Throwback Thursday: Best ‘witches’ for the happy birthday ghoul

(Originally published Sunday, October 31, 2010 in The News Herald.)

She arrived squalling in the dark and early hours of a Halloween morning, an absolute treat after a frightening and tricky delivery, our own tiny gremlin. Later that day, a boy dressed as the Flash gave her a kiss — through his face mask — before zooming off to trick-or-treat.

She has worn many costumes in the 19 (all too short) years since then: baby pumpkin, fairy-tale princess, pink Power Ranger, witch, Indian princess, police officer, Dorothy Gale, gangster moll and many more. She’s even been known to create a costume and makeup out of boredom (see above).

She won a prize in a sci-fi convention costume contest one year for the Star Trek outfit we dressed her in — mostly because she was an awfully cute 4-year-old at the time. The grownups in their expensive “uniforms” were not amused.

Over the years, we developed a tradition of taking the birthday ghoul out to eat before going trick-or-treating; the whole family would wear costumes to whatever restaurant she chose. That came to an end the year I wore a Star Trek costume and everyone in the joint came by the table to make jokes.


She absolutely refused to let me wear a Mr. Fantastic outfit a couple of years back, but that might have had more to do with the way my gut stretched the fabric.

I suppose there’s only so much humiliation a young woman will endure from her father.

For the last few years, she has wandered the neighborhoods of the Hammocks in Lynn Haven with her friends and has hauled home loads of candy — so we’re a little disappointed that she has finally decided she’s “too old” for trick-or-treating. Looks like we’ll have to hit the after-Halloween sales on All Souls Day.


All this is to say that, no matter what outward outfit she wears or how many Halloweens she has seen, she’ll always be our little monster under the surface.

Happy Halloween!

Free Zombie Stories!

TALES OF THE AWAKENING DEAD is free for Kindle devices and apps for Halloween weekend, Oct. 31-Nov.2.

That's ten solid short stories that explore all kinds of zombies, including the first chapter of my upcoming novel, This Mortal Flesh.

Don't have a Kindle? No problem.

If you're using a computer, just download the FREE app for your operating system.

There are also free apps for smartphones.

And if you like the book, leave a review. Check out my other stuff. And share the disease.

Meanwhile, here's the book trailer:

Life among the living dead

Chris Oneisom and Jennifer Creamer pose in zombie makeup before taking the stage for “Night of the Living Dead.”

LYNN HAVEN — They may have been coming to get Barbara, if you recall the old movie line, but the living dead I hung out with last Friday were mostly just ... walking.

Oh, they hissed and moaned. They growled from time to time, and pounded on the walls. And if a couple fought off smiles as they shuffled and limped behind the windows of the set, that might be expected.

I was invited to perform among the legion of the living dead as a “celebrity guest zombie” at the opening night of Kaleidoscope Theatre’s presentation of “Night of the Living Dead.” Before the double feature started, I signed some of my books for unsuspecting readers in the lobby, but as soon as “Hecate Hill” began — the first play of  the night’s show — I headed for the makeup room.

(The plays continue each weekend through Oct. 26, and I will be signing books before each Friday show.)

I was excited to participate. I’ve done one other community play in my adult life — Shakespeare By The Bay’s “Othello” in 2006 — and for the first time had a role that might not exceed my acting ability, which is best described as lifeless and monotone.

Daniel and his clown.

Daniel Gehrken, who also designed the promotional posters for the plays, spent about an hour finger-painting my face in shades of gray, blue and purple, before dripping blood from my eyes and smearing bloody handprints on my T-shirt. He said there was no extra charge for the face massage.

Some of the other zombies in the mob had neat prosthetic appliances that gave them the look of terrible injuries. Others had specific costumes — a cheerleader, a Girl Scout, a prom queen — and some, like Jennifer Creamer’s “bride” character, had both.

Daniel pronounced me an evil clown zombie, which made fellow zombie Madison Leighann Googe order me not to look at her. She had no difficulty stalking about with a zombie baby tearing its way through her abdomen, but she drew the line at evil clowns.

Zombie Master Chris Oneisom (or as I like to think of him, “He Who Walks Behind The Sets”) paired me with a zombie buddy, Juliet, who showed me how to shamble and indicated that there would be various times during the play when we would be expected to be louder, or quieter, depending on what else was happening on stage.

