Undead Anonymous

(Author’s Note: While I realize in my previous post that the color Yellow mentioned how Red was a man, he was mistaken. As I started writing this, it became apparent that Red is indeed a woman. So I apologize for any confusion or lack of continuity.)

People are always asking me why I’m so angry.
Telling me to slow down.
Suggesting that I wear some sunscreen.

I’m not sunburned, bitch. This is my natural coloring.

You have no idea how many times some young punk has walked past me and coughed the word “Visine” into his hands. Or what it’s like to have to deal with the constant barrage of relationship-challenged men telling me I look hot.

What I want is for people to just shut the hell up and stop projecting their perceptions of what they think I represent on to me.

Passion.
Embarrassment.
Anger.

They don’t understand what it’s like to go through life with these expectations to live up to, always being associated with some manufactured image of love or power or sex.

Roses.
Ties.
Lipstick.

And then there’s Green who is always hitting on me. Says we belong together. That we “complement” each other. Like peanut butter and chocolate.

Stoner.

This isn’t Yellow speaking.  Not yet.  This is me, offering a bit of a preface.  An introduction, if you will.  And also an apology.

The reason for the apology?  This blog is a re-post from May 2008.  So yes, I’m recycling.  But at least I’m admitting it.  I’m up front about what I’m doing.  Plus, I’ve got a perfectly good excuse for re-posting this a year and a half later.

As an exercise, I’m going to do a series of these flash fiction posts as different colors, just for fun and to give me something to do that’s a little creative.  I’ve already written the next one, but since it’s from the color Red, I thought it relevant to post this one as the first in the series and then go from there.

So, without further adieu, the color Yellow…

People are always asking me what it’s like to look like urine.

These are the people who laugh at me. Who walk away snickering and high-fiving each other and thinking they’re all that.

Men usually.
Teenage boys.
Fraternity members.

Assholes.

Women, on the other hand, are more likely to ask me how they look in me. Personally, I wish they’d ask the question in reverse but for some reason, most women tend to think I’m gay. Maybe not as many who think the same thing about Pink, but then that’s kind of a no-brainer. He’s Pink, for Christ’s sake.

Then, of course, there’s Red, Pink’s cousin, who most women find totally hot. Fucker. He’s all show and no substance. But it’s kind of hard to compete with Red when your complementary color is Purple.

So I’m driving down Interstate 5 from Portland to Salem in a rental car, a Hyundai Accent with manual locks and manual windows but with an XM Radio, and I’m listening to Classic Rewind, a station that plays rock and roll from the late 1970s to the early 1990s, when “Rockin’ Into the Night” by 38 Special comes on.

When I first got into music back in high school in the 1980s, my favorite bands were of the pop rock variety.  I wasn’t into classic rock.  I couldn’t stand the Rolling Stones, The Doors, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, or The Who.  And I couldn’t be bothered with New Wave bands like Oingo Boingo, Depeche Mode, INXS, Modern English, or Squeeze.

(Editor’s Note:  I listen to all of these bands now, lest you think I’m totally lacking in my musical tastes.)

No, what I listened to back then, my favorite bands of the 1980s, were bands you don’t hear played on the radio anymore.  Bands that didn’t have any staying power.  Bands you find playing at dive bars and county fairs and asparagus festivals.

Night Ranger.  38 Special.  The Babys.  Loverboy.

Yes.  These are my guilty pleasures.  My forgettable pop rock bands.  My county fair circuit rockers.

To be fair, I also listened to a heavy dose of Van Halen, Def Leppard, The Scorpions, and AC/DC, but nothing got my blood pumping more than “You Can Still Rock in America” by Night Ranger or “Head First” by the Babys.

So there I am, driving down the I-5 in Oregon, the radio cranked up and 38 Special pumping from the speakers, belting out the lyrics as if I’d been listening to “Rockin’ Into the Night” every day for the past 25 years, a big grin on my face.

When I get home, I think I’m going to take out my albums and spin some of my classic 80′s vinyl on my turntable and indulge in some more guilty pleasures.  Then I’m going to add them to my iTunes library.

