Tag Archives: zombies

BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 14 (Part 1)

October 14, 2015 – 12:00 A.M.

Night fell and we were back in the Compensator, heading west through the Great Random Forest, a tract of undeveloped land where the trees grew tall and other than the squirrels, there wasn’t much of anyone to keep a guy company.

“What’s that?”  I asked, pointing to a plywood sign.

Scrawled on it with black spray paint were the words:

Sanctuary for the Worthy

Head Ye Who Would Dare to Fort Hauser

(Formerly Known as the East Randomtown Park and Rec Center)

“Fort Hauser?”  VGRF asked.

“Hauser,”  I said.  “Doug Hauser!”

Doug Hauser - BQB's rival for the title of East Randomtown's Most Famous Citizen

Doug Hauser – BQB’s rival for the title of East Randomtown’s Most Famous Citizen

“The guy who was an extra for thirty seconds in one episode of Miami Vice in 1985?”  VGRF asked.  “The guy you beat for the title of most famous East Randomtown resident when you obtained 3.5 readers for the Bookshelf Battle Blog?”

“The same,”  I replied.  “He must have started a survivor colony.”

East Randomtown Park was a family favorite.  Picnics, concerts, sports, you name it.  It had a walking trail, a beautiful pond, tennis courts, I could go on and on.  It was one of the few locations the town had going for it.  At the Westernmost point of the tract of land was a rec center with a basketball court and a gym, not to mention an indoor track and swimming pool.

“Something doesn’t smell right,”  VGRF said.

“I’m sorry,”  Bernie said.  “That was me, yo.”

Blandie gagged.  “Oh my God!  I need air!”

“That’s not a good idea,”  VGRF said.

“It’s not a good idea to die of asphyxiation either,”  Blandie said as she rolled down her window.

Alien Jones, who was sitting between my ex and my friend, chimed in.

“I must concur with the blonde human.  The stench is quite potent.  Fairly close in molecular composition to the gas banned for warfare purposes by Intergalactic Space Law.”

“I wasn’t talking about that anyway,”  VGRF said.  “This guy just puts out signs inviting people to seek his help because…why?  The kindness of his heart?  I’m sorry but throwing in with him would be a terrible idea.”

“A zombie apocalypse can bring out the worst in people,”  I said.  “Or the best. Maybe this is Hauser at his best?”

“Your mate is astute, BQB,”  Alien Jones said.  “I sense this is the worst.”

“That’s just an old zombie apocalypse trope,”  I said.  “The old ‘invite people to a camp under the guise of charity then rob and/or murder and/or eat them’ routine.  This isn’t a book or a TV show.  This is real life.  We should check it out.”

“Aren’t you’re the last person Hauser wants to see?”  VGRF asked.  “Seeing as how Mayor Bramble was planning to have Hauser’s statue torn down and replaced with a sculpture of you?”

“I never wanted that,”  I said.  “I’m sure Hauser knows that.  Head to the park, babe.  There’s safety in numbers.  Morganstern can’t kill everyone.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,”  Alien Jones said.

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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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BQB’s Zombie Apocalypse Survivor’s Journal – Day 13

At exactly six am, we all woke up to what sounded and felt like an earthquake.

I bet Jerry Bruckheimer doesn't have shit like this on his blog.

I bet Jerry Bruckheimer doesn’t have shit like this on his blog.

VGRF and I looked out the window just in time to see a squad of F-15 fighter jets flying over head. In their wake, a sonic boom followed.

Blandie popped out of the bedroom.

“What was that?!”

Bernie jumped up.

“I didn’t touch anything!  I swear!”

“Relax, humans,”  Alien Jones said.  “The East Randomtown Mall is no more.”

The space phone rang.  I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Battler, you son of a bitch.  You’re still alive.”

I recognized the voice from yesterday’s broadcast.

General Morganstern?  What a Douchenstern.

General Morganstern? What a Douchenstern.

“General Morganstern.”

“I was hoping you’d still be in the mall.  I do hate to waste good missiles.  Pity.”

I put the space phone on speaker.

“Wait.  So you’re TRYING to kill me?”

“Of course.”

I could feel a sense of panic spread over the group.

“Why?”

“Two words, dipshit.  Operation Fuhrerpunschen.”

I tried to bluff.

“I don’t…I don’t know anything about…come again?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, nerd!”  Morganstern shouted.  “You’ve got that 1950’s style private detective spilling his guts about how he took out Hitler all over your pathetic excuse for a blog!”

“So?”  I asked.  “I only have 3.5 readers!”

“That’s 3.5 too many!”  Morganstern replied.  “National security is at stake, son.  You and your friend out in California have no idea what forces you’re messing with.  We’ve got plans for Jake and as for you?  We’ll find you.  We’ll blow your ass up and the public will never know that you were anything more than a zombie apocalypse casualty.”

I sat down on the couch.

