Tuesday, May 30, 2006

ZOMBIE NOVEL: 60,000 Words And Counting!

Putting together the last custom video shoot cost me a few days progress on DEATHBREED, my Zombie Novel, but I'm back on the attack now, loaded up on aspirin (for my aching neck) and caffeine (to kickstart my brain). I'm up to 60,000 words, which is two-thirds of the way to my target goal of 90,000... Gonna get back to writing now while I'm still wired on Diet Rockstar, LOL. Wish me luck!

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Christopher Lee Turns 84

Happy Birthday to one of my favorite actors, Christopher Lee, who turns 84 today. Although perhaps best known for his role as Dracula in the 1957-72 Hammer film series, Lee has endeared himself to a whole new generation of fans as Saruman The White in The Lord of The Rings trilogy and as Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequels (where his commanding presence was one of the few redeeming features).

Lee's official website is here, and you can read his wikipedia entry here. Also of interest is this interview from the official Hammer Films site, where he discusses his famous role as Dracula and the problems he had behind the scenes.

Friday, May 26, 2006

ZOMBIE NOVEL: Status Report & Excerpt #2

I'm at just over 57,000 words in my zombie novel, DEATHBREED, up 4,000 from last time. Yeah, yeah... I thought I would have been farther along, too, considering the two monster marathon writing sessions I put in since my last update. Lemme tell ya, I've really been surprised how writing "crunchy bits" (zombie pseudo-science/mythology) has blunted my blitzkrieg word count momentum. It's like suddenly switching gears and being forced to write in a completely different style versus the more colorful, character-driven narrative that dominates the book. I've made good headway, however, and am pleased to report that the majority of these obligatory "talking heads" news reports are not only behind me, but that I'm extremely proud of them and the amount of research and thought that went into crafting them. Through them (but without necessarily providing a concrete origin and rationale for their existence which, as everyone knows, is a no-no) I've successfully managed to put some fresh new twists on flesh-eating zombies while still giving diehard George Romero "Dead" fans (like me) what they want.

Here's a brief excerpt (minus spoilers) of what I'm talking about when I mean "crunchy bits":
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Bryan kept the radio on, the volume turned up so we could all hear the latest reports. These were dominated by eyewitness accounts, many from the air, as the streets of the major cities were considered to be unsafe or impassable due to roadblocks, fires or rioting. I sat behind the cash register on my plastic milk crates and listened...

“…The CDC has now confirmed reports of an unknown biological agent found in the blood of the attackers. The virus causes an extreme state of agitation in its victims, combined with increased adrenaline production and confused, criminal behavior. Despite impaired brain function, the infected are drawn to loud noises and display a single-minded ferocity in trying to kill or destroy the source of the sound, whether human, animal or machine. It is not yet known why the infected are drawn to such noises, but you can help protect yourself by remaining quiet and indoors.”

Oh, shit. Here we go, I thought.

“There are large numbers of infected moving through the streets of all major cities from coast to coast. These forces are rampaging and killing citizens despite the best efforts of the military and law enforcement. The situation is being exacerbated by a smaller, but no less dangerous, armed contingent of vigilantes and looters…”

Smaller? Yesterday, they were supposed to be the majority!

“If you see anyone acting in an erratic or suspicious manner, do not approach, even if their identities are known to you. Infected do not recognize family or friends and are incapable of communication. It is as if they are operating in a dazed or hypnotic trance-like state. They will attack and pursue all non-infected with single-minded determination. This pursuit can be kept up for miles or for however long they can maintain visual or auditory contact. Their only goal is to kill and devour non-infected individuals.”

“You got that right,” I smirked.

“Tests run by the CDC on infected individuals have conclusively demonstrated that the infected will ignore each other in most situations. There are two exceptions: 1) They have a limited ability to communicate with each other by way of a moan or wail; the infected also make this sound whenever they encounter, or think they have encountered, possible prey; and 2) Infected will fight each other but only to be the first to get at food, that is, non-infected individuals. Fortunately, they have only a limited ability to use tools. For example, they have been known to use bludgeons such as available sticks and stones if continually frustrated in efforts to get at victims with their hands. They appear to be operating on a very primitive, some might say prehistoric, level. The infected’s preferred method of attack is to grab hold of their victims and bring them in close for a bite…”

“You got that right, too!” I laughed.

“Those they do not kill, they infect through wounding. Exposure to the infected’s bodily fluids through open wounds, or through eyes, nose, mouth or, uh, sexual contact, are the only known methods of transmitting the virus. It is not, I repeat, not an airborne contagion and the nation’s water supply is safe to drink. Again, I urge you to avoid any contact with infected individuals and report their presence to law enforcement immediately. Unless absolutely necessary, you should remain in your home with all doors and windows locked. Avoid travel; many roads are jammed with cars attempting to flee the affected areas and roadblocks have been established to contain the virus to the major urban population centers. Stay tuned for the latest news. We’ll be back, right after these messages...”

A commercial for some crazy preacher came on, warning of the “End Times” and that Jesus would be here soon. “So come on down to the Christ Our Lord Christian Center’s Rapture Party, where you can be the first to greet our Lord and Savior in person!”

I wondered how many jackasses would get killed or infected trying to “come on down” for the Rapture. I was about to make a smart-ass remark about it when I heard the office window shatter...

"They're breaking in!" Bryan shouted, struggling to be heard over the rising chorus of moans that had seemed so far away a moment ago. When we thought we were safe.

Bodies fell through the breach, thudding on the cement floor. Rotten feet crunched on broken glass.

I chambered a fresh round into my shotgun. We were all going to die.

DEATHBREED Excerpt Copyright 2006 Todd Tjersland. All Rights Reserved.

Click here to read Excerpt #1

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Now I just need to find another 40-50,000 words or so to finish my novel, LOL. That'll be the end of June at this rate (fingers crossed for sooner). Then the lovely, painfully down-n-dirty job of the second draft begins...

You know, I've written screenplays and all kinds of stuff before, fiction and non-, but writing a novel--goddamn!--that is some serious shit. It's a huge commitment of time and energy; month after month pounding away at the keyboard, not even counting all the countless hours spent doing research and brainstorming... It's given me a whole new world of respect for those who do it, even if they suck. Well, not so much if they suck, LOL, but you know what I mean.

So would I do it again? Ask me when this book's done, but confidentially, right now, the answer is "YES!"

TO THE DEVIL... A Film Review

Finally saw Hammer's final film, TO THE DEVIL... A DAUGHTER (1976) and, aside from the abrupt, incompetent ending, I'd say that this was one of their best films. I'd enjoyed their earlier Dennis Wheatley adaptation, THE DEVIL RIDES OUT (it's also an excellent book if you get the chance to pick it up), so I was really looking forward to this. The direction and cinematography were first-rate, even if the script did not follow Wheatley's novel. Watching a bloody, demonic "hand puppet" crawl inside Nastassja Kinski's vagina was a bit, er, unexpected in a Hammer film, but after watching a full-grown man birth himself out of one in XTRO, pretty much nothing shocks me anymore, LOL.

The Anchor Bay DVD features the trailer, photo/poster gallery and a lively 24 minute documentary on the making of the film (and the death knell of Hammer) with Christopher Lee and other cast and crew.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

NERDS ON FILM!

Check out the funny mockumentary shorts from Yng Turk Films! They're free to watch online.

"Fear of Girls" is about two nerdy losers who are more into playing Dungeons & Dragons than reality. Guys like these are the reason I avoid going to my friendly local gaming shop, LOL. This one time, I went in to see what new role-playing games had come in and all of a sudden this hideous, bucktoothed retard was at my shoulder lisping, "Will you DM me?" Fuck, no! Get a drool cup and get way from me, you disgusting loser. Goddamn... D&D is cool and all, but man! Considering some of the people it attracts, no wonder it gets a bad reputation, LOL. Put that in your +5 Pipe of Cloudkill and smoke it!

