INTERVIEW: Mira Grant, author of “Everglades”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
“Everglades” is about that moment that I’ve always assumed would have to come in the middle of any sort of siege–the moment where the adrenaline gives out, and you have to figure out whether you’re willing to live in the world of the aftermath. It’s about the inevitability of natural selection. And it’s about alligators.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
I was thinking about the day the zombies come, and the way that everyone either divides themselves into “hero” or “cannon fodder.” It got me wondering, how many people would you have who weren’t either? Who just sort of stumbled into survival, and then couldn’t hack it?
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
Weirdly enough, no. I really love the UC Berkeley campus, and it was very easy to sort of see the structure the survivors would build as they waited for salvation. I think the hardest thing was remembering that it was early days of the Rising, and not going too far into the reasons that the dead were walking. It didn’t matter to the story.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
I was a UC Berkeley student, and we’re the sort of school where school pride probably would make it through the zombie apocalypse, even if we had to cancel a few home games. I’ve always had a passion for reptiles and virology, which gets you looked at sort of funny when you’re a perky little blonde girl…and one of the most chilling things I’ve ever done was go into the Florida Everglades to see the gators. That sort of thing really makes you realize that Nature has things much more efficiently designed to survive than we are. We’re just blinks of an eye to the alligator.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
This is sort of a trick question–see, “Everglades” is set in the universe of my Newsflesh trilogy (Feed, Blackout, and Deadline), just about twenty-five years earlier. For the Newsflesh books, I had to consult with several virologists, some climatologists and meteorologists, and subject matter experts on about a dozen other subjects, just to get things into the shape they needed to be in. “Everglades” didn’t take any specific research, because all the research was already done.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
I hear people say that zombies are the “guiltless” monster. Vampires are supposed to be sexy now; werewolves are under a curse; even the slashers usually have some sort of a motive. The zombies are just there to make you die, and that makes it okay to kill them with cheery abandon. I think a lot of the appeal is the flexibility of the archetype–fast, slow, smart, brainless, the zombie can be whatever you need it to be in order to make the point you’re trying to make. Most of all, the zombie is a completely democratic monster. Anyone can become a zombie. Anyone can be eaten. When the zombies come, all the borders between us dissolve, and it’s just humanity versus a monster we don’t need to feel bad about destroying. Writing about zombies is exciting because it’s an opportunity to write about people boiled down to their inner core, without worrying about morality about what they’re doing.
Also, it’s a great excuse for chainsaws. Everybody loves a good chainsaw.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Let’s mix-and-match literature and film, just for the sake of balance. I loved The Living Dead, of course, since it managed to collect a lot of my favorite stories about the undead; I also really, really enjoyed World War Z, Patient Zero, and Monster Island. All four of those were intellectual approaches to the zombie issue, for the most part, and they all had their strengths; I’m a big virus nut, so I really appreciated the science in Patient Zero, and the human psychology in WWZ.
Moving on to film, I love Resident Evil and Resident Evil 2 for being zombie chick flicks, Zombieland and Shaun of the Dead for being zombie date movies, and Slither for being my favorite zombie movie of all time. And, in the final category of “no, really,” Evil Dead the Musical. Nothing makes me happy like a man with a chainsaw hand belting out songs about destroying the forces of undead evil.
INTERVIEW: Steven Gould, author of “Tameshigiri”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
It’s about a sword sensei who takes three of his students outside their fortified township to look for his best student, missing for two weeks in the zombie occupied lands. And also cut up zombies. For practice.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
I made the mistake of saying on Twitter something like “Ninja’s awesome. Zombies awesome. Ninjas AND Zombies? DOUBLE AWESOME!” John saw it and direct messaged me asking if I was writing such a thing. I wasn’t but I said that I could.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
I started it on Thursday and Finished it on Monday. The worst thing about it was that I would lie awake at night wondering what it was really about. I woke up on Sunday and knew.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
I’ve been studying Iaido (Japanese sword as a martial art) for over twelve years. The relationship between Rosa and her Sensei feels real to me.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
Fortunately, as I said, not that much. I did stand out in the middle of my backyard with a bokken (wooden sword) for a while, working on some of the moves.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
The scary thing about zombies, slow or fast, is that there will always be more. It doesn’t matter how many you kill, eventually more will arrive. Also, often they were people you knew before the rose or turned or were infected, etc. And that is especially creepy. Zombies are a palpable, biting representation of our own mortality. And mortality stinks. And it has rotting flesh.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
I was particularly charmed by the recent film Zombieland. Also, the classic Dawn of the Dead. Zombies in a mall is just like real life.
INTERVIEW: S. G. Browne, author of “Zombie Gigolo”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
It’s a slice of life story about a reanimated corpse who provides a sexual service for other reanimated corpses and the unique issues he has to deal with. Like sloughage and maggots and body cavities that burst at inopportune moments.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
I wrote “Zombie Gigolo” as my entry into the Gross Out Contest at the World Horror Convention at Salt Lake City in 2008. I’d just sold my debut novel Breathers and decided to take a couple of ideas from that and ratchet them up viscerally. This is what I came up with. I never actually expected it to see print.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
It was challenging in the sense that it had to be between 3-5 minutes in length when read aloud for the contest, so I had to be frugal with my words, maintain a decent gross out factor, and cut out anything that didn’t move the story fast enough. I’d also never written anything to be performed competitively before. And in case you’re wondering, it took third place.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
Um…um…
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
I don’t think I can share that without going to prison. Or at least upsetting my mother.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
I think zombie fiction is appealing because zombies used to be us. And we’re just one bite or infected wound away from becoming one of them. I also believe they’re experiencing their current popularity because they’re no longer just the mindless, shambling ghouls we’ve known and loved for the past forty years. They’re faster. Funnier. Sentient. Plus there’s this constant fascination with the inevitability of a zombie apocalypse. I mean, no one ever talks about the werewolf apocalypse. That would be ridiculous.
As for my own decision to write about them, my novel and two short stories were written with the intention of showing a different size to zombies. Giving them sentience. Viewing the world through their eyes and what they have to deal with. When you think about it, most zombie film and fiction is really about the people rather than the zombies. My fiction is about the zombies.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Although this might sound a bit incestuous, I would have to say I tend to lean toward zombie anthologies, like The Book of the Dead or the original The Living Dead. I enjoy them because of the diverse takes on the zombie mythology I can find all in one place.
INTERVIEW: Kelley Armstrong, author of “Last Stand”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
“Last Stand” tells a fairly typical story of a small group of post-zombie infection survivors. Or, at least, it seems fairly typical at first…
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
I love zombie movies, and I wanted to play with one of the genre tropes–the last band of fighters, struggling for survival.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
Some stories come hard, and some flow quickly. This one really flowed for me.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
Well, I’m the oddball then. Most of my stories aren’t overly personal. The only personal aspect here is my own love of zombie movies. Sorry!
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
None for this one. I’ve been writing paranormal fiction for so long that when I do research, it’s only for settings or technology, neither of which played a role in this story.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
The appeal for me–and presumably for some readers/viewers–is two-fold. First, it’s the ultimate threat–the endless undead horde that you can’t kill. They’re essentially human (not hundred foot tall monsters or killer bees) but you can’t really fight them. They’re hard to kill and even when you do, more take their place. Second, they allow us to explore our own death fears. For some, they’re a very literal symbol of death–mindless, relentless, inescapable. For me, I explore that idea through actual zombification. Being a zombie would be a living death. In my book series, a zombie is a fully cognizant human soul trapped in its rotting corpse. In this story, I’ve taken it from another angle.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Brian Keene’s The Rising because it takes a familiar concept–the zombie apocalypse–and manages to make it seem fresh and original. David Wellington’s Monster Island because, again, we see the zombie apocalypse taken in a new direction, with page-turning results.
INTERVIEW: Karina Sumner-Smith, author of “When the Zombies Win”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
“When the Zombies Win” is about what comes after humanity’s fall to the zombie plague. Some stories assume that humankind has little chance of survival if the dead were to rise–but what happens to the world when it’s inhabited only by zombies?
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
In a discussion about the apocalypse, I joked that someone should write a story set after everyone has been eaten or turned into zombies. What would the zombies eat? What would they do when there’s no one left to infect? Then I paused (in that way that writers have), and said, “You know, that’s not a bad idea …”
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
This was a slow story to write, written in fragments in over a number of months. It felt more like assembling a jigsaw puzzle from sentences and paragraphs than writing a story–followed by weeks of obsessive nit-picking and polishing. Even now, I can’t read it without wanting to edit.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
Once I’d considered the consequences, a total zombie apocalypse seemed not horrific, nor comedic, but tragic. It’s not just that everyone has died, but that we have died and yet continue to stumble through the ruins of our world with no way to understand or acknowledge what’s happened, or mourn the loss of everything we once were.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
None. (Feels like that’s some kind of writerly faux pas…)
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
Unlike other “monsters,” like vampires and werewolves, it’s harder to turn a ravenous, decaying, animated corpse into the desirable hero of a paranormal romance. Zombies are still scary. I think that there’s an also an appeal to gore in a context where violence is always justified, the enemy can never be helped or healed, and a human-shaped being can be destroyed without pause or remorse.
For myself, I’ve always loved apocalyptic stories. I think that just as many stories use big life events (accidents and illness, births, divorce, falling in love) to examine what it means to be human, so too can apocalyptic fiction use the threatened or actual end of civilization to cast light on the greater workings of our culture and society. What do we do when everything’s falling apart? Who are we at the end of all things?
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
I was captivated by Max Brooks’ World War Z, in no small part because it was so unexpected. What I thought would be a fun, B-movie of a book had a lot more depth and complexity–it was, truly, a war memorial. While I’d enjoyed works that focused on the shock and horror of zombies, I found that this was the first novel-length work of zombie fiction in which I’d found a powerful emotional resonance.
INTERVIEW: Joe McKinney, author of “Dating in the Dead World”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
It’s been almost twenty years since Hurricane Mardell swept through Houston, flooding the city and giving birth to a virus that turns the living into the walking dead. The world has been overrun by zombies and left in ruin. But there are still groups of people left alive, and they are carving out an existence in the wasteland.
Some of the survivors have moved into protective compounds, but Andrew Hudson wasn’t lucky enough to grow up in one of those. He was raised as a street urchin out in the ruins of San Antonio, where he makes a living as a special courier between the strongholds of the dead world’s warlords. During one of those runs he had the good fortune to meet the daughter of the area’s most powerful warlord, and he won her heart.
Now, they’re going on their first date. How hard could that be, right? Kids have been dating forever. Well, when taking your date out involves high speed pursuits through zombie-infested ruins and being used as pawns in an underhanded power grab scheme, nothing is as easy as it seems.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
“Dating in the Dead World” was written right about the same time that Kensington Publishing came asking me to do another zombie book. I had made a few readers mad with the ending to Dead City, and I wanted to address the criticism before I went on with the rest of the series.
The first person narrator of Dead City is a police officer named Eddie Hudson. The thing to remember about Eddie Hudson is that he is not a reliable reporter. Most people get that wrong about him. He’s deeply fractured by the events he recounts in the novel, and the optimism he expresses at the end of the story is…well, let’s just say he’s not telling you everything. He’s telling you about the world he wants to believe in, not the world as it really is. “Dating in the Dead World” came from that issue. And because “Dating in the Dead World” was written to refute Eddie Hudson’s optimism, the logical lead for the story was Eddie’s son, Andrew Hudson. So this story really becomes as much a conversation between father and son as it does a commentary on the Dead City series itself.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
“Dating in the Dead World” came surprisingly easy. After I finish a novel, I’m usually struck by a sort of separation anxiety. So much mental effort is put into world building and getting to know the characters that it seems a shame to simply cut and run. I personally have a hard time leaving it all behind. So what I usually do is write a few short stories set in the world of the novel I’ve just finished. They don’t always involve the same characters, or even take place at exactly the same time, but they all help me, in their own way, go on to the next book. “Dating in the Dead World” was a part of that process, and because I knew the world of the story already, the story developed without a lot of birthing pains.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
Personal accountability is a big deal for me. I don’t respect a person who can’t accept responsibility for your actions. That’s something I learned from my dad, and something I’ll always be thankful for.
But he also gave me a related piece of advice. Right before I left for my first date, he gave me the only bit of parental sex education I ever received. “Remember this,” he said. “You will be held personally accountable for everything that happens to that girl from the moment she leaves her front door to the moment she walks back in it. Conduct yourself accordingly.”
It wasn’t until after I’d written “Dating in the Dead World” that I realized I was channeling that advice. I guess it took.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
Well, the “world” of this story was one I already knew quite well, but I did do research on the use of cadaver dogs, and on building protective compounds. Believe it or not, there’s a lot of material out there on how to create your own fortress to guard against the end of the world. To me, that’s almost as scary as the end of the world itself, you know?
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
I bet there are a million answers to this question. I imagine at least a few zombie fans see the genre as the safe way to fulfill a world destruction fantasy. After all, what better way to express our fears of society’s ills and our collective self-loathing for the mess we’ve made of things than to turn the idiots responsible into zombies. But I think the lasting appeal of the genre has to go beyond the simple urge to destroy. And in that sense, zombies are really part of the larger scope of apocalyptic fiction, which is, ironically enough, life-affirming in the end. These are stories about survival, after all. These are stories about life holding on, no matter how bad things get. The world may be ruined; the dead may be gaining ground; hope may be a snow ball sweating away in hell–but still we fight on. And isn’t that why we love these stories? What fun would it be if we had an apocalypse and we didn’t get to live through it?
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Metaphorically speaking, zombies are blank slates. That’s been said enough times by now that just about everybody gets it. You can make the subtext of a zombie story about anything you want. George Romero did that with racism in the original Night of the Living Dead, for example. I love zombie fiction because it’s so flexible that way. They can be symbols of profound loss and grief, and our inability to completely process those emotions, as they are in Dan Simmons’ “This Year’s Class Picture,” or cautionary warnings about the dangers of conformity, as in Adam Troy-Castro’s “Dead Like Me,” or even joyful symbols of the redemptive power of love, as in Joe Hill’s “Bobby Conroy Comes Back from the Dead.” They are, potentially, all over the map, just waiting for a message to get imprinted.
INTERVIEW: Jamie Lackey, author of “The Other Side”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
It’s about high school students almost twenty years after a zombie apocalypse. And unrequited love.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
I wanted to write a different kind of zombie story, and I started thinking how the world would be different if there were zombies, but they’d been driven back decades ago. The zombies might still be a threat, biding their time, waiting to strike again, or they could have all rotted away without anyone noticing.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
The narrator’s conversational tone was actually pretty easy to write, but when I’d finished my first draft I had no objective idea if the story was good or terrible. I was a little afraid to show it to my writing group.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
The emotions in the story are what make it personal to me–the need to fit in, the fear, and in the end, the sorrow and regret.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
I didn’t have to do much research.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
Zombies are just fun. Plus, they are terrifying because there’s the very real threat of the characters becomming infected and losing themselves to something so much worse than death.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Night of the Living Dead is a classic. 28 Days Later is one of my favorite zombie movies, and Zombieland was a lot of fun.
INTERVIEW: Genevieve Valentine, author of “And the Next, and the Next”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
“And the Next, and the Next” is a story about being smart enough to survive the zombie apocalypse, not realizing there’s nowhere left to go, and how people are given to patterns that pass for lives, even if your undead brain is sloshing around like tapioca pudding.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
If you live in New York long enough, zombie stories begin to seem less like science fiction and more like your commute. Visiting Coney Island and seeing people milling around unenthusiastically participating in the Mandated Family Amusement-Park Experience was a lot more off-putting than I thought at the time, since this was the story that came out of it.
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
I think it’s common knowledge that the human body is pretty disgusting, so the research went quickly.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
Zombies are one of the best metaphors for hopeless conditions–even after they win and eat everyone’s brains, they’re still going to die. Brain-eating aside, they’re really tragic figures in the classic sense: their doom is sealed, and they don’t know it yet.
Plus, zombies are a pretty handy metaphor in general, since they’re a mindless yet overwhelming force that can be applied to mean just about anything you want. Want to talk about materialism? Put them in a mall! Want to talk about man’s essential helplessness? Stick him in a cabin and turn them loose! Class tensions, psychological drama, feel-good comedy: zombies always have a place at the table.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
28 Days Later is a prime example, because it nearly subverts the zombie metaphor by making the zombies an obstacle and making other humans the real monsters. (Rare is the movie where the respite from zombies is more frightening than fighting them.) It also paints them as victims, which gives them a sympathetic undertone, especially when they’re set up alongside a manor house full of soldiers intent on forcibly repopulating the world. It’s a visceral movie with a pretty deft hand, and one of the best uses of zombies ever.
INTERVIEW: Gary Braunbeck, author of “We Now Pause For Station Identification”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
Initially it’s about a talk-radio dj who’s been holed up in his broadcast booth for several days while the zombie plague worsens. He keeps broadcasting in hopes that someone who’s still alive out there will contact him. There’s a sea-change moment about halfway through his rambling monologue when he reveals what the zombies really want, and what they do once they reach a place of remembered happiness. Ultimately the story concerns itself with the ability of the human sprit to maintain compassion and dignity in the face of a hopeless situation.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
Brian Keene sent me an ARC of The Rising several months before the novel was to be released and asked me if I’d read it and possibly provide a blurb (which I did). There’s a throwaway line early in the novel that mentions how one of the main characters listened to a radio dj go nuts and commit suicide on-air. That little piece of peripheral information–a lot of The Rising’s readers don’t even remember this bit–stayed with me; so, finally, I asked Brian if he planned to do anything with that idea. He said he’d all but forgotten about that moment and that he had no plans of using it. I asked if he’d mind if I took the initial idea and ran with it, and Brian gave me his blessing–which is why the story is dedicated to him.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
Once I was able to establish the cadence of the narrator’s voice, the story almost wrote itself. The difficulty early on was establishing that cadence. Most talk-radio DJs have distinct speech patterns–compare, say, Howard Stern with Rush Limbaugh, and you’ll immediately hear the difference in the rhythm of their speech–but here, not only did the narrator’s individual cadence have to be established, it had to start disintegrating–naturally disintegrating–at the same rate as the narrator’s mind.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
In this case, it dealt with, simply, having to face death alone and discovering the only companionship available is a memory filled with regret and despair.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
For the record, I have written only 4 zombie-/the living dead-themed stories. I can’t see any point in writing a zombie story if it’s only going to be the same old rehash of something from a Romero film. I think the appeal to readers is the cathartic release of the graphic violence often contained in the stories; the reader is powerless to express his or her own anger, frustration, and fury at the faceless entities that control much of their waking existence, so it’s a genuine release to read a 300-page novel where those faceless entities are given physical form and serve only one purpose: to be destroyed as violently as possible.
I also think it’s a way for readers to fight off (metaphorically, anyway) the inevitability of their own deaths; kill a zombie, live an extra day.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Dan Simmons’s “The River Styx Runs Upstream” and “This Year’s Class Picture” are standouts because he concentrates on the emotional pain experienced by the survivors, thus making the acts of violence toward the end all the more powerful and heartbreaking. Ed Bryant’s award-winning “A Sad Last Love at the Diner of the Damned” manages to be terrifying, funny, grotesque, romantic, and heart-wrenching all at the same time — not an easy feat; it’s the type of story that, once you’ve read it, you find yourself wishing you’d written it instead. Joe Lansdale’s “On the Far Side of the Cadillac Desert With Dead Folks” has achieved the status of “modern-day classic”–a term that, when you think about it, is utterly meaningless, but doesn’t detract one whit from the balls-to-the-wall brilliance of the novella, which is the kind of story only Lansdale could have written. The same goes for David J. Schow’s “Jerry’s Kids Meet Wormboy”–a nasty, viciously satirical piece of work, with a cadence that reads like it was written by Jack Kerouac while he listening to Tangerine Dream; Poppy Z. Brite’s “Calcutta, Lord of Nerves,” an exquisite tale that makes death, decay, and putrescence utterly and disturbingly seductive; in short, if it’s a story wherein a new spin is given to the traditional zombie tale, I’m all over it.
INTERVIEW: David Wellington, author of “Good People”
Tell us a bit about your story. What’s it about?
This is a stripped down zombie story, getting back to the basics. A bunch of survivors, and what they’re willing to do to make it. It’s about smart, caring people and the horrible things they have to do after the end of the world.
What was the genesis of the story–what was the inspiration for it, or what prompted you to write it?
This was an idea I had a while back while working on my Monster Island series of books. The novels focused on smart zombies, and super powers, and the epic battle for the future of humanity… but I never got to explore what the normal people were going through, the ones who had access to nothing but their own wits.
Was this story a particularly challenging one to write? If so, how?
I had to go to some pretty dark places to get inside the heads of these characters. Then I had to work backwards, to figure out how they became who they are.
Most authors say all their stories are personal. If that’s true for you, in what way was this story personal to you?
I always think I’m making these things up out of thin air, that I’m imagining a completely fictional world. It’s only later, sometimes a long time later, that I realize the characters are all facets of my self. Ask me again in six months!
What kind of research did you have to do for the story?
I like to get the geography right in my stories. I had to do a lot of map searches to figure out where this story was happening, and what the landscape would look like. Most of the story, though, is about the people involved, and most of the research I did was internal, into their psychology.
What is the appeal of zombie fiction? Why do so many writers–or you yourself–write about it? Why do readers and film viewers love it so much?
Zombies are contemporary monsters. They aren’t loaded down with a lot of 19th century values and fears–they appeal to the people of today.
What are some of your favorite examples of zombie fiction, and what makes them your favorites?
Night of the Living Dead is in many ways the ur text of zombie stories, and it’s still my favorite. Wait–that’s a movie! As for fiction, I’ve always loved Brian Keene’s stuff.
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