Now if only I could remember where I put my Izod shirt, my Sperry Topsiders, and my Vuarnets.

It’s 10PM on Sunday night, I’m flying up to Oregon tomorrow morning to visit friends and family and to do a couple of signings in Beaverton and Salem, and I suddenly realized my mother has dial-up Internet access.  While I’m sure I can find a wireless Intenet cafe somewhere in Salem, I’m trying to get an entry posted before I have to travel back to a time when 56 kilobits per second was considered cutting edge technology.

Saturday night, I had the pleasure of sharing the SFinSF event here in San Francisco with Jeff VanderMeer.  The event consisted of a reading from each of us, followed by a discussion and Q&A moderated by Terry Bisson.  The series is held monthly, so if you’re in San Francisco or the Bay Area and you enjoy good author events, swing by and give it a taste.  Proceeds for the events go to the Variety Children’s Charity.

One of the audience members came up to me afterward and asked where he could find some of the short stories I’ve had published.  I haven’t written much short fiction lately and until recently hadn’t had anything published since 2005.  To be honest, I don’t know if I want some of them to be found, but I thought I’d share them here, in case anyone else was curious.  The only one I know that can definitely be found is the last one, “A Zombie’s Lament,” upon which Breathers was based.

“Wish You Were Here”
Redcat Magazine (Spring 1994)

“House Call”
Frightmares, Issue #6 (February 1999)

“Spooked”
Crimson, Issue #4 (1999)

“Beyond the Sea”
Dread, Issue #11 (April 2000)

“Prelude”
Penny Dreadful, Issue #14 (2001)

“En Passant”
Night Terrors, Issue #9 (June 2001)

“If I Only Had A Brain”
Royal Aspirations III (2002)

“Lower Slaughter”
Outer Darkness, Issue #30 (2005)

“A Zombie’s Lament”
Zombies: Encounters With The Hungry Dead (2009)

So there you go.  Happy hunting.  Let me know if you find any of them.  And now I’m going to finish packing and get ready for my journey back to the 20th century.

I’ve done a number of readings over the past eight months and have found certain chapters that I enjoy reading more than others.  Part of that has to do with the content of the chapters, which include a combination of narration and dialogue, and part of it has to do with the reaction I get from the audience.

My favorite chapters to read include:

Chapter 4 (Andy comes upstairs to help his dad install the garbage disposal)
Chapter 20 (the attempted retrieval of Tom’s stolen arm)
Chapter 28 (the Thanksgiving dinner scene)

I also enjoy reading Chapter 48, the scene where Andy’s being interviewed by the media at the SPCA, but I don’t read that one as often because it borders on revealing spoilers.  That’s one of the limitations I have when doing a reading is avoiding chapters that contain spoilers, since I haven’t done an event yet where everyone has read the book.

But I like to mix things up a bit, not read from the same chapters over and over, and see how the audience reacts.  Which brings me to my Reader’s Poll question:

What are some of your favorite chapters in Breathers that you would like to hear at a reading?

It doesn’t matter if the chapters contains spoilers or are chapters I’ve already mentioned, but I’d like to hear what you think.  And everyone who responds either here or on SGBrowne.com will be included in a random drawing for a chance to win a personalized and signed copy of Breathers.  Feel free to answer more than once and on both sites, but only one entry per person for the drawing.

All comments posted up until Friday, November 13th at 11:59PM PST will be entered in the drawing.

I’ve been asked a lot about a sequel for Breathers.

Am I writing one?  Did I plan on one?  When will the next one come out?

To be honest, I never intended to write a sequel to Breathers or to turn it into a series.  First, I already had ideas for several novels after this one.  Second, I didn’t want to be pigeonholed as a zombie author (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and be limited to that genre for my writing life.  And third, the original ending for Breathers was much darker than the one that made it into print.  No ambiguity.  No hope.  No chance of a sequel.

So while I prescribe to the concept of never say never, at the moment I don’t have any plans for a sequel to Breathers.  If I can come up with an original idea that isn’t derivative of the original material and doesn’t tread over a lot of common ground, then maybe.  But I have a hard time believing that a sequel would be better than the original.

