A Christmas Carol of the Living Dead

Every year when we haul out the Christmas Carol DVD (with Alistair Sims, of course), I find myself thinking, "This could really use some zombies."

So last year, under the influence of cough syrup and nasal decongestants, I sat down and did terrible, terrible things to Charles Dickens' classic. I added zombies. And called it good. Well...okay, at least.

My ode to Christmas zombie joy is now available on Amazon for the Kindle, or in paperback for those of you who like to actually hold a book. You know what would make a great pre-Christmas gift? MY BOOK! Get into the holiday spirit while reading about zombies ripping people to merry, holly jolly shreds.

And if you'd prefer a shorter zombie holiday tale, there's always my short story, "A Christmas Wish," about a young boy who wishes upon a Christmas star for a miracle to bring his mother back. Soon to be made into a Claymation TV special, sponsored by Dolly Madison's Raspberry Zingers.

Either way, I'd really really reeeeeealllly appreciate it if you leave me some feedback either on Amazon or here or Goodreads or anywhere you'd like to let me know what you thought.

Because after all, there's always room for zombies.

Back on Amazon!

Just a quickie note to say that I'm putting some of my short stories back up on Amazon for the Kindle, including the uber-meta story, "Kindled." I'm going to be working on some more short stories for an upcoming horror collection tentatively titled Blood and Flesh, so keep an eye out. Literally. Zombie style.

A Few Short & Sweet Reviews

Here's a few short reviews of books I've read recently.

The Strain/The Fall/The Night Eternal by Guillermo Del Toro and Chuck Hogan: First off, I love a good vampire apocalypse book, whether it's small scale like Salem's Lot or global, as in this trillogy. No sparkling vampires, no romances between the dead and the living...just lots of fangs and blood and action. The first book of the series, The Strain, starts off on a high note, as a vampire arrives by plane to New York and mass death and chaos follow. The Master, as he likes to call himself, aligns himself with rich old man who wants to live forever and begins a quick takeover of NYC. Eventually, everything gets very, very  bad for people in the city. Vampires are everywhere, nuclear explosions in other parts of the world have created an endless dusk for them to run around in, and the Master is getting ready to dominate the globe. It all ties up with a (sort of) satisfactory ending. Highly recommend the series.

This is Not a Test by Courtney Summers: Oh, my Glob...I loved this book. Loved it. Read it in one sitting. It's a YA title, but don't let that keep you from reading it. The premise is one of my favorites: zombie apocalypse. But this story is told through the point of view of a suicidal 17 year old girl who keeps on surviving despite her attempts not to. She and a group of her friends end up at the high school, which makes a nifty temporary shelter from the throngs of the undead. But of course, get a bunch of teenager together and there's going to be drama. Lots of it. Especially when there are zombies thumping at the doors. Extremely well written. Highly, highly, highly recommended.

The Age of Miracles by Karen Thompson Walker: Another YA novel, another highly recommended book. I loved this one too (maybe I'm going through my second adolescence...only this time there are much better books to be read). In this one, the Earth, for some reason, is slowing its rotation. Time begins to lose all meaning. People begin to divide into two groups: those who remain with time as we know it (24 hours days, regardless of day or night) and those who follow the sun, literally. If a night lasts 48 hours, then that's one night, etc. and so on. The main character is a young girl who is witnessing the slow end of the world, watching her family begin to fall apart under the stresses, experiencing her first love, realizing that she might not become an old woman. The writing is extraordinary--this is another one that I read straight through. Don't let the YA label keep you from reading this.

REVIEW: Profoundly Erotic by Joe Bob Briggs

When Joe Bob told me that his next book was going to be on erotic movies, my first thought was, "Oh, my God...how am I going to find information on these movies without looking like the world's biggest perv?" My second thought was, "Oh, my God...where am I going to find anything on 'I Am Curious (Yellow)?"

Well, I didn't come off as a perv to anybody, and I did find the information, as proven in the book. So I would personally like to thank everyone who thought that the book was well-researched. I appreciate it.

Research for this book was just as tough as the other. Believe it or not, you can't just go to the Internet for everything. I tracked down books and stood for hours over a Xerox copier and provided files for each movie that were, like for Profoundly Disturbing, two to three inches thick. Some would call it overkill. I called it being thorough.