“Is there anything I can do to talk you out of this?”

“Maybe,”  Morganstern said.  “Turn over the alien so we can slice him up.  Do that and shut down the Bookshelf Battle Blog down for good and never utter the words, “Operation Fuhrerpunschen” to anyone ever again, and I’ll let you live.”

Alien Jones and I had become looked up at me and was about to speak when I cut him off.

“No, Alien Jones,”  I said.  “Don’t even think about it.  I’ll never give you up to save myself.”

“I wasn’t thinking that at all,”  Alien Jones said.  “I was just going to ask if you think your Aunt has any booze up in this shack.”

“You’ll get my alien over my dead body,”  I said into the space phone.  “Listen, my 3.5 readers just assume everything on my blog is fiction.  I’m not worth your time.”

“The very powerful man I answer to would disagree.”

“The President?”  I asked.  “I doubt he’d condone what you’re doing.”

“The man I’m working for makes the President look as powerful as an old washer woman.  That’s all I’ll say about that.”

“General,”  I said.  “Fine.  Kill me if you have to, but please, let my friends go.”

“Do they know about Operation Fuhrerpunschen?”  Morganstern asked.

Bernie and Blandie were clueless.  Alien Jones and VGRF were both Bookshelf Battle Blog contributors so of course they knew.

“No not at all,”  I lied.

“Sir?”  Blandie interrupted.

I directed my gaze toward Blandie and mouthed the words, “SHUT UP!”

“Sir,”  Blandie repeated.  “My name is Blandie Settler.  I’m a proud American in good standing and I just want to assure you Iknow NOTHING about Operation Furry-whatever, so there’s no reason to…”

Boo! Blandie is the worst!

Boo! Blandie is the worst!

“Jesus Christ, Battler!”  Morganstern barked.  “Have you had me on speaker the entire time?  Now I really DO have to kill every last asshole you’ve got in that room with you!”

“Thanks Blandie,”  I said.  “Thanks a lot.”

“You’re just lucky your phone can’t be tracked,”  Morganstern said.  “I’d of wiped you off the map by now.”

“How did you get this number anyway?”  I asked.

“We’ve been tracking your porn viewing for quite sometime, Battler.  Every time you hit on one of the sites we’re monitoring, it gives us all your info.”

VGRF wacked me.

“What?”

“Even now?” she whispered.  “You’re looking at porn during the zombie apocalypse?  Have you no shame?”

“I’ve got to say our tech guy had to work around the clock to figure out how to dial a number that included four pictures of a frog licking a cupcake.”

Alien Jones shrugged his shoulders.

“There are parts of the universe where a frog licking a cupcake is considered good luck,”  Alien Jones explained.

“You know what the sad part is General?”

“What’s that?”

BQB and Jake working on an Operation Fuhrerpunschen novel together?!

BQB and Jake working on an Operation Fuhrerpunschen novel together?!

“Had you just come to me and asked me to keep Operation Fuhrerpunschen off of my blog, I’d of done it.  But now that you’re trying to kill my friends and I, I can guarantee you that not only will I find a way to escape, but I’ll contract with Jake to put a full length novel about said operation on Amazon as soon I get home!”

The General went silent for a bit, then uttered, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, bitch.”

“You’ll never get out of this alive, Battler,”  Morganstern said.  “I’ve got surveillance drones combing East Randomtown as we speak.  As soon as you pop your ass out into the light of day, I’ll shove a missile up it.”

I hanged up the phone.

“Listen everyone,”  I said.  “I’m the one who allowed Jake to talk about a top secret mission on my blog.  I’m the one who brought the heat down.  Morganstern wants me.  He’s just threatening the rest of you to get at me.  Let’s split up.  You all get to safety.  I’ll turn myself in.  Once I’m dead, he won’t care about you.”

“Untrue,”  Alien Jones said.  “I read Morganstern’s mind.  He truly intends to hunt down you and anyone who has ever heard the words, ‘Operation Fuhrerpunschen.’”

“Shit!”  Bernie said as he stuck his fingers in his ears.  “Stop saying it then!”

“Our only hope of survival is to stick together.  It will be risky, but we’ll only move under the cover of darkness so as to avoid the military’s surveillance.  If we are detected, we run the risk of becoming the victims of another air strike.”

“Then it’s settled,”  VGRF said.  “Let’s all get some rest and we’ll move out at dusk.”

“I’m sorry I got you all into this mess,”  I said.  “I promise to you get you out of it.”

“Don’t make promises yo’ ass can’t keep, sucka,’”  Bernie said.

“Which reminds me,”  I said as I dialed a number into the space phone, “I promised to interview another zombie author today.”

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Like BQB on Facebook!

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Hello 3.5 readers, just a reminder to follow yours truly on Facebook, and you’ll get regular updates from deep inside the East Randomtown Zombie Apocalypse.

 

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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 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

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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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

gz

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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