Which brings me to the topic of this post…

It’s been rare that I’ve enjoyed any sequel or any second or third installment of a series as much as I enjoyed the original.  Most of the time, they failed miserably to live up to the expectations of the first installment.

The Matrix.  Star Wars.  Indiana Jones.

I can watch the original Matrix over and over, but the sequels?  Yawn.  I thought The Empire Strikes Back was a lot of fun, but it ended like a serial, which pissed me off, even as a teenager when I saw it at the theater.  Return of the Jedi was a little silly and the three prequels lacked any heart.  And while The Last Crusade rivaled Raiders of the Lost Ark, the other two Indiana Jones films, especially the last one, bordered on being unwatchable.

Some other random sequels:

Airplane II had some wonderful moments but wasn’t nearly as funny as the original.  Goldmember helped to redeem the Austin Powers series after The Spy Who Shagged Me, but still couldn’t measure up to the first of the bunch.  And Men in Black II was such a huge disappointment that I often forget it was ever made.

And don’t even get me started on the Rocky series.  Clubber Lang?  Dolph Lungren?  Please.

On the flip side, I loved the Alien trilogy, (though I’m trying to expunge Alien Resurrection from my brain).  Yes, I even enjoyed Alien 3.  The Road Warrior was a worthy sequel to Mad Max, but Beyond the Thunderdome was a bit of a blight on the series.  I thought The Dark Knight was an excellent film on its own, perhaps even better than Batman Begins (Heath Ledger’s portrayal of The Joker is worth multiple viewings).  The only problem was the fact that Christian Bale started growling halfway through the film. None of the children of Tim Burton’s Batman were as good as their father.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy was a fun ride all the way through, though admittedly I’d never read Tolkien’s version so when the first film ended without an ending, I let out a groan along with most of the rest of the theater audience. The Bourne Ultimatum was an improvement over The Bourne Supremacy and arguably better than The Bourne Identity.  And while Godfather III was an average film, The Godfather II was a worthy, and some will say better, follow-up to The Godfather.  I’d say “it’s hard to argue with a Best Picture Oscar,” but Titanic won out over L.A. Confidential in 1997 and Dances With Wolves beat out Goodfellas in 1990, so I can’t use that criteria as justification.

Oh, and my vote for the best sequel based on how much an improvement they were on their originals?  It’s a tie.  Evil Dead 2 and Terminator 2.

Obviously, I’m leaving out a lot of series and sequels, including Star Trek, the James Bond franchise, Rambo, Friday the 13th, American Pie (I thought American Wedding was the funniest of the bunch), Hellboy, Die Hard, and Pirates of the Caribbean (the second and third installments weren’t nearly as good as the first).

And yes, since we’re here, I can’t forget the Romero Films, but other than the original Dawn of the Dead, I don’t think the last three in the series hold up to NOTLD.

Admittedly, I haven’t read as many series or sequels as I’ve seen on film.  I think part of this is that, when I do a search for the Best Book Series of All Time, most of the lists I come across are filled with YA titles like Lemony Snicket, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Golden Compass.

While I did read the first Harry Potter and the first installment of Twilight (I’m of the opinion that Edward’s a psychotic stalker and that vampires should never sparkle).  Although I know a lot of adults loved both series, they’re YA novels and I’m not exactly the target audience, so I didn’t feel a desire to continue.

While I’m sure there are sequels and series out there for adult readers, the only series I have read all the way through is Stephen King’s The Dark Tower saga, which I thought peaked with the fourth installment, Wizard and Glass.  After that, I felt it sort of wound its way down rather than building up to the end.

And in case you’re wondering, no, I still haven’t read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

So what the hell does all of this rambling and listing accomplish other than to share my own personal tastes?  It says that I’m dubious of sequels to stand up to the originals.  Most of the time, they just don’t cut it, so going back to the original question about a sequel, the only way I will write one is if I think it will hold up to Breathers.

So what are your thoughts?  On a sequel to Breathers?  On the films and books I’ve listed?  On the films and books I haven’t listed?  On sequels and series in general?