Researching these books led to researching JB's commentaries for a slew of Z-movies...once again, volunteering, and once again, struggling to find adequate information for movies no one's ever heard of. So if you enjoyed his commentaries on "Jesse James Meets Frankenstein's Daughter," "Double D Avenger," "Samurai Cop," "Blood Shack," "The Hollywood Strangler Meets the Skid-Row Slasher," "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies," "I Spit on Your Grave," "Hells Angels '69," "Run, Angel Run," "Hell High," "Warlock Moon," "Blood Sisters," and maybe one or two more that I can't remember...you're welcome! I sweated blood finding all the info that made his commentary so interesting, so I'm happy somebody out there appreciates it.

REVIEW: Profoundly Disturbing by Joe Bob Briggs

I can't really review this book with any kind of unbiased opinion, because...I was Joe Bob's Researcher! (that sounded like it should be the title of a B-movie, so read it in your head as such).

Yep, 'tis true. Check out the thank you's at the bottom of the page and you'll see my name right there in black and white. It's funny, because no one ever thinks about the person who provides all the raw material for the author...and let me just tell you this, you have not worked your ass off until you've tried to find information on movies that are out of print, starring no one you've ever heard of, and that no one has ever really seen (I'm looking at you, "Mom and Dad.")

I'm happy to read the positive reviews of this book, but I feel like I should add my two cents to the pile and let readers know the massive amount of work that went into it. I remember scouring reputable websites and photocopying dozens and dozens of books and providing JB with files of reference material that were at least two or three inches thick. He definitely got his money's worth out of my efforts (considering I volunteered to do it).

I think the book came out beautifully, and I can't say enough good things about the index (I helped with that, too). I give it five stars for the amazing research. (ha ha).

Keep an eye out for the sequel to this review: Profoundly Erotic.

REVIEW: The Cannibals of Candyland by Carlton Mellick III

To be honest, I wasn't sure about this book. I'd stumbled across it while looking for other things, and while the cover was eye-catching and the title is unavoidably cool, I wasn't sure if it would be my "thing." I'd never read bizarro fiction before and didn't think it was my cup o'tea.

But anyway, I gave in and downloaded this one for my Kindle and it sat there for a few months while I went through my "read only true crime/read only biographies/read only nonfiction" phases. Last night, bored with everything else, I decided to read a few pages and see just how 'bizarro' it was.

Well.

My first bit of surprise was that I got into it immediately. I'm unfamiliar with Mellick's writing, but once I accepted his world of men who wear only candy-apple red and keep multi-colored kittens in his pockets while hunting down the candy-men who killed his siblings, I was totally absorbed in the story.

Huh? What's that you're wondering? Candy-men?

First of all, to enjoy this book you're going to have to embrace the absurd. Yes. Candy-men. Men and women literally--and I really do mean literally--made of candy: taffy bodies, cotton candy hair, gumdrop nipples, etc. and so on. They also have really sharp teeth. Think Pennywise from "It." And they use said teeth to eat up little children. Graphically and in great detail. This is not a book for the faint of heart or easily upset, because the kids in this book...they don't fare too well. Apparently they make for dee-licious eatin'.

The great thing about this book is that it has such a simple plot: as a child, Franklin saw his siblings eaten by a monstrous candy-woman and, of course, no one believes him. The candy people grow into a thing of legend, and when he grows up, Franklin makes hunting them down and getting proof of their existence his goal in life. When he wounds one of the monsters and follows it down into the underground caves they live in, he finds a world right out of Willie Wonka's wet dreams: everything is candy. Houses are made of cookies. The ground is chocolate. Everything is edible...including Franklin. I won't give too much more of the plot away--needless to say, he runs into the candy-woman who killed his brothers and sisters--but the details of that world are so interesting and well described that I actually think it made my blood sugar go up.

So will I be reading more of Carlton Mellick's work? Yep, yes, and oh yeah. I've already got two more of his books cued up on the Kindle, and will likely be reading more. I'm in professional awe at his ability to just go batshit crazy with his ideas and take them as far as he can. That kind of fearlessness is rare nowadays. I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes weirdness, horror, and cannibals (not necessarily in that order).