"Pitching Mother" is the story of a wanna-be movie director whose dreams are too big for his budget, so he pathetically tries to con his own mother into bankrolling his terrible movie. Hmm... This reminds me of a guy I used to know, LOL, who might or might not look and sound an awful lot like the wanna-be director in this film.

Kudos to YngTurk for coming up with some cool shit. The films are funny because they're true! Well, inspired by the truth, anyway, and that's always been close enough for me. The latest word is they're working on a new "Downloadable & Dangerous" edition of "Fear of Girls" so I can't wait for that.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

FACES OF GORE: Weird Trivia

Webster's Online Dictionary now uses a quote from my mondo movie FACES OF GORE as an example of "modern day usage" of the word "unwrap"... as in "Now the only thing his daughter has to unwrap is her father's bodybag!" and attributes the usage to me, LOL.

Okay, I'm as shocked as you are... It may not be the same thing as Beyonce inventing "bootylicious" but it's not too shabby. I'm still in the dictionary! Woohoo!

LORDI: Attack of the Rock-N-Roll Monster Men!

Winners of the 2006 Eurovision Song Contest, metal monsters LORDI are Finland's thematic answer to GWAR. The band looks awesome and the metal they bring is surprisingly accessible to the mainstream. I expected them to sound a lot heavier looking like that, LOL, but am grateful I can actually understand the lyrics and not get a headache (much like their fellow Finns, symphonic metal band NIGHTWISH).

LORDI won the Eurovision contest with "Hard Rock Hallejuah". Their website has three music videos you can watch online: "Devil Is A Loser", "Would You Love A Monster Man?" and "Blood Red Sandman."

Signed with Sony, expect LORDI to bring the "Arockalypse" to America soon! Import CDs are available through Amazon.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

WEIRD MENACE/PULP FICTION UPDATE

There are now six comments posted to my Weird Menace blog entry in April. A reader wrote in and I've provided a lot of answers to his and other questions about the pulps, including their spiritual successors, the paperbacks. Amazon lists several books you can buy on the history of sleazy paperbacks and magazines which I mention in my replies... Take it sleazy!

MY ZOMBIE NOVEL: Past the halfway mark!

Howdy, Horror Fans! Just a quick note to let you know I'm still banging away at my zombie novel, DEATHBREED; I got sidetracked for a week doing research on another "secret" novel project (and a custom video for a client), but I'm back at the keyboard now: Full steam ahead!

The zombie book is currently (as of this post) hovering at the 53,000 word mark, up from 47,000 where I left off when I got sidetracked. I can safely say I'm over halfway done with the first draft. 90,000 words is my target, but I'm not averse to it going as high as 100,000 if the story demands it; besides, that gives me more room to start making cuts in the second draft... I'm just now setting up several of the secondary cast of characters (cannon fodder, LOL) and chain of events as the Zombie Plague threatens to overwhelm the city.

Don't forget you can read an exciting excerpt from my book, DEATHBREED, online!

Saturday, May 20, 2006

THE BABY: Drooling, Diaper-clad Terror!

Saw a freaky old 70s movie called THE BABY this week (directed by Ted Post, the guy who did the "Dirty Harry" movie MAGNUM FORCE). A bunch of crazy incest bitches kept a 21 year old guy in diapers and used a cattleprod on him if he tried to talk, walk or do anything other than act like a drooling infant, LOL. I liked it; it was actually good (not "so bad it's good"). ;-)

The Geneon DVD was so bare-bones it didn't even have a freakin' menu, LOL. The actual print was very good, though. Too bad the movie was only rated PG (probably more like PG-13 by today's standards for the adult subject matter). Anyway, it's worth a rental if you're looking for something out of the ordinary, LOL.

NETFLIX SCREWS ME AGAIN!

Goddamn, I hate Netflix! I'm one of the thousands (if not millions) of poor bastards the company "throttles" because I watch and return DVDs too quickly. I can't help it; I love movies and no other rental service beats their selection! Maybe you've heard about this "throttling" tactic on the news. Netflix supposedly offers "unlimited" rentals each month, but secretly penalizes customers for returning DVDs too quickly. This penalty includes several asshole strategies such as:

1) Failing to acknowlege receipt of the DVDs I returned on the day I know they received them (their distribution center is within 30 miles of me and I always drop off my DVDs inside the post office, not on the street);

2) Acknowledging receipt of my DVDs "on time" but then refusing to ship the next DVDs in my rental queue the same day like they are freakin' supposed to (usually by marking them as "shipping today" but then later changing the date to "shipping tomorrow");

3) Shipping DVDs from remote centers like New York, Texas or Florida so it takes 3-5 days to get to me (worse, the return envelope is addressed to the same cross-country location!); also note that they love to do this with series disks more than any other;

4) Skipping over series disks or deliberately shipping them out of order--the only thing worse than not getting a TV series is watching the episodes out of order;

5) Creating bogus "wait" times (that vary by customer based on rental habits, not availability) to prevent me from getting popular new releases for weeks or even months, but not limited to just new releases.

6) They start you off in your free trial period with excellent customer service, then once you start paying for it, said customer service becomes a crapshoot, eventually degrading to the point of ridiculously bad;

7) If you complain about bad service, they blame it (unfairly) on the US Post Office instead of their own deceptive shipping practices;

8) They make finding their contact information (to complain) practically impossible; it's not on their website!

So why do they do this? It's allegedly a profitability issue for the company; each disk costs Netflix seventy-eight cents to send each way. Look, I paid to receive "unlimited rentals" (based on how fast I could return DVDs) and not hit some bullshit artificial glass ceiling. In my opinion, if not outright fraud, it's deceptive. If they would just change the way the way they advertise (removing the "unlimited rentals" bullshit) and specify exactly how many rentals you can have in any given month, then that's fine. Just gimme good service for however many flippin' rentals that is instead of screwin' me over so I never know if I'm gonna have my goddamn movies on time! Raising prices is fine, too, so long as there's no more "throttling" and I get what I'm paying for.

How do they do this? Allegedly, returning your DVDs too quickly sets off some kind of "red flag" in their computer system to start targeting your account for "throttling", which will slow down the number of DVDs they ship you.

Here are some of the tricks I've tried (and the results) to get around the Netflix "throttling" crap:

TRICK #1: Upgrading membership (mine is currently set at 8 DVDs out at a time).

RESULT: While theoretically this helps mitigate "throttling" somewhat (since there are more DVDs constantly going back and forth), it just means you keep getting hit with more "throttling". For example: Today, Netflix refused to acknowledge having received four of the DVDs I returned yesterday; furthermore, they waited an extra day to acknowledge receipt of a movie they received Monday, May 15, then said my next DVD would ship Tuesday... but from the East Coast! It was supposed to be here Friday, but wasn't. Now I'll be lucky to have two movies to watch over the weekend when I should have had five! This is the worst case of "throttling" I've received yet!

TRICK #2: Create a subaccount.

RESULT: I read somewhere that doing this would "fool" Netflix into giving the new subaccount good service. That proved to be incorrect. I subdivided my rentals into five for my primary account and three for my subaccount. I then filled my subaccount's queue with series disks Netflix was constantly refusing to ship to my primary account. Netflix said all of the DVDs were available "now". However, around slot ten (after MIKE HAMMER, PRIVATE EYE and POLICE WOMAN), I had a few non-series new release disks. Netflix skipped over all but one of my series disks to get to the regular movies (they delayed shipment a day on the series disk then sent it from the East Coast). I did get both of the new releases, at least, with no "wait". Today, they failed to acknowledge receipt of one of the DVDs they received today, so bingo, that's one more movie I won't be watching over the weekend.

TRICK #3: Fill your queue full of old movies.

RESULT: This does seem to help a little, but they still "throttle" you, even on these. They do tend not to skip over them like series disks or new releases.

These are the three tricks I've tried (although one isn't so much a trick as a personal preference); you can see they all resulted in dismal failure.

Other ideas for tricks are:

1) Only returning one or two DVDs at a time (if they receive three or more on the same day from you it may target you for heavier "throttling"), but this means a daily trip to the post office when you have eight out at a time like me. Also, you might not see any visible effect for weeks depending on however long it takes for them to stop screwing with your account (meaning when they decide to stop red-flagging you as a heavy renter);

2) Limit your rental queue to just enough disks so they have to ship you what you want. This is not practical for me, as I have over 300 movies in my queue;

3) Cancel your account and apply for a new one. Then the "fun" starts all over again as you get good service for a few weeks, then bad again. This isn't a good long-term solution, especially if you have a lot of movies in your queue.

When I had a Blockbuster DVD Freedom Pass, I would rent three DVDs in-store at a time and would take out an average of 30-50 movies per month. Sometimes I'd go in two or three times per day to swap out movies, especially if one or more were shitty. I gave up renting in-store because they no longer had any movies I wanted to see after about a year, aside from the occassional new release (membership was not transferable from store to store). I thought Netflix was the solution but it obviously isn't working out to be all I hoped for. However, I hear that Blockbuster Online and similar services (Peerflix, etc.) are even worse! So, I'm stuck with the Devil I know, or else out of luck completely...

I really wish Netflix would take action to resolve their profitability issues without constantly resorting to all this deception.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

THE TRAGIC LOT OF THE CREATIVE TYPE: A Rant

Are you a "Creative" type? Don't expect any meaningful career support unless your Daddy is rich and prone to indulge you in your chosen profession. It's sad but true: The creative's friends and family are often worthless, if not damaging to his career. First, you have the cheerleaders who say anything you do, no matter how bad, is fantastic, then you have the dream-destroyers who think you should pursue something more practical, like being a doctor or a lawyer (as if we don't have enough of these parasites in our country already). Of course, 99% of their "advice" and comments are useless (if you can even get them to look at anything in the first place)... They quite simply don't know anything about what you do, whether it be writing, filmmaking, art, whatever. They pursue their painfully boring, uncreative little little lives without a care in the world, scratching their heads like good little chimps when presented with anything out of the ordinary. Underneath it all, whether they know it or not, they are jealous and spiteful. Why should you succeed and lead a life more interesting than their own? It's the "build them up, tear them down" celebrity tabloid mentality--only without the build-up, LOL.

When you do manage to achieve a measure of success and independence as I have done, whatever you've attained is never good enough for them. "Why can't you be like Stephen King?" or "Why don't you go see Steven Spielberg?" are two of the most painfully stupid questions I am asked most often. Then there's the classic line, "I can't believe anybody buys that crap you make!" LOL. But wait, there's more: what about the greedy, nagging wife who undermines everything you do that "threatens" her financial stability or takes time away from her and the kids? Millstones around your neck, I say! Whether you have all or only some of these diabolical dream-destroyers dragging you down, wait until you actually prove them wrong and strike it rich! Then watch them change their tune long enough to come begging for a hand-out: "We always knew you'd make it! Can I borrow $5,000?" Yeah, right. F*** you.

Everything I've done I've had to earn on my own, clawing my way to success, tooth and nail. The most recent example of dream-destroying in my life inspired today's rant... As regular readers of this blog know, I'm currently engaged in writing my first novel, a monumental (but hardly insurmountable) challenge. I told a certain someone in my family that I'd bought a bunch of books that shared the theme of my novel as research material so I could get a feel for what other writers were doing on the subject. This jackass couldn't understand why anyone would want to do that and has the nerve to ask me: "You're not copying these books, are you?" That's about as close as I've come to punching somebody in the face in quite awhile, LOL. It's the worst insult you can level at a writer because it doesn't just challenge what you're writing so much as your ability as a writer! These people don't listen, don't understand and I don't know why I ever expected them to, when they've given me nothing but grief on everything else I've ever done.

Yessir, the lot of the creative type is a lonely one! Unless you're one of the lucky ones, my advice is to never bother to share anything with the "normals" in your life, but if you do, don't expect any kind of support. Unless they are creative types themselves, they are utterly incapable of appreciating or understanding what you go through to do whatever it is that you love. They think books and movies just grow on trees, LOL. Surround yourself with fellow creatives and you'll have an easier time of it.

If you find yourself struggling to get things done on your project, remember that there are only 24 hours in a day, so pick one and get started! Keep hammering away at it every day, even if only for an hour or two. If you are unlucky enough to have one or more unsupportive "normals" sharing your space, lock them out of your room and demand they treat you as if you were "at the office" when the door is shut. Easier said than done, I know. Wives and children are notoriously persistent in not understanding that what you are doing is important and "real" work. They may even try to force you into negotiating for your "free time!" Put your foot down: No deals. "Get lost! I'm busy!" is the battle cry of the creative when beseiged by the forces of mediocrity. How else will you ever get anything done?

END RANT!

THE ICE HARVEST Film Review

THE ICE HARVEST is an odd film. Advertised as a Christmas comedy, it is not (although it has a few chuckles scattered throughout). I didn't really know what to make of it at first, but it grew on me the farther into the movie I got. Eventually, I realized this was a neo-noir, and a highly effective one at that... It is a film that really makes you think. Naturally, all this was lost on the idiot BAD SANTA crowd the studio tried to lure in...

The story involves a Mob lawyer (John Cusack) and a porno shop owner (Billy Bob Thornton) who conspire to steal over two million dollars from the king of the Kansas underworld on Christmas Eve. Once they get the money, in true noir fashion, the plan starts to unravel, leading to one awful (sometimes comical) situation after another. Throw in the fact that the partners no longer trust each other, the lawyer has the hots for a strip club owner (Connie Nielson) and you'd have trouble enough. But the Mob Boss has sent a brutal thug (Mike Starr) to track the two first-time crooks down and this stirs the pot to boiling, culminating in several gruesome murders. There are lots of twists and turns to the plot; the characters are all shady, so you never really know who to trust or how it will end. Of course, once you realize it is a neo-noir, there is really only one way for it to end...

Be sure to watch the two alternate endings (included as special features) because the studio has put a "cop-out" (sort of) happy ending on the film that, while not bad, is neither true to the book nor to the noir genre. In alternate ending #2, Billy Bob asks John Cusack: "If you are what you do, and you never do anything, then what the f*** are you?" That sums up not only the essence of this movie but also the essence of life itself!

The Ice Harvest is also is a study of what it means to be a man today in America: how we are, each of us, utterly alone. How marriage and children and work are lies, illusions that fail to bring happiness and serve to drag men down. I've seen this happen to so many of my friends; they become spiritually homeless... They have attained the fabled "American dream" yet are miserable: married to stupid, greedy, cheating bitches; burdened with obnoxious, out-of-control kids; up to their eyeballs in debt and working useless, dead-end jobs. They wander through their meaningless lives like zombies, muttering "yes, dear..." and just waiting to die. It's pathetic! And you can't open their eyes once they've been closed, either. It's no wonder men have shorter lifespans, LOL...

It's rare that a movie makes me want to read the book (if I haven't already read it prior to watching), but The Ice Harvest succeeds admirably in this regard. The author's name is Scott Phillips and you can buy his novel here.

Monday, May 08, 2006

ZOMBIE NOVEL EXCERPT

Hey, Horror Freaks! Here's a brief excerpt from my forthcoming zombie novel, DEATHBREED:

Harry, the Cascade Cab dispatcher, seemed intent on eating himself to death behind his cheap wooden desk. He kept his .38 wrapped in one meaty paw while the other dipped his French roll in a steaming tub of au jus. He wasn't taking any chances, not with the things he'd heard. Weird shit was going down all over the country: Reports of plague, mass-murder and cannibalism. Some kind of new mystery virus... Riots, looting, cities burning. Martial law wasn't far behind. The President was supposed to give a speech tonight; he was always giving a speech and the more he talked, the less he said. It was no wonder people were freaking out.

As for me--Hell!--I figured it was all bullshit: media scare tactics, propaganda, the politics of fear and oppression. Whatever. There was always some new threat on the horizon. Most of 'em weren't worth worrying about. Even if they were, what the fuck did I care? I worked at a convenience store. My life was hell; how could it get any worse? This is what I thought, anyway, as I sorted through the stack of magazines. It wasn't much of a selection and I said so. "This all you got?"

Harry shrugged around a mouthful of roast beef. Apparently, the topic didn't interest him.

Goddamn fat bastard; the only thing I bet interested him was where his next meal was coming from. Look at him sitting there in his loud Hawaiian shirt, so fat he can't even get outta that chair...

I'd walked down here after my shift ended at the Lucky Mart because something was wrong with the buses. Naturally, there hadn't been any cabs, either. That's just how my luck works. Harry claimed he was short-handed; there was some kinda bug goin' around, but some guys hadn't even bothered to call in sick. He'd just sent his only driver out to drop somebody off across town; as soon as the guy called in, I was next in line. Meanwhile, I had nothing to do except watch Harry stuff his face and read crummy magazines. The cover stories were all bullshit: celebrity nosejobs, mafia trials and our dependence on foreign oil. I flipped through 'em until I saw a recent National Report that caught my eye. The cover here had the cops arresting a black motorist: a grainy image of angry white men clubbing another poor bastard to death with nightsticks. The familiar caption (in big red letters) proclaimed:

CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?

I had to laugh.

Harry raised one bushy Neanderthal brow at me and said, “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

I held up the magazine cover.

He snorted as if it was the dumbest thing he’d ever seen. “The day we all get along is the day the world fucking ends!”

Harry scratched one of his tremendous man-boobs thoughtfully through his shirt. He leaned back in his creaky leather chair and said, “Look, kid. We’re the only animal what can’t get along with a goddamn thing on this crummy planet. You know what I mean?”

I nodded politely. Everyone loves a captive audience.

Harry kept right on talking. “Hell’s bells! If we ain’t killin’ each other over a dollar or a dame, we’re killin’ each other over race, politics, religion... An’ then, whenever we catch a break from killin’ each other, we start killin’ every other last goddamn thing in sight! Forests, animals, fish, whatever… Man’s an insatiable animal, kid. Our bellies are never full; we’re always hungry.”

With that, he seemed to run out of words. He picked his sandwich back up and tore off a chunk with his teeth. Whether or not this was supposed to emphasize his last point, I’ll never know. He kept staring at me, like he expected some kind of response. I had to admit, Harry had a point. I was about to tell him so when his radio crackled to life:

“—they’re all around the cab, trying to break in! Help! Call the cops!”

Harry dropped his sandwich and clicked the mic. “Who the fuck is this? Where’s my driver?”

“—dead! They got him, dragged him out the front seat! I don’t know what to—”

“Whaddya mean, he’s dead? Who is this? What're you doin’ in my cab?”

“—help! You gotta send somebody fast! The driver had the keys. I’m trapped!”

“What are you, drunk? Get the fuck out—”

“—locked the doors. Oh, God! They’re eating him! They’re ripping off his—”

“Now you listen to me, you motherfucker, if this is some kind of stupid goddamn prank, I’ll make you—”

The cab company window shattered. A pair of bloody arms covered in broken glass thrust themselves through the blinds and clawed at Harry’s face. The wind blew the stench of rotting flesh inside the tiny, one-room office.

The radio crackled with incoherent cursing and shrieks from whoever was trapped inside the cab: “—One of them’s got a rock! He’s using it to smash through the glass! Somebody help—”

Harry moved remarkably fast for a man I’d never seen stand up before; I guess he pushed off hard with his stumpy legs because his chair wheeled backwards like a rocket against the far wall. The hands continued to flail through the broken blinds, trying to grab hold of prey that was no longer there. A low, frustrated moan came from whoever the attacker was. It was then that I noticed a curious thing: the attacker’s arms, while badly cut by broken glass, were not bleeding! The blood on its arms was dry, probably at least an hour old, because it had turned that rusty-brown color blood does