervened.

“Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties.”

“Kurt?”

“I’m told our in-studio technician is working to confirm the existence of this so-called ‘Bookshelf Battle Blog’ but in the meantime, what is General Morganstern’s reaction?”

“General Morganstern,”  the reporter said.  “In light of this claim that two former rappers are alive and inside the East Randomtown Mall, will you cancel tomorrow’s airstrike?”

“Absolutely not, Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  the General said.  “These forty-something year old ladies in blue denim stretch pants are mistaken.  We’ve researched the matter thoroughly.  Everyone in East Randomtown is either dead or a zombie.”

The military man raised his hands.

“Please disperse ladies!  There is nothing to see here!  Leave now or you will be arrested!”

Army dudes marched in and cleared the ladies out.

“Reporting live for Network News One, I’m a Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties, signing off.”

Back to the newsroom.

“Thank you Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties,”  Kurt said.  “Next up, is your breakfast cereal trying to strangle you in your sleep?  Another Hot Ass Blonde Chick with Big Titties will give you the answer after this word from our sponsor…”

“Alien Jones,”  I said.  “Can you put up my blog stats?”

AJ punched a button and the Bookshelf Battle Blog stats were on screen.

“Whoa!”  I said.  “One million…two million…three million…THREE POINT FIVE MILLION AND….back to 3.5.  Everyone’s back to officially not giving a shit.”

“Better to have had readers and lost than to have never had readers at all,”  Alien Jones said.  “But I believe we have bigger problems.”

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

RachelAukes_tightheadshot(large) copy

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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?

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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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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 11

“I am the way into the city of woe,
I am the way into eternal pain,
I am the way to go among the lost.

Justice caused my high architect to move,
Divine omnipotence created me,
The highest wisdom, and the primal love.

Before me there were no created things
But those that last forever—as do I.
Abandon all hope you who enter here.”

-Dante’s Inferno

I felt like I was in the seventh circle of hell.

Typical Blandie

Typical Blandie

“You’re so useless, BQB,” whined my ex-girlfriend, Blandie.  “A real man would have rescued me already.  A real man would have swooped me up in his arms and whisked me back to his house for drinks by now.”.

“Maybe you should call Troy,”  I said.  “Or Channing.  Or Lance.  Or one of those perfectly coiffed hair muscle bound douches you assured me you weren’t sleeping with behind my back even though you totally were!”

“Oh whatever,”  Blandie said.  “A real man wouldn’t have his head stuck in the past.”

“Call the Mighty Potentate,”  I said to Alien Jones.  “I want him to vaporize me and put me out of my misery.”

“He won’t do that,”  my alien buddy replied.  “He believes in you too much, though personally, I wonder if he might have jumbled his prophecy.  Not that I’d ever tell him.”

“Why do you keep writing on that stupid blog of yours, anyway?”  Blandie asked.  “Writing.  Please.  Lame.  I mean, ‘Hello?’  It’s the twenty-first century!  No one reads anymore!  Get your head out of the clouds!  Duh!”

Bernie was fast asleep.  VGRF distracted herself from Blandie’s blatherings with Alien Jones’ space phone, playing a rousing game of Car Thief Mayhem: Mobile Edition.

Can't get enough of that Car Thief Mayhem

Can’t get enough of that Car Thief Mayhem

“When are you ever going to stop being a nerd and grow up, BQB?”  Blandie asked.

“You know what?”  I asked.  “No.  Forget it.  It’s not even worth it to tell you off.”

“Oh whatever,”  Blandie said.  “Like I care.”

“People are different, Blandie,”  I said.  “I act like a nerd because I AM a nerd.   You made me feel like shit for years, that there was something wrong with me…”

I put my arm around VGRF and snuggled her close to me.  Her eyes remained fixated on her video game.

“…it wasn’t until I met this goddess that I realized it was ok to be me, that there’s nothing wrong with being a nerd.   I am nerd, hear me roar, in numbers too big too ignore.”

“Aw sweet!”  VGRF said.  “I just ran over a crack dealer and stole all his money!”

Blandie blew a raspberry, making a big “PBBBHHHT!” sound.

“Whatever.”

Blandie was a big fan of the word, “whatever.”