Juliet, at right.

When she sat and hid, I sat and hid. When she pounded on the walls, I pounded on the walls. When she got out of the way of starring performers running through, I got confused and almost run over.

Twice, while lurking in the background, zombies whispered to me that I could take a break by dragging myself off-stage for some water and air if I needed it. I took that to mean my makeup was impressive enough to fool the other zombies into thinking I was in a state of advanced decomposition — or at least, I looked like death warmed over.

None of this could help me in the closing dance routine, however. The best I could manage was to look befuddled, which is how I tend to look whenever anyone suggests dancing.

(Rest in) Peace. 

Ramona Hagan, left, won the grab-bag giveaway at Kaleidoscope Theatre in Lynn Haven last Friday. A season-ticket patron, she was sitting in the seat number randomly chosen by the author, shown in his zombie makeup. She received a graphic novel, DVD, comic book, paperback, and a copy of my collection of zombie short stories, “Tales of the Awakening Dead.”

(This was my Undercurrents column for this week at PanamaCity.com and in The News Herald.)

Requiem for the Restless Dead

(Note to regular readers: Some portions of this column for PanamaCity.com and The News Herald were "borrowed" from an earlier blog. Self-cannibalism is my life.)

Little PC Zombie Walkers

PANAMA CITY — Apropos of All Hallows Eve on Thursday and Saturday’s status as Day of the Dead, let’s talk about this whole “zombie” thing.

Now, some of you are thinking, “Here he goes again,” but just take a look around:
 
They’re everywhere.

 AMC’s “The Walking Dead,” based on the long-running comic book created by Robert Kirkman, is the highest rated series on television. (News Herald writer Brad Milner is blogging about each episode weekly at NewsHerald.com.)

 Sundance Channel just kicked off a series called “The Returned,” which is a different take on the recently departed. Sprint even has a TV commercial that uses a zombie to comic effect. And that’s just the drop in the bucket, not even mentioning the glut of movies, video games, novels, ads and comics seizing on the image of deathless humans hungry for living flesh.

I was asked this week why that is. Luckily, I had already asked that same question last week of Crystal Creamer, the Panama City woman who organized a recent Zombie Walk to gather nonperishable food for the Panama City Rescue Mission.

“I think it’s because they are us — but not us any more,” she said. “It’s just terrorizing because it’s something we can’t control.”

My writer friend, Mark Boss, said the fascination could be based on the sense that people find zombies more accessible than vampires, which were another recent cultural fad. (I once heard the Young Adult section of a book store referred to as the “brooding vampire” section; the person who said this was relieved that the witchcraft fad seemed to be fading at the time.)

“Vampires are powerful, immortal and often glamorous,” Mark said. “I don’t think most of us feel like that. However, we see zombies, and that zombie is still wearing her uniform from work, and the zombie over there is wearing a tool belt and hardhat, and we see these reflections of us — ordinary citizens. Somehow, that makes them easier to relate to.”

Crystal Creamer, left, and friend

Maybe the fact that they’re such twisted reflections of our everyday friends and family is what is most frightening and fascinating about them. Like Crystal said, they are us, just with our morals switched off and our hunger turned up to 11.

The stories inevitably focus on a small group of people (which often dwindle to a lone survivor), which also works as a metaphor for our sense of isolation in the modern world. We connect electronically with so many more people than ever before, while at the same time connecting to fewer and fewer in the real world. It’s easy to begin thinking of those around us as faceless, soulless zombies.

As a fiction writer, I’ve found zombies to be fertile territory for storytelling. They make excellent metaphors for just about any massive, mindless groupthink you want to apply (insert your own political joke here), and they’re guaranteed to break any writer’s block.

Hit a wall in your writing? Add a zombie. They’re like literary bacon.
 
Peace.

Under the moon and the Milky Way

Photo by Andrew Wardlow

PANAMA CITY BEACH — Walking under a full moon last weekend, I listened to oak limbs creaking, the hiss of leaves shuffling in a breeze, and tried to convince myself there was more happening in the dark.

That the trees were shifting to keep an eye on me as I walked. That something lurked unseen among the limbs or in the utter blackness under the gnarled branches.

It didn’t work.