Before ORFOB went FUBAR

Before the nightmare that was ORFOB began. Me and my brother, David. I am, of course, the one without the goatee.

The problem with GoodReads...

...is that I'm constantly forgetting to add the stuff I'm reading to it. Maybe it's a touch of ADD, but I'm usually reading at least two or three books at the same time. To look at my Kindle would be like looking at the horror section of Amazon. Seriously. Too many books and not enough time. And don't even ask about the books I lose interest in reading. If I'm not caught hook, line and sinker in the first chapter (or even first few pages), I'm out. I'm notoriously vicious in my reading habits. I don't tolerate boredom well...especially if it's in a mass-produced, major-publishing house novel. Again, I guess I'll chalk it up to writer's envy (it's like penis envy, only you envy someone for their publishing contract/connections instead).

I really need to do some work on GoodReads. Maybe even a competition or giveaway for my books. I can hear the multitudes reaching for their keyboards now.

A smallish rant

I'm not naming names, and this could come across as just a simple case of writer's envy, but when did it become okay for the EDITOR of an anthology to present himself or herself as the sole author of the work? I'm talking about anything from appearing alone at book signings to having it under his/her own name at Amazon. I'm not talking about anyone I've worked with (well...recently) but I'm noticing this and wondering if it's a new trend. I realize that the editor does a good bit of work in creating an anthology, but what would it be without the work of the writers (who are, in most cases, listed as "and others" in an anthology that has one or two brand name authors)?

Okay. End rant. For now.

Surviving ORFOB

It's taken me a while to recover from Friday night's book signing fiasco at the Ohio River Festival of Books. How bad was it? Oh, bad. Very bad. Bad enough that I'm not going to sign up to do it again. And there were a lot of other people there who aren't going back, either. But I'm skimping on the details. Do let's revisit the horror, shall we?

First of all...they only gave the signing authors a two and a half hour signing period. Seriously. From 6:30 to 9:00. On a Friday night. Because there's nothing people like better on a Friday night than to wander around a half-empty ballroom of a civic center. In 2008, the signing period lasted all day--and I did better business even with a blizzard. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Just keep in mind that we only had two and a half hours to try to sell books.

So I'm sitting there at my nicely decorated table--skulls on raised candleholders, a nice vinyl sign hanging on the front of the table (again, with skulls) with my name and my  books, a cute little monster holding my business cards, my books neatly stacked and ready for people to browse. A few people mosey past the table. I smile pleasantly and say hello, ready to launch into an explanation of why I have two horror books and a romance, or why I love zombies, or any number of things. But most of the people just kind of drift on by. Some of them look a little rattled by the skulls.

I should digress for a moment and explain that the majority of authors at this signing were hawking books of a more Appalachian flavor--histories of coal camps, railroads, etc and so on. I don't know if there were very many of us selling fiction, and I know for sure that there weren't any other people selling horror novels (or even romances). To say it wasn't quite my demographic would be a nice way of saying, "Nobody was interested in my books."

Anyway, after being condescended to by one publisher who was there (he said I had "pluck" for publishing my own stuff; I hate 'pluck') and ignored by one person after another, I had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to be my night. An elderly woman walked past my table and said, "I don't do zombies." My brother, under his breath, said, "Give it some time."

That was probably the highlight of the evening.

Because this is when ORFOB turned to FUBAR. Apparently, someone scheduled a Pulitzer Prize winning writer to give a talk from 7 - 8 pm, with a reception afterward in the ballroom where all us nobody, non-Pulitzer winning slobs were selling books. That would have been fine--let the people who wanted to hear Ms. Pulitzer talk see her, and let the rest of us try to sell books. But no...no, that wasn't the way someone wanted it. Suddenly the building crowd was bumrushed into the other room to hear the Pulitzer Prize winner. Someone connected to the festival (I won't say who, but those who were there know what happened) was shanghaiing everyone and forcing them to go listen to the other writer.

And when I say everyone, I mean EVERYONE...even us authors who were there just trying to sell a book or two.

Yeah, that wasn't working for me. I didn't want to leave my table. I was told by that certain someone that everyone HAD to leave the ballroom, that we could leave our stuff because it was going to be locked up, that we just had to come listen to this prize-winning writer.