“You’re a nobody, BQB,”  Blandie said.  “You think you’re somebody but you’re not.  The whole time we were together, you were just this big geek who played with action figures and read comic books and wrote boring stories and wore dorky glasses and….and….”

Blandie’s eyes welled up and tears poured out.

“BQB, the human is leaking,”  Alien Jones said.

VGRF paused her game.

Bernie snored.  He could sleep through anything.

“…and you were always THERE FOR ME!!!”

Blandie broke out into full weeping mode and threw herself at me, blubbering incessantly as she forced her words out between sobs.

“You never cheated on me like Troy did and you didn’t steal my life’s savings and run off with my sister like Channing did and I don’t even want to tell you what Lance did…”

“Um,”  I said as I timidly patted Blandie on the head.  “There there?”

“I’m going to die alone in the zombie apocalypse and my last thoughts are going to be about how I gave up the only man who ever truly loved me and that he’ll never take me back now because he’s in love with a girl who buys all of her clothes from the dollar store!”

“This is all JC Penney, bitch!”  VGRF said.

Blandie snorted and cried some more until she passed out and fell asleep.  Gently, I rested her head down onto one of the bug out bags, letting her use it as a pillow.

“I’m the man,”  I said.

“What?”  VGRF asked.

“I’ve found the love of my life in you, plus the girl who broke my heart is beside herself in agony over losing me.”

“Please,”  VGRF said.  “That’s just the zombie apocalypse talking.  When she wakes up, she’ll go back to chewing you out again.”

“True,”  I said.  “Being locked in this small room with her is like being trapped in…”

“Hell?”  Alien Jones asked.  “As described by the human writer, Dante?”

“Exactly,”  I said as I picked up the space phone.  “Come to think of it, I know an author who could shed some light on this.”

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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

perrin briar

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

ArmandDrawing

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.

jm

Tuesday, October 13 – Michael Cairns

Michael Cairns headshot High Res copy

This year, Michael’s a man on a mission.  The Thirteen Roses author began 2015 with a challenge to publish 15 books (including works he’s written previously.)  He’s been keeping a daily video log of his progress and will talk to BQB about how its going.   

Wednesday, October 14 – Kate L. Mary 

klm

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

jl

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

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

ArmandDrawing

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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#31ZombieAuthors – Day 9 Interview – Devan Sagliani – Bringing Zombies to the Big Screen And Your E-Reader

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FIND THIS ZOMBIE AUTHOR ON:

Amazon        Website

  Facebook       Twitter

By: Special Guest Interviewer Video Game Rack Fighter 

Zombie movie buffs rejoice because today’s guest is none other than Devan Sagliani, author of the original screenplay for the movie HVZ: Humans Versus Zombies, a satirical thriller flick based on the live action role playing game of the same name. As if that weren’t enough, he also penned the Zombie Attack! series, The Undead L.A. series, The Rising Dead, A Thirst for Fire, and most recently Saint Death. Don’t forget to check out Escapist Magazine for his bimonthly horror column, Dark Dreams.

NOTE:  BOLD=VGRF; ITALICS=Devan

Thanks for taking my call, Devan. Bookshelf Q. Battler would have called but he’s too busy arguing with his ex-girlfriend, which leads me to my first question:

Q.   Is it possible for a group of zombie apocalypse survivors to make it when they’re at each others’ throats? I think we’ll work it out so don’t worry about us, but generally speaking, if you had to give a pep talk to a bunch of survivors to convince them to drop their petty differences and focus on staying alive, what would you say?

A.   I’m more of a loner than a leader these days, but if it the role were forced on me I’d probably remind them that no one makes it in this world on their own, that we all work better as a team, and that if we stick together we can not only survive this nightmare but also create a better future for all of us in the process.

Q.  You wrote a screenplay for a zombie movie. What was that experience like? Can you describe it for BQB’s 3.5 readers?

A.   The movie was based off of the live action role playing game Humans Vs. Zombies, or HVZ. I’d had an idea for a zombie movie in mind when I got the call from a director I’d worked with before and the timing was just right. There is a downside to working in Hollywood, which is ultimately the lack of creative control you get as a writer. That’s why I decided to make the jump to writing novels, so I could make all the decisions and know they wouldn’t get changed at the last minute without my knowledge or consent. After all, when your name is on something you want to be able to be proud of how it turned out and not feel like anything was compromised.

Q.   In Undead L.A., one might argue that the City of Los Angeles is almost a character itself. From a pilot hijacking a plane from LAX in order to flee the insanity to a detective on the trail of a case that begins in West Hollywood, you provide a great deal of detail about the city. How were you able to make L.A. leap off the page?

A.   I think the best answer is simply that I love this city with all of my heart. I was born and raised here in Los Angeles and at this point I don’t want to live anywhere else. Los Angeles will always be my home. I feel like sometimes the city gets a bad rap from all the people who come here looking to create a better life for themselves in the entertainment industry or make it in Hollywood. I wanted to show off just how amazing and diverse this sprawling metropolis really is. I think too that people who have visited L.A. or lived here for a while before returning to where they are from can enjoy reading about the characters moving through the same streets they remember, seeing all the landmarks, and eating at places they ate at while they were here. I know I always enjoy that when I read Michael Connelly’s books.

Q.   In Book Two of the Zombie Attack! series, your protagonist, Xander, is put in charge of a survivor colony. With the help of his wife, Felicity Jane, the couple deals with reconstruction efforts, constant zombie attacks, and a bloodthirsty group of cannibals. That last part brings a question to my mind – who’s more dangerous in a zombie apocalypse? Zombies, or the humans who take advantage of the chaos that zombies create?

A.   In the Zombie Attack series the zombies themselves mostly just move the action along as Xander does his best to deal with a host of perilous issues that now exist in the post Z-Day world. Zombies are absolutely dangerous, no question about it, but many humans are far worse than the biters because of the deliberate evil they act on in the absence of established law and order. I feel confident that this is how things would devolve in the event of any major crisis or apocalypse. One group of people would work to uphold the common good while the rest would fight over what they could get and set up their own territories like warlords. Let’s just hope we never have to find out!

Q.   At least 2 of BQB’s 3.5 readers are wannabe writers. What advice do you have for someone getting started in the writing game?

A.   First I’d recommend that they read ON WRITING by Stephen King. That book changed my life and got me writing novels. Then I’d suggest that they give themselves time to grow and don’t be impatient to get stuff out there before it is ready. Take your time to learn your craft and develop your own voice. Last but not least I would tell them not to sign any publishing deals until they know exactly what they are getting themselves into. These days there are a lot of small press publishers who will promise the sun, the moon, and the stars to get new talent but can’t offer much more than the writer could do on their own with a Facebook and Twitter account.

Q.   Thanks for your help, Devan. Before I hang up, do you have any last words of wisdom to help my friends and I survive the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse?

A.   Make sure you can lock down one area for you and your loved ones, that it is secure from the living and the dead, and then stock it up with as much clean water as you can get your hands on. That’s going to be a huge issue during the zombie apocalypse. Then go for the canned goods next and nonperishables. Then it’s all about medicine, fuel, and weapons after that. Aim for the head and don’t stop until they are dead! Good luck!

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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 9 (Part 2)

There’s something about being chased by ravenous creatures of the damned that puts your body into overdrive. Adrenaline takes control and gives you that extra oomph you need, at least it did for me.

Zombie after zombie crashed into Alien Jones’ protective bubble, getting instantly vaporized.

East Randomtown was a small community where everyone knew each other, and I recognized many of the zombies that the Esteemed Brainy One was plowing through.

There was Edna, the lady who ran the beauty parlor and Sid the the old man who wandered around collecting tin cans to take back to the recycling center. I’d recognize his ‘stache anywhere, even on a zombie lip.

There was another zombie wearing track shorts and a whistle around his neck. That had to have been my old high school gym teacher, Mr. Culpepper. Sure, that guy was a dick, but I never wanted him to become zombified and then vaporized by an alien force field either.

Alien Jones was running as fast as his little green legs could carry him when suddenly, he slipped on an errant banana peel, careened face first into the floor, and dropped the force field.

We were screwed.

VGRF, Bernie and I huddled together, taking as many shots as we could as the beasts circled around us. It was pitch black but we could see the monsters’ yellow eyes drawing near and smell the fetid stench of their breath.

