Undead Anonymous

Meet Carl, one of the seven “survivors” who meet twice weekly for the Undead Anonymous meetings that are more or less the extent of Andy’s social life.

Carl is a bit of a curmudgeon, which is a nice way of saying he’s an insensitive prick. This stems from the fact that he’s angry about having been stabbed seven times, twice in the face, by two teenagers who stole his wallet and used his credit cards to buy seven hundred dollars worth of online pornography. The fact that you can get a lot of quality online pornography for free pisses him off even more.

Carl used to be a member of a local social club and resort, where he played tennis and golf and attended weekly dinners and hob-nobbed with the social elite of Santa Cruz County. Now he sits in a room with a bunch of rotting corpses twice a week instead of being able to go to the movies or take a walk on the beach or play a round of golf.

Understandably, Carl is a little bitter, so he tends to take out his frustration on the other members of the group. But his verbal barbs begin to soften as he develops a camaraderie with his fellow zombies.

In addition to his general snarky attitude, one of Carl’s more endearing habits is his tendency to distractedly finger the stab wounds in his face.

Next entry: D is for Decomposition.

Breather (br‘́́ thər) n. 1 one who breathes; a human being; a living person   2 someone who has civil and constitutional rights   3 a tasty, midnight snack

When I first came up with the title Breathers, I was in a bed and breakfast in Hanalei Bay, Kauai, recovering from the fact that I’m a Caucasian male who neglected to apply a strong enough sunscreen.  This was in October of 2003, two years after I’d written the short story “A Zombie’s Lament,” upon which Breathers is based.

At first I wasn’t sure the title would work for the novel.  After all, Breathers is a dark comedy about zombies, not the humans who abuse and subjugate them.  Except for the Breathers who work at the SPCA.  But that’s for another blog…

Problem was, I fell in love with the title.  And although I tried to come up with alternate titles that might work, I couldn’t bring myself to lose it.  So I had to make sure the content of the novel supported the title.  Still, my publisher wanted to add a reading line so that potential readers would know it was a novel about zombies, so we settled on the title of the original story it was based upon.  Which was kind of cool.

Officially, the first draft of the first chapter of Breathers was written on October 3, 2003.  I only know that because I have the journal entry for it.  But that chapter isn’t the first chapter.  It ended up becoming the second chapter.  The opening to the novel originally went:

My name is Andy and I’m a survivor.  At least that’s what I’m supposed to say and think and believe.  But I can’t say it, I don’t think it, and the only thing I believe is that this is worse than anything I could have ever imagined.

I finished the first draft of Breathers in February 2006.  The long lag between start and finish was due in part to my personal life and to the fact that I’m a binge writer.  I don’t write every day.  Which is heresy among a lot of writers.  I used to write every day.  From 1990-2001.  Two hours every morning before work and whatever I could get in at night.  But binge writing works better for me now.

I didn’t start out to write a novel that had any sort of social commentary.  I’ve just always loved zombies and wanted to give them a voice, show what undeath was like from their perspective.  I wanted to create a zombie the reader could sympathize and empathize with, so that if he eventually gave in to his instincts, the reader would still be on his side.

Plus I always wondered if it was necrophilia if you were both dead.

82.

That’s the number of agents who passed on Breathers in one way or another before Michelle Brower of Wendy Sherman Associates said “Yes.”  Which was a good thing, because had I hit the century mark in rejections, I was going to need some serious therapy.

This was back in November of 2007, 15 months after I’d sent out the first queries for Breathers.  12 years after I’d submitted my first novel.  18 years after I’d written my first short story when I was living down in Los Angeles and working 60 hours a week doing post-production work for Disney.

It’s a bit of a paradox, really.  When I wrote my first short story titled “The Club” back in 1990, I never thought it would take so long to reach this point.  And yet everything seems to have happened so quickly.

Two months after offering me representation, Michelle had an offer on the table from Broadway Books.  A little over a year later, my book is being published and the film rights are being sold.  Surreal.  Bizarre.  Wonderful.  Pick an adjective.  Any adjective.  Then insert HERE____________________.

Although I can’t say I had a clear cut idea of what I hoped for in an agent, Michelle is everything I could have wanted.  The simple fact that she believed in me when so many others didn’t was enough.  But I can’t imagine finding anyone better to guide me into the publishing world than Michelle.

Okay, put away the hankies and the tissues.  I’m just saying that my agent is a rockstar.

Next entry:  B is for Breathers.  (Big surprise.)

Okay, I realize I said I was going to start writing Breathers from A to Z two months ago, but number one, I realized the timing was off. And number two, I’m a lazy blogger.

Part of that has to do with the fact that I’m just not comfortable sharing personal information. Politics. Religious beliefs. How many bowel movements I have each day. Not really something I want to talk about.

I prefer to stick with the whole writing thing. The occasional flash fiction. Perspectives from Andy. Maybe some insight into what happens when I sit down at the keyboard.

So since I’ve had several interviews and a number of future fans already wondering how I came up with the idea of Breathers and what it was like writing as a zombie and how long it took me to find an agent, I thought I’d start a running blog, twenty-six entries, going over the process of Breathers from A to Z.

Now, similar to Invisible Monsters by Chuck Palahniuk, this isn’t going to be the type of blog that goes “And then. And then. And then…” It’s going to jump around a bit depending on the letter and how much caffeine I’ve consumed on any particular day. And on those days when I want to sleep in, I’ll have Andy fill in for me to add the zombie’s point of view on the whole process.