Okay, first off...how demeaning was that to all us 'nobody' writers? I've never won a Pulitzer, obviously, but how dare she take time away from us just to fill seats? People were wandering around with dazed looks on their faces, asking "Is this mandatory? Do we HAVE to do this?"

Within minutes, the momentum that was slowly building at the book signing screeched to a halt. And guess what...? The doors weren't even locked.

An hour passes. An hour out of that two and a half hour window we were given to sign and sell books. By eight o'clock, people come filtering in again...but now, we can't talk freely because there's a bluegrass band playing as loudly as they can, and people aren't interested in our books anyway because hey look! There's free food!

To make a pathetic story shorter, I didn't sell a single book Friday night. Not even a nibble. People took my card, or even picked up a book and said, "Hey, that looks like that might actually be good." But no sales. Meanwhile, I'm told that I look like an actress that I've never heard of (and when I looked her up...sigh...I'm not too happy about the comparison).

So no...never again. I'm going to try the WV Book Festival in October if I can get a table, but I'll never do ORFOB again. Certain egos ruined the entire experience.

So that's how I spent my Friday night.

REVIEW: Girl Walks Into a Bar... by Rachel Dratch

I've always had a soft spot for Rachel Dratch because she's not the "traditional" actress-type. Plus, she's always funny as hell and willing to go the extra mile for a laugh. She's relatable, I always thought, because she seems real.

Turns out that I was right. Her memoirs have no tragic reveals about her life, no awful memories or life-changing tragedies, but Dratch comes across as a very nice person who happens to not have the beauty queen looks that Hollywood seems to demand. Seeing as how I'm also not of the beauty queen variety, I could relate to her struggles to get out of the "wacky lesbian/secretary/best friend" roles. Dratch writes with an easy humor that feels like a friend telling you a story. I finished the book in one evening because the pages just rolled by...plus her story--including her unexpected pregnancy at the age of 44--was so interesting and well-told.

Highly recommended.

REVIEW: Population Zero by Wrath James White

I grew up reading Richard Laymon and Jack Ketchum, so it was a neat little surprise to find a new author to add to that lofty list of hardcore, no-fear horror writers. Population Zero was my first brush with Wrath James White's writing, and I have to say...I really enjoyed it (and I'm a little hard to please when it comes to horror). I read it straight through, no stops, and promptly went to Amazon and added a bunch of his other books to my Kindle. So thanks, Wrath, for making sure I eat nothing but Ramen for the next few weeks.

Population Zero is not a bit sympathetic to the welfare class. The main character believes that they're literally "worthless eaters" and that they're destroying the earth with their nonstop breeding and manipulation of the system. So he gets the idea that maybe he can do something about it by suggesting that one welfare mother get herself 'fixed' in exchange for extra food stamps and other privileges. When that works, he goes further...and further...and the next thing you know he's Googling 'how to do a vasectomy.'

This book isn't for the faint of heart. It's graphic and gross and disgusting and cringe-worthy, and--in my opinion--absolutely worth the cover price. Every now and then, 'subtle' just doesn't do it for me. Let others have their quiet horror...I'll take visceral terror every time.

Recommended...but only for those who have the stomach for it.

REVIEW: The Walking Dead: Rise of the Governor

Like every zombie-crazed fanatic out there, I'm a huge fan of The Walking Dead--comic, TV show, webisodes, etc. If it's got "Walking Dead" on it, I'm there. So when I saw that Robert Kirkman was writing a novel about the ever-so-evil character of The Governor, well...I had to get my hands on it. And fast. And I did.

NetGalley, a neat little reviewer's dream, allowed me to read it before the publication date, but due to some unfortunate medical situations, I didn't get to read/write a review until later. That said, the book was well worth the wait. In fact, I'll probably have to read it again because I sped through it so fast.

The story is your basic "uh-oh, zombies!" type of situation: the dead are coming back and they're hungry, and in the meanwhile, civilization is going straight to hell. The main characters include the man who will become "The Governor," his brother, a little girl, and some friends who are doomed to become zombie fodder as they struggle to get out of a bad situation and find a safe place. That's pretty much all the plot you really need in a zombie novel, as long as the characters are interesting and the "close calls" are nice and juicy (and by juicy, I mean bloody). Rise of the Governor has this in spades, and on top of all that, it has a nifty little twist at the end that I did NOT see coming. I always appreciate that in a book.

The writing team of Kirkman and Jay Bonansinga (not to be confused with Sheldon Cooper's 'Bazinga!', btw) seems to work well together. There's a smooth narrative that should be familiar to fans of the comic. My only quibble--and it's a small one--is the use of the present tense throughout the book. For some reason, it distracted me at first. I got over it.

This book is meant to be the first of a trilogy, and I'm looking forward to what will come next. Somebody whisper in Kirkman's ear that he needs to flesh out the Daryl character from the show. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeze!

My own first negative review

I've been a writer for a loooong time, and I've been a published writer for about six or seven years now. I've had some criticisms and some raves, and I realize that's what comes with writing for public consumption: some people are going to like it, and some aren't. That's just life.

I've also reviewed quite a few books in my time, and the thing I've always tried to keep in mind--even with my negative reviews--is that there's a real person on the other side of the review. The writer. Maybe it's because I'm a writer myself, but I understand the hard work and effort that goes into writing something, even if I don't personally like it. And so I try to highlight what's good without performing a hack job on the book. Somebody out there is going to like it. That somebody just isn't me.

Which leads me to the subject of this post: my own first negative review. I guess I've been pretty fortunate over the years that it's taken this long for someone to really not like my writing. Years ago, I might have been crushed by the comments. Today...not so much. I've reached that perfect point of not giving two hot damns about it.

Here's the review in question: Sunflowers's review of The Giving Season. If you keep reading the rest of Ms. Sunflowers reviews you'll see that she really doesn't like anything. In fact, I can't help but wonder why she keeps reading romances if she hates so many of them. I get the feeling that our Ms. Sunflowers might just be a failed writer herself. Envy is an awful thing.

Why am I posting about this? Just to let anyone who reads this blog know that I'm going to be extremely fair about my reviews of books. Unless I absolutely hate the book, I'm going to find something good about it, because I know that everyone has different tastes. Even if I hate the book, I'm going to appreciate the work that went into it. I've had my share of rejections--and I still get them. Being published doesn't mean that it's smooth sailing from there on out.

So read Ms. Sunflowers's review. Enjoy it. Read her others and see if you don't notice a pattern (other than her seeming inability to spell "bitch" correctly). It's her right to criticize, and my right to respond.

And for the record...the positive reviews on the Amazon site are not "shills." Where in the hell would I get the money to PAY people to review my book?

Welcome, Book Nerds!

So you're probably asking yourself, "What the hell does that title mean, anyway?"

When I was in grade school, I used to bring books with me to read during the day. Not kid books, either. I'm talking novelizations of the "Halloween" and "Omen" movies, or whatever horror novels I could talk my mom into letting me read*. It never failed that every time I'd sit down to read, some kid would come up to me and say, "How can you read that? There's no pictures!" in an aghast, awe-struck voice.

So from my very early days, I was a book nerd. I liked to read. And I read a lot. Mostly horror. I didn't mess around with that girly Nancy Drew or Trixie Belden crap. I dabbled in the Little House in the Big Woods series, but only because it was during a summer library program and the librarian expected a 10 year old girl to read about other 10 year old girls, not teenagers like "Carrie." Didn't matter, though...I'd read Carrie years before.

Nowadays, I go all over the genres. True Crime. Horror. Romance. Non-fiction. Whatever. If it sounds good to me, I'll read it. I'm no snob. Actually, I guess I might be, because I cannot abide "literary fiction." Nope. Sorry. Had enough of that during my Bachelor degree days. So if you're expecting reviews of NY Times Bestsellers here, you might want to look elsewhere. I'll admit it...I'm lowbrow and I love it. No pretensions. I like what I like, and that's just the way it is.

So I hope somebody out in cyberland finds this little blog and feels like a friend is telling them what books they just HAVE to read next. Enjoy.

*Full disclosure: I also took copies of Famous Monsters and Mad magazines to school too. As you can probably guess, I wasn't the most popular of girls.