For those of you involved in my Patreon campaign (Patreon.com/SeanHoade) know that the next book coming to you is my serialized novel, Cal Longwood: Porn Star Detective. The first chapter is titled “Eleven Inches From Heaven,” and is essentially the “origin story” for my massively endowed noir sleuth.
Although I have had 5 books out now, I did the cover design for all of them myself. I had a wonderful artist draw the cover for my short-story collection Inappropriate Behavior according to my specifications, but other than that, it’s been all me and Photoshop.
Caution: This post is about the realities of what a zombie apocalypse would entail, and how someone like me represents those realities in his fiction. This subject was inspired by a negative review of Reviva Las Vegas!, but it is only tangentially related to that review.
Read Part One
Both of my blog followers may recall that yesterday I came to the conclusion that a bad review—as well as some mitigating comments in some good reviews—of my new novel, Reviva Las Vegas!, may have been caused by the extremely dark view of mankind (not to mention zombiekind) in the face of a true zombie apocalypse.
Nota Bene: This post is about the realities of what a zombie apocalypse would entail, and how someone like me represents those realities in his fiction. This subject was inspired by a negative review of Know When to Run, but it is only tangentially related to that review.
The (awesome) book in question.
Gentle Reader, I have received my first really negative review. It was from another writer, and someone I respect, and it was shared in the most thoughtful and anonymous way possible. This reviewer is NOT a hater; please don’t harass him. It was mentioned briefly in his (very entertaining) roundup of CthulhuCon PDX:
Welcome to a new feature here on The World’s Greatest Blog In The World: “Lyrics Made Relatable.” I do this because, seriously, we don’t all live a posh, J.Lo / Diddy / Weird Al kind of lifestyle, and most of us can’t relate to post-apocalyptic or mushy love songs, neither. In the words of Benedict Cumberbatch, “Shall we begin?” And in the words of me, “Yes.”
I really love the song “Thirteen,” written by Dan Zig and first recorded by Johnny Cash. I like the Dan Zig-sung version even more, because Mr. Zig actually sounds like he’s this Mad Max-type badass with no soul and Mr. Cash sounds like he’s reading the lyrics off a piece of paper during a tent revival, the preacher who’s tasted evil but rejected it.
Hi. May I just say one quick thing?
Ahem. Thank you. To discover the source of my excitement, please check out the screenshot of the NecronomiCon “Guests” Web page. A subtle arrow has been added to direct you (you’re welcome).