I know the woods around my house, sparse as they are, host foxes, deer, rabbits and coyotes, snakes and squirrels and other beasties. I have seen a hawk glide over the trees, and a large horned owl perched atop a pine, and I have heard the call of a lonely whippoorwill in the night.

But I have not felt the chill of fright on those empty streets, walking under the vast open dome of the Milky Way, or seeing the landscape light up in shades of blue as clouds parted for the moon. I have not feared the unseen creatures in the wild, or even the ones in my over-active imagination.

I wasn’t always so assured in the night. As a child, I hated going into my back yard after sunset. My family lived on the southern boundary of a small town, with a few acres of woodland surrounding the house. I was convinced something supernatural and predatory walked behind the fence at night; I heard it moving when I went out to feed our dog, or on evenings Mom asked me to bring in laundry from the clothesline.

It followed me on nighttime walks with my older cousins near my grandparents’ home. Or so they would tell me, weaving ghost stories and legends as the moon trailed us in the sky and noises carried from the trees lining the road.

It lurked on the corner, just outside the cone of light from the street lamp. It hid in the bushes beside the bedroom window, waiting for me to look outside so it could reveal itself. It never did, except one evening when we were moving into our home (I was 7) and my uncle (13 years old) snuck up to the window to scare me silly.

Even as an adult, I have felt my hackles rise from some unseen but nonetheless sensed danger in the dark. Because I have also learned to trust my instincts, I make it a rule not to remain in places or situations that cause me to feel uneasy.

But that hasn’t been the case of late. Maybe there are enough real-world dangers that imagined ones don’t register any more. Maybe I have put aside the childish fears of youth, or exorcised them through my writing.

But more likely, I think, I have merely recognized that I’m where I need to be for this time, and that includes a bit of walking under the light of the moon, in the narrow lane between the deep shadows, where leaves rustle and something unseen goes bump in the night.

Peace.
-----
(This is my Undercurrents column for PanamaCity.com and The News Herald this week.) 

Authors to present secrets behind scary stories

Lou Columbus reads at Writers Gallery

PANAMA CITY — The stories were ghostly and ghastly at Chez Amavida on Tuesday.

Among them, Lynn Wallace told of the fearful zombies hiding from costumed children on Halloween, Wayne Garrett told a spooky story of a traveler on a rainy bayou, and Lou Columbus related what happens when someone gets fed up with Facebook posts.

From their tales in the new ghost story anthology, “Between There,” Anthony Buoni read aloud a tale of haunted and hated pet, and Ruth Corley read the opening section of a story of ghostly vengeance. I read part of a tale of Jack Kerouac facing the zombie plague on the road in 1953, from my new collection, “Tales of the Awakening Dead.”

But the storytelling is far from over for the season. A more scholarly approach will take place Oct. 25 at the Bay County Public Library in Panama City, as three local authors explore the nature of evil in literature — and try to drum up support for “Friends of the Library.”

Michael Goldcraft, Ann Marie Knapp and Carl Lee, members of the Panama City chapter of the Florida Writers Association, will present talks on vampire legends and literary trends, the nature of menace as a literary effect, and other secrets of writing horror tales. Each will give four short talks over the course of the afternoon and read excerpts from their books.

Presentations start at the top of each hour — noon, 1 p.m., 2 p.m. and 3 p.m. — and end with about 15 minutes to chat with audience members and possibly sign books. No hour is the same.

“The objective is to support the Friends of the Bay County Library by trying to invite more people to become ‘Friends of the Library’ by buying memberships at this presentation,” Goldcraft said. Memberships are $10 for individuals, $20 for families, $100 for patrons and $200 for corporations.

Here’s a peek at their presentations:

Michael Goldcraft

l Goldcraft (a pen name for Michael Brim) will discuss the creation of his horror works, including the short story collection “Thirteen Tales of Eclectic Evil,” and his “Dark Lyfe Trilogy” — “Ascent of Evil,” “Inherited Evil,” and “Arcanum of Evil.”

Ann Marie Knapp

l Knapp (the pen name for Dr. Kelley Kline) will discuss “The Myth of the Vampire,” “The Modern Fictional Vampire.” “The Concept of Menace” and “Murder Most Maddening.” She’ll start with a focus on the etiology of the vampire myth from Sumer in 4000 BC to the legendary acts of Vlad the Impaler, which set the stage for Bram Stoker’s depiction of Dracula.