Seriously. Those undead dudes needed a mint.

“This is it,” VGRF said.

“Not yet, baby,” I said.

I turned around, hoisted the dummy, aka, the decoy human over my head and threw it as far as I could.

“Go get it, zombies!”

Have you ever thrown a milk bone across the room only to watch your dog trip over itself to get it? It was just like that. The zombies abandoned us completely.

Stupid zombies.

            Stupid zombies.

I found Alien Jones and helped him up.  Out came the force field bubble and we were back in action, running until we reached the end of the mall.

“This is it!” Alien Jones shouted.

I looked up and shined my flashlight.

The sign read “Hipster Hut.”

Hipster Hut was a small boutique store catering in the latest “I work extra hard to look look like I don’t care what you think about me when secretly I really do” fashions.

Their motto?  “Is there a store that’s better at bringing you the latest hip fashions than Hipster Hut?  Sure, but we doubt you’ve heard of it.”

Welcome to Hipster Hut.  Are you sure you belong here?  We're pretty exclusive.

Welcome to Hipster Hut. Are you sure you belong here? We’re pretty exclusive.

The store was empty, sans one zombie who kept walking into the corner, bumping his head on the wall over and over again.

Bernie raised his 9MM to take him out but VGRF put her hand on his.

“No,”  I said.  “He’s not a bad zombie.   He’s just stupid.”

“Gotcha,”  Bernie replied.

Alien Jones took the space phone from me, hit a button, and the store’s security gate closed.  A torrent of zombies crashed against it.

I knocked on the door to the back office.

An angry female voice yelled, “Go away!”

“Blandie? It’s me! Bookshelf Q. Battler!”

“Oh. It’s about time!”

Blandie - known for ripping BQB a new one early and often.

Blandie – known for ripping BQB a new one early and often.

The lock clicked, the door opened and out popped my ex-girlfriend, the voluptuously hot yet soul crushingly mean Bland Life “Blandie” Settler.

Yeah, I know like it seems as though I’m trying to make a point with that name, but I didn’t give it to her. You can check her license.

“Why did you bring nerds?”  Blandie asked, pointing to my posse.

“They’re my friends,” I said. “You remember Bernie.”

“Yo.”

“And this is my girlfriend, Video Game Rack Fighter.”

“Blech,” Blandie said. “A snow hat? You might as well just wear a sign that says, ‘I’m a lesbian.’”

“You were right,” VGRF said to me. “We should have left her here.”

Alien Jones stretched out his hand.

“Ms. Settler, I’m Alien Jones, Emissary of the Mighty Potentate, it is nice to meet…”

Blandie screeched like a howler monkey, kicked AJ in the face and punted him across the room.

“What are you doing?!”  I shouted.

I ran over to check on AJ. He was out cold. I scooped his listless little body up in my arms.

The Esteemed Ouchie One

The Esteemed Ouchie One

“What the f$%k is that thing?!” Blandie asked. “Is it a mutant zombie?”

“He’s an intergalactic adventurer and thus far, he’s been the brains of our operation, saving our asses at every turn, and you just put him into a damn coma!!!”

“Well I didn’t know,” Blandie said. “You think you’d give me a warning. ‘Hey. I have an alien with me.’ Is that too much to ask?”

“You’re right,” I said. “You’re ALWAYS right aren’t you? Everything I do is totally wrong and EVERYTHING you do is perfect isn’t it?”

“Oh here we go with your crybaby routine,” Blandie said. ‘Waah waah waah, I’m Bookshelf Q. Battler and I have a tiny…’”

“Awk-ward,” Bernie said.

I walked into the backroom and laid Alien Jones across Blandie’s desk. The group followed. Blandie shut the door and locked it behind us.

“So what’s the plan now?” Bland asked.

“I don’t know. You just auditioned for the Rockettes on my planner’s face.”

“Are you still on that? Typical BQB, always living in the past.”

“Typical Blandie. Never able to apologize for anything.”

I overheard VGRF whisper to Bernie.

“Wow. Did they always fight like this?”

“Y’all don’t even know the half of it, boo.”

Video Game Rack Fighter grabbed the space phone.

“I better call someone.”

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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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