Back from the 2009 World Fantasy Convention, held annually on Halloween weekend but which, oddly enough, refuses to celebrate Halloween.  Something to do with maintaining a professional appearance and not wanting to turn into a fan convention.

Fortunately, with the convention held this year in San Jose, California, and with a strong contingent of rebellious souls, people got dressed up, including yours truly, though I neglected to bring my camera so I don’t have any evidence of my costume.  If you’re interested, I dressed up as a 1980s big hair band reject, complete with black mullet wig, red pleather pants, and zebra striped platform shoes with plastic goldfish in the heels.  Though a lot of people thought I looked more like a glam rock throwback or Ron Wood from the Rolling Stones.

The convention itself was well attended, with over 1000 writers, editors, agents, and booksellers who dabble in fantasy, science fiction, horror, and all of their sub-genres.  While most of the convention was spent either in the Fairmont Hotel’s expansive and comfortable and understaffed lounge area or in the convention suites and hallways attending various hosted parties (the best of which was the Night Shade Books and Eraserhead Press party with homemade beer), there was some top quality programming to be found in the meeting rooms throughout the weekend.

On Friday I hit up the Invention vs Tradition panel, where Delia Sherman, John Kessel, Richard Lupoff, Beth Meacham, and Daniel Waters (of the Generation Dead series) discussed the challenges of writing original stories that surprise readers as opposed to writing formulaic stories that satisfy a reader’s expectations.  Like writing a romantic comedy where you know Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt are going to fall in love at the end or having Brad turn into a zombie who eats Julia’s heart.

My favorite panel of the weekend took place on Saturday and was titled: When People Confuse the Author With Their Work.  Moderated by Mark Ferrari, with Scott Edelman, Ellen Kushner, Garth Nix, and Tim Powers as participants, the discussion was lively, intelligent, informative, and entertaining.  All of the panelists had a great sense of humor about the subject and provided insightful commentary on the various issues that can arise when a reader gets the author mixed up with the characters in his or her book.

As one of the panelists quoted:  “I am all of my characters, but none of them are me.”

Throughout the weekend, I had a wonderful time hanging out with and meeting a number of wonderful writers and editors, including Eunice and Greg Magill, Stephen Woodworth, Kelly Dunn, John Skipp, Cody Goodfellow, Alice Henderson, J.C. Hay, Daniel Waters, John Joseph Adams, Simon Clark, and F. Paul Wilson.

The best part about the convention, other than the fact that it’s an excuse to stay up late and drink, is that it’s a gathering of individuals who all share a love of books and the craft of writing.  There’s an energy that permeates the meeting rooms and fills the halls and conversation that we’re all able to relate to.  That we can all tap in to.  It’s a shared, communal experience with like minds that you just can’t get anywhere else.

Where else can you have conversations about the difference between horror and science fiction, the influence of Edgar Allan Poe on steampunk, why I Am Legend with Will Smith was a horrible interpretation of the Richard Matheson novel, and how vampires, zombies, and werewolves are representations of our sexual, consumer, and dark sides?

Okay.  So I didn’t really have a summer vacation.  And the list of books that follows includes everything I’ve read in 2009, but it’s just what came into my head first.

The idea to blog about this came about from a comment on one of my posts that suggested I include a link on my web site about what I’m reading.  Well, I looked into placing a flash widget from Goodreads on my site, but it turns out WordPress, on which my web site is based, doesn’t accept flash widgets.  Seems kind of discriminatory, if you ask me.  What’s wrong with flash widgets?  What did they ever do to WordPress?  Does the ACLU know about this?

So until I figure out the best way to include some kind of link to what I’m reading, I figured I’d just blog about it.

First up is what I’m currently reading, which is Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman.

I’m glad I didn’t know about this book before as at first glance it seems to be at least a cousin to Fated, my next novel, in that God and Death and a number of other immortal entities are characters.  Not sure if that’s where the similarities end, but I’m definitely looking forward to finding out.