Her second talk will focus on the dramatic shift from vampires as antagonists to protagonists with the groundbreaking release of Anne Rice’s “Interview with the Vampire” (1976). Her latter sessions will cover homicide, menace in literature, and include excerpts from her book, “Ascent of the Immortal.”

l Lee’s four sessions will be based on “the four M’s” of horror writing. Three are being kept secret, but one is “Menace.” Self-described as a lifelong lover of science fiction and horror writing, Lee is currently in the final stretch of finishing his debut novel, “The Voice in My Head,” while working to complete his psychology degree at FSU-Panama City.

“The definition for ‘menace’ is a person or thing that is likely to cause harm,” Lee said. “After all, the most memorable killers captured within the pages of a good horror book have exuded menace in varying degrees. Take Hannibal Lector, Mr. Hyde, Frankenstein’s monster or Dracula as examples.”

Lee added that sometimes fear can permeate an entire novel as a faceless, discorporate dread, giving the Harry Potter series as an example.

“From the very beginning, (Voldemort’s) presence runs throughout the plot’s entire tapestry like a storm cloud threatening to rain,” Lee said. “But he never regains his actual body until the end of book four. Up until that point, his menace is conveyed through hushed whispers and talk of dark deeds.”

Like ghost stories told in the black of night.

Peace. 

---

(This is my Undercurrents column for PanamaCity.com and The News Herald this week.)

In defense of zombies

Me, Zombified

Zombies scare me.

I don't know why, exactly. Maybe it's the idea that they are us, just with our morals switched off and our hunger turned to 11.

Maybe it's the idea that they can't be reasoned with (insert your favorite political joke here), or that they never tire, they never stop, and it seems like they come out of nowhere by the multitudes.

Maybe it's the overwhelming dread of a worldwide plague turning the planet into a dead zone where the slightest noise or a change in the direction the breeze blows can mean death.

I seldom have nightmares about zombies. I generally recall my dreams in detail, and my really bad dreams are usually about demons. (Don't even get me started.)

Then one night I dreamed that I was a zombie. I "woke up" in the middle of a feeding frenzy, at first frightened and confused by the walking corpses all around me and the prey they were devouring, and suddenly a weird calm came over me.

My new e-book of short stories

I realized what I was and why the horde wasn't trying to attack me. I was just like them. And I realized that was okay with me (in this dream, at least) — knowing what I was, I could deal with that. (I've tried to decipher the psychological implications of this dream. In fact, I'm writing a book to deal with them.)

But see:  There was a sense of personal freedom that set in once I realized that my continued existence had been made so simple. There were no worries, because the worst had already happened. All I had to do was feed myself, and the rest of the world could go to hell.

Like I said, I'm working this out: That's where the opening scene of my new novel takes place — as an undead man "awakens" (becomes self-aware) in the middle of an afternoon snack he's sharing with another undead man. (You can read this opening scene in my new ebook, "Tales of the Awakening Dead," only 99 cents on Kindle!)

I spent last year's NaNoWriMo exploring what happens next — a simple thing, as the man recognizes that the food stocks are being depleted while the number of predators rises. That won't do, of course, so he has to find a way to reduce the feeders and fatten the prey and ensure a steady supply of "This Mortal Flesh."

The trailer video for Tales of the Awakening Dead

As I wrote in the introduction to 'Tales of the Awakening Dead,' there's some cultural backlash already rising that indicates people think the zombie apocalypse is played out as a source for storytelling. That's being floated out there at a time when "The Walking Dead" is a hit comic book and a super-hit TV series. (It returns for its fourth season Sunday, and AMC is now developing a spin-off series to fill the seasonal hiatus next summer.)

The Walking Dead Season Four Trailer

So obviously, there are still plenty of stories to tell.

Myself, I write about zombies for a variety of reasons beyond my own desire to understand my dreamstates. One, they make excellent metaphors for just about any massive, mindless groupthink you want to apply. Two, you can set up different rules for how the creatures multiply and how they operate (can they speak? do they run or shamble? does only a bite spread infection?). Three, exploring how your human characters relate to one another and the zombies in such an environment reveals so many things about the human condition.

