I’m reading I, Zombie. I love zombies. Not in the sense that I want to be a zombie. But I’d love a good zombie apocalypse where we’re forced to shoot a zombie or two. Sounds exciting.
As I’ve said before, I’d be one of those stupid unlucky bastards who would end up bit in the beginning before the news spread the word that the apocalypse is here. Ya know the ones? Standing there on the street corner with a phone to my head and here comes zombie man to eat my innards.
I don’t want to spoil anything with I, Zombie. Not that I expect too many people to run out and pick it up.
It’s quite interesting, ya know the typical zombie stories are from the perspective of the ones who aren’t infected. I, Zombie is from the perspective of the zombie. It’s weird, I’d never given thought to it like that before.
It’s like being trapped in something, unable to escape. Unable to scream for help. I kind of dig it…. ahem, the book. I kind of dig the book!
To the point of the post, it’s freaking me out a little. I’m one of those weenies that you’d never suspect. Something about horror and the such just makes me anxious. It’s weird, because I can sit down and watch some Walking Dead, but reading this…
There are bumps in the night.. When I go out and walk the dog, the limbs crack. I’m pretty sure there are zombies in the woods. I fear they’re coming for me now. Because I know their secrets. I know what’s really going on.
– Hang in there!