So starting on Tuesday, I’ll post the first entry, A is for AGENT. Because really, I wouldn’t be writing this without her.

Yes, that is a smile on my face.  And yes, for the past several days it’s been rather permanent.  It’s kind of difficult to stop laughing when the moment you’ve dreamt of for nearly 20 years exceeds your wildest expectations.

Fox Searchlight Pictures Acquires “Breathers”

First of all, the fact that Mason Novick and Diablo Cody are co-producing the film is something I couldn’t have even imagined.  I’m both honored and humbled that they would have the faith to back Breathers on the big screen.

I’m also excited to work with Geoff LaTulippe, who is adapting Breathers and whose breakout screenplay, Going the Distance, is in development with New Line.

Finally, at the Church of Hollywood, my denomination has been Fox ever since I saw Star Wars in 1977.  The theme music for the Fox Searchlight intro still gives me the chills every time I see one of their films.

I wonder if I can get that as a ringtone…

It’s true that zombies don’t tend to appreciate Breather food the way we did when we were alive, but that doesn’t mean we don’t miss sitting down to a nice home cooked meal or enjoying a fresh, oven-baked cinnamon roll.  Problem is, everything tends to taste bland, so we mostly just eat out of habit.

While we’re on the subject of food, here are a couple of haikus I wrote:

recipe for the undead
     reanimate flesh
     simmer organs in decay
     formaldehyde stew

snap, crackle, pop
     maggots feast on fat
     subcutaneous buffet
     sounds like rice krispies

To most Breathers, all zombies look alike. It’s a common misperception, as there are obvious differences that separate us even in undeath. Of course, all Breathers look like lunch to us, so I guess I shouldn’t throw stones.

Among the living dead, you’ll find Draggers, who don’t have the use of their legs and have to drag themselves around by their arms. You don’t see too many Draggers. For one, they typically get donated to science shortly after reanimating and for another, they have a hard time outrunning drunk bowling leagues.

Then there are Freshies, the recently reanimated who have the stink of the living still on them. Still, most of them don’t exactly smell like Irish Spring. More like summer compost. Unless they’ve had a formaldehyde fix. Some embalmed Freshies could even pass for Breathers if it weren’t for the gray pallor and the occasional belch of hydrogen sulphide.

Other zombies are like walking science experiments, serving host to a plethora of bacteria, fungi, and maggots. These are the unlucky ones who didn’t get embalmed and who suffer the indignities of putrefaction as their muscles collapse, their skin slips, and their internal organs turn to chicken soup.

In zombie circles, we refer to these pathetic souls as Melters.

For obvious reasons, Melters don’t have long shelf lives. If they don’t disintegrate first, most Melters end up getting carted off to medical research farms or placed in the temporary exhibits at zombie zoos. Though they don’t make good candidates as crash test dummies since Melters tend to explode on impact.

Have I mentioned that I really dig my publishing team at Random House?

First there’s my editor, Laura Swerdloff, whose insights and suggestions tightened the manuscript and improved it in ways I couldn’t have managed without her.

Then there’s my publicist, Ellen Folan, who has been contacting independent bookstores in San Francisco and southern California to set up readings and signings and who has helped me to navigate the promotional journey.
 

Finally there’s Julie Sills, my marketing manager, who helped to coordinate the Necrobufrin videos and who has been working tirelessly to come up with ways to promote Breathers on the Internet. One of the most recent ideas was a widget where you can read Chapter 1 of Breathers on-line in its published format.

Get your own – Open publication

It’s pretty cool.  Or maybe I’m just enjoying this too much.

It’s difficult, if not impossible, for most Breathers to relate to what it’s like to be a zombie.

To empathize with all that we’ve lost.

To understand the daily challenges of maintaining a sense of humanity while your body decomposes and body fluids ooze out of various wounds and orifices.

For most zombies, time leaves us standing by, watching as our old lives move on without us.  It’s as if time crawls along at half speed and we’re stuck in the middle of it, spectators to the slow, methodical, maddening tick-tick-tick.

While it’s difficult to imagine what this feels like, one Breather in Dearborn, MI apparently understands better than most.  He and his wife.  At least with respect to how slowly time moves for us.

Doug, a Breather from somewhere in California asks:

Do zombies go on vacation? If so, how do they get on the airplane? Isn’t that a Bio Hazard risk? Can zombies tan?

Well, Doug, the answer to your first question is NO.  Zombies do not go on vacation.  At least not on purpose.  Sure, we get to spend some quality time at the zombie zoo, but not as spectators.  Then there’s the occasional trip to the impact testing centers.  And some of us do get to spend several weeks out of the year decomposing on the side of a hill at a forensic research facility in Tennessee.  But that’s about as close as we get to Graceland.  And of course, it’s a one-way ticket.

The only way zombies get on an airplane is in a body bag.

Bio Hazard risk?  We’re not contagious.  And unless you’re infested with maggots, chances are you’re not going to leave any parts of you behind.  Unless, of course, you’re a Melter.  But if you want to know the truth, some of us have better hygiene than Breathers.  You ever ride a city bus, Doug?

And as far as I know, zombies don’t tan.  Considering that our skin is already dried out, spending any time in direct sunlight, even with SPF 100, isn’t a good idea.  We have enough physical challenges without having to contend with a sunburn.  That and heat tends to speed up the process of decomposition.  So we tend to seek out cooler climates.

Thanks for your questions, Doug.