Although I try to devour a couple of books a month, I’m a little behind, but so far in 2009 I’ve consumed:

Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill
The Road by Cormac McCarthy
World War Z by Max Brooks
Fool by Christopher Moore
Jailbait Zombie by Mario Acevedo
Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen
Patient Zero by Jonathan Maberry
American Gods by Neil Gaiman
Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn
Something Missing by Matthew Dicks
Pygmy by Chuck Palahniuk
The Deportees and Other Stories by Roddy Doyle
Post Office by Charles Bukowski
Beat the Reaper by Josh Bazell
The Black Dahlia by James Ellroy
Out of Sight by Elmore Leonard
In the Woods by Tana French

The reads I enjoyed the most were Water for Elephants, Beat the Reaper, and Fool, though both In the Woods and Sharp Objects had such believable characters and page-turning plots that they have to be included in the top five.

The most disappointing reads were Something Missing and Pygmy – the first because I just couldn’t seem to get caught up in the story or the character and the second because, well, the broken English of the protagonist used throughout the entire novel prevented me from enjoying the narrative. I appreciate what Palahniuk was trying to do and applaud the message of the novel, but if it had been any other author, I would have put it down before the fifty-page mark.

If I had to pick a favorite so far this year, it would be Water for Elephants.  Great narrative and style, compelling story, wonderful characters and setting, and a protagonist you genuinely cared about.

Favorite book of all time? There’s a handful that would be in the running:

Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk
The Stand by Stephen King
The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald
Cat’s Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut

But if I had to choose one book to read over and over, my desert island novel would be, ironically, Lord of the Flies by William Golding.

So long as I had the conch.

People are always asking me about zombies:

Have you always loved zombies?
Do you think you’ll survive the zombie apocalypse?
Is it necrophilia if you’re both dead?

In case you’re curious, the answers are:

Yes.
No.
Probably not.

Truth is, I’m not an authority on zombie sex. However, I do know a lot about sloughage, frothy purge, and cadaver impact testing.

For some reason, this troubles my parents.

But the one question that seems to come up most often is:

Why do you think zombies are so popular right now?

I hear a lot of people saying that the current mainstream popularity of zombies is a direct reflection of global fears regarding the economy and terrorism. Horror as catharsis for the fears and anxiety of a society making commentary on itself. They contend that zombies are the proletarians of the monster hierarchy and in troubled economic times, they become the poster child for the financial ills of a nation. An allegory for the end of the world as we know it.

Me? I’m not drinking the Kool-Aid. I don’t believe the current surge in zombie popularity has anything to do with a reflection of global or economic fears. And I sure as hell didn’t write Breathers because I was concerned about terrorists or my IRA.

Truth is, I think people have a tendency to apply social context where it doesn’t exist.

After all, where was the zombie mania during other major crises or catastrophes of the 20th century? Like the Vietnam War? Or Watergate? How about the Iranian Hostage Crisis? The Stock Market crash of 1987? The Persian Gulf War? The election of George W. Bush?

It didn’t exist. Not on this scale.

So what happened to make them so popular today? I’ll tell you what happened. Zombies were taken out of their proverbial archetypal box. No longer are they just the shambling, mindless, flesh-eating ghouls we’ve known and loved for most of the part four decades. They’ve expanded their range, become more versatile. More well-rounded. And who doesn’t enjoy a well-rounded zombie?

28 Days Later and the Dawn of the Dead remake made them faster. Shaun of the Dead and Zombieland made them funnier. Fido made them domesticated.

Meanwhile, zombie fiction developed into a solid sub-genre, getting its start in 1990 with the publication of the John Skipp and Craig Spector anthology Book of the Dead. Prior to that, zombie literature didn’t really exist and it didn’t really explode until this decade.

The new millennium brought with it a surge of zombie fiction, including, among others, The Zombie Survival Guide and World War Z (Max Brooks), The Rising (Brian Keene), Monster Island (David Wellington), Cell (Stephen King), Patient Zero (Jonathan Maberry), Day By Day Armageddon (J.L. Bourne), Happy Hour of the Damned (Mark Henry), Breathers, and of course, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith).

Not to mention all of the YA titles, like The Forest of Hands and Teeth (Carrie Ryan), Generation Dead (Daniel Waters), Zombie Queen of Newbury High (Amanda Ashby), and You Are So Undead To Me (Stacey Jay).

Young adult readers aren’t eating these up because they’re afraid of what’s happening to their 401k’s or if some terrorist is going to board their plane. They’re reading about zombies because they’re fun and scary and entertaining.

Truth is, today’s zombies are faster. Funnier. Sentient.

In addition to running like Olympic sprinters, being domesticated as pets, and fighting for their civil rights, modern zombies write haiku, perform household chores, and are used as terrorist weapons. They can also be found on the Internet going to marriage counseling, falling in love, and singing to their former co-workers about how they want to eat their brains.

That’s why zombies are so popular today. To misquote Bill Clinton, it’s not the economy, stupid. It’s the fact that they’re branching out and discovering that undeath isn’t just about decomposing and eating brains anymore.

I have to admit, I don’t watch a lot of television.  I used to.  As a kid, that was all I would do.

My friends playing outside?
Television.
My mom going to the toy store?
Television.
Ice cream man coming down the street?
Television.

Now, I don’t even have basic cable.  I have basic LIMITED cable, which means I don’t get TNT, TBS, USA, ESPN, ESPN2, Comedy Central, a surplus of 24-hour news channels regurgitating the same crap, or the option to do Pay-Per-View.  However, I do get F/X, TV Land, the Travel Channel, the Discovery Channel, and all of the major networks, which is important since the only program I regularly watch is LOST.  And all for the low, low monthly price of $21 and change.

Why is this important?  I don’t know.  But I do know that if I had ESPN, I’d be watching SportsCenter right now instead of writing this blog.

However, I watch enough television to realize how much more you can get away with today than you could when I was a kid.  In addition to the increase in sex and violence, you can call someone a bitch, a whore, an asshole, and a butt pirate, among other names.  You can say someone has balls, has big balls, or needs to grow some balls.  You can even call someone a dick.

“He’s a dick.”
“Don’t be a dick.”
“You’re such a dickwad.”

This never would have made it on network television in the 1970′s.  Probably not in the 1980′s, either.  Maybe the 1990′s, but I think South Park has helped with that.  And just to be clear, I Iove South Park, though I don’t get to watch it on TV anymore because I don’t get Comedy Central.  I think it’s on the WB, but edited, and that’s like watching Goodfellas on TBS.

Anyway, apparently “dick” and “balls” are okay now, though neither one is on the list of seven dirty words George Carlin mentioned in his famous bit about what you can’t say on television, which he originally mentioned in 1972.  Of course, this list doesn’t hold up for pay television.  But for the most part, the words Carlin listed remain taboo today for broadcast television, even if they aren’t officially listed by the FCC, which takes context into account when determining whether use of a word is vulgar or inappropriate.

What I’ve found interesting, however, is that while “dick” and “balls” have appeared with more regularity and acceptance over the past few years, “pussy” and “tits” aren’t given the same leeway. I’ve even seen numerous instances where the words have been bleeped out.

“Don’t be a pussy.”
“He’s such a pussy.”
And pretty much any instance where the word “tits” is used instead of “breasts” or “bosom” or “mammary glands.” (Of course, “tits” is one of Carlin’s seven words.)

In most cases, these words aren’t used in conversations with overtly sexual connotations, so the censorship seems unwarranted.  After all, why is it okay to call someone a dick on network television but not a pussy?  Or to say that someone needs to grow some balls but not that they’re planning to get a new set of tits?  And really, what’s so wrong with saying “tits?” If you can say “ass” instead of “butt,” then why can’t you say “tits” instead of “breasts?”

I don’t know.  Maybe I’m wrong.  Maybe it’s just me.  Maybe I don’t watch enough television to comment on the FCC’s apparent acceptance of the pejorative use of male genitalia in network television conversation while prohibiting the same usage of the female anatomy.

No big deal?  A double standard?  Female sexuality being made taboo?  Do I need to watch more television?

What do you think?