I have a thing for zombies…okay, so it’s more like an obsession. Just ask my kids, who are mortally embarrassed by the bobblehead undead perched atop the dashboard of my mini-van.
The kids decided I’d officially crossed the line last November when I forced them to perform as zombies that I systematically slaughtered during a “how-to” speech for an oral communications class. My speech, “How to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse”, was born out of desperation when the sole criterion for the speech was announced: “It must be captivating to your audience,” my instructor said. Captivating? What did I have to offer in the way of captivating to a room full of classmates between the ages of 17-20? Parenting tips? No. Scrapbooking? Definitely not. How-to Divorce Guide, maybe? Yeah, right.
My boys were game and actually helped me bloody their faces and clothes with make-up; however, Princess #1 needed more persuasion. Namely, a two hour guilt trip about the many school projects I’ve painstakingly crafted with/for her over the years and my agreement to the stipulation that she be able to whack her brothers in the knees with a prop shovel to simulate how a crawling zombie is slower than a staggering one. Her little sister, Princess #2, begged to be included. “Please let me go. I’d make a good baby zombie, Mommy,” she said. I was afraid that as a four year-old she wasn’t ready for the gruesome business of zombie killin’, though…even the pretend kind.
The speech was a success and people still stop me from time-to-time on campus to ask if I’m still preparing for a zombie plague. Truth is, now that I’ve stock-piled my food, water, weapons and ammo, I’ve decided that the best strategy for preparedness is to become as informed as possible about the walking dead. For this reason, I’m watching and reading pretty much everything I come across about zombies. Some of it is good: AMC’s series Walking Dead is my fave, but the show is on hiatus until February, and this has left a giant hole the size of a half-eaten brain in my Zombie Emergency Preparedness Checklist.
It was with hope of filling that void that I purchased Susan Abel Sullivan’s new independently published ebook Fried Zombie Dee-light! Ghoulish, Ghostly Tales, billed as a “fun collection about ghouls, ghosts, zombies and an advice column featuring dead letters from the lovelorn” on barnesandnoble.com.