A sort of gear-head philosophy Zombie Blog
This subject matter of this blog can be anything as long as there is a tie-in to zombies. Why? Because I\'ve become tired of fighting my ZCWD (Zombie Compulsive Writing Disorder), deciding that rather than repress my compulsion to write about the undead I should just give into the obsession. Along the way I may or may not address why ZCWD -- a kind of meme, I believe -- is so widespread. Or not. Your comments are welcome. Oh yeah... visit my http://unselfishgene.com to review my zombie novel.
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Nazi Zombies in Austin, TX
AUSTIN (KXAN) - Austin drivers making their morning commute were in for a surprise when two road signs on a busy stretch of road were taken over by hackers. The signs near the intersection of Lamar and Martin Luther King boulevards usually warn drivers about upcoming construction, but Monday morning they warned of� “zombies ahead.”
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Market, my ass!
Okay, this time I’m listening to conventional wisdom. To market my current book, I’m:1) Doing book signings. Feb. 15, Hastings in Tyler, Tx; April 4, Barnes&Noble in Tyler, Tx, and Feb 20-22, setting my ass down as a vendor (of my book) at ConDFW.
2) Also, I’m reviewing books in the same Genre as mine to link them back to this profile/blog. It seems dishonest to me, but I actually kind of enjoy writing the reviews. It’s almost like fiction wr
Unselfish Gene cover at Amazon
iting, only sort of real.
3) Trying not to think about how I could be spending the time finishing Dreamtime of an Alien God, the sequel to Messenger’s of Alien God which should be ready to go on Amazon this summer.
4) If you read this and buy m
y book, maybe I won’
t have to spend s
o much time trying
to act like a
Mad Man, and more ti
me writing something you’d actually enjoy reading.
- http://unselfishgene.com
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Argh! Scope this out
Do zombies feel pain? I guess it depends upon whom (or what) you talk to. Some don’t. Some do; that’s why they eat brains. Brains pate relieves pain. This zombie writer feels pain, not in the brain, but in the shoulder.
Five days ago I had orthoscopic surgery on my shoulder for bone spurs and a tear in the rotator cuff and it hurts like a son-of-a-bitch. Imagine if you will, your author as a zombie. Remember those essential scenes where the undead converge on the lonely farm house. Always there’s at least one who died of a stab wound or maybe was at least attacked with such. See me with a eight-inch knife sticking out of my left shoulder, the blade lodged between the ball and socket. That’s what it feels like now — after two narcotic pain relievers. That’s why I’m awake (sort of) writing this entry at 2:30 a.m. instead of sleeping.
Right now, I’d probably try gulping down a chunk of gray matter if I thought it would make the pain go away!
Surgeon-cam view of my rotator cuff