But an added bonus, and probably most importantly: You can tell any story in this framework. When it comes to human relationships, action/adventure, or even buddy cop stories, zombies are like bacon — they can make any story better.

Don't believe me? Next time you're writing and you hit a wall, and you don't know what happens next, have a zombie come through the window. Instant writer's block solvent.

----

Thoughts? Refutations? Please comment!

Some links on the death of Ray B

Ray Bradbury (1920-2012)

"Death doesn't exist. It never did, it never will. But we've drawn so many pictures of it, so many years, trying to pin it down, comprehend it, we've got to thinking of it as an entity, strangely alive and greedy. All it is, however, is a stopped watch, a loss, an end, a darkness. Nothing."
— Ray Bradbury, from "Something Wicked This Way Comes" 


I am still processing the things I need to write about the death of Ray Bradbury. Whether anybody reads them or not. I believe he would understand that.

Meanwhile, please check these links, which say some of the things I am feeling or show some of the reasons I feel them:

Ray Bradbury's obituary.

My favorite living author, Neil Gaiman, reads aloud his story, "The Man Who Forgot Ray Bradbury." This made me cry, which one should not do at work.

A tumblr post with video embedded in which RB talks about the reasons to write -- and not to write.

Gaiman quotes Bradbury: "Looking back over a lifetime, you see that love was the answer to everything." 

An introduction to a Bradbury collection, written by Gaiman a couple of years ago. 


Take Me Home, an essay by Bradbury in The New Yorker, published June 4. 

"B is for Bradbury," the 6/29/2010 entry from this blog, in which I write about finding the book that cemented my love of writing (and reading), Bradbury's "S is for Space."


That's all I have for right now. I'll gather my emotions and thoughts and return before too long with more for the 10 or so people who sometimes read this. It's how I deal with things. I appreciate you "listening."


Peace.

Catching up & Things to do

Mike Brim and a Vampire

Mike Brim (who writes horror novels under the name of Michael Goldcraft) was the guest author in my Education Encore class on Friday. He talked to the class about how he builds his characters, getting to know them before he begins writing about them. He wants to know how they react, and why they do the things they do, so he'll recognize immediately if they do something "uncharacteristic." He is scheduled to do a presentation at the Bay County Public Library on Oct. 13 at 6 p.m.

Minutemen by Nick May

Nick May will kick off his "Follow the Oil" tour to debut is new novel, "Minutemen," on Friday with stops all over the place for the next several days. I have read a pre-publication copy of Minutemen, and it's a hoot. (Look for my review here with the complete schedule of appearances on Thursday after it hits the web at NewsHerald.com.)

The Offer at The Axis Venue

The Offer made their official Panama City debut with new lead vocalist Nathan Simmons on Friday night. (I'll be posting a video of one of their songs later.)

I will be participating in Local BooksALIVE at the Bay County Public Library on Saturday, Oct. 29. It's a full day of local writers and their work, with a slate of speakers beginning at 10 a.m. (then a lunch break at noon) and book sales and signings from 1 to 3 p.m. I will be there with The Book of Gabriel as well as remaining copies of The Best of Days and other earlier works. I hope you'll stop by and see me before you head downtown to the second annual Panama City Zombie Walk at 4 p.m. (More on this as the event details are arranged.)

Meanwhile, check out this video I shot of last year's Zombie Walk:

What's up?

Mark Boss at Education Encore.

My friend Mark Boss, a local author, visited my Education Encore class last Friday to discuss "plot" in the craft of short fiction writing. While he was talking, a class member downloaded his latest novel to her smartphone. How cool is that?

Disembodied floating heads.

I toured the Jaycees Haunted House yesterday, where the good folks showed me some of the shocks they're planning. It opens Friday, and proceeds go to support a Christmas charity that buys toys for needy children.

Enlightenment-era Hipsters.

I also visited a dress rehearsal for AMADEUS at Gulf Coast State College. The show opens Friday and runs two weekends. Check out my behind the scenes video below:






Coming up later this week: Headed to the First Friday breakfast meeting of the Bay County Chamber of Commerce, grand opening of the Tervis store at Pier Park, and a concert where my son will debut as lead singer of The Offer. Check out their latest: