Zombie Apocolypse

Somewhere I read that writers are supposed to write everyday. I read it on the internet, so it must be true.

Right now, I’m stuck on GO. Start on Book 2 or work on the Short Story between Books 1 & 2? The advantage Book 2 has over the SS is that I already “know” those characters. The disadvantage is that I know them so well that I’m tired of them.

When I’m bored I usually either eat too much or think too much. Some days I go all out and do both. Like today.

It started when Amazon faked me out with a “NEW BOOK from Favorite Author” email. Pre-order scam. But I was already on their page and did a search for “bestseller.” Did you know some people put “Bestseller” in the Title of their book? Me, neither. Pretty slick ploy if you ask me.

Since re-re-re-re-re-re-re-committing to the budget (kind of like my diet history), I didn’t order any books, but did browse the blurbs of what books people were buying in the YA category.  Looks like lots of zombies.

I’m not even going to think about the subliminal message using THIS particular zombi poster sends.

So books about a zombie apocolypse lead me to thinking about survival. I’m pretty sure that not only am I not prepared to fight it out with the undead, I don’t think I’d even want to.

Somehow living in an underground bunker with my nearest and dearest, subsisting on rabbit stew and poke salad with no toilet paper just doesn’t sound like my kind of living. Call me crazy.

I’m not really concerned about zombies. West Nile, Swine Flu, Bird Flu, EMP detonation, those bother me.  Especially when I get a special flyer in the mail about bird flu and I live in close proximity to one of the largest chicken (bird) processing plants in the nation.

When I worked at the bank, I was in charge of Disaster Recovery. My JOB was to think of the worst thing that could happen and then prepare for that (I must say that was a natural fit for me.) I tried to convince Mike that we needed a satellite phone for the bank– because they still work even after going through the digestive tract of a dinosaur (I saw it in a movie so it must be true), but he wasn’t buying it. The phone or the dinosaur story.

So, I had to incapacitate him in a smoky stairwell and leave him for the fire department to rescue.

Not IRL (in real life). In a preparedness practice scenario I wrote. Gotta watch out for those writers ;-).

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About oldhwysixwest

I'm currently pursuing a PhD in accounting at LSU. I also write fiction when I can (usually 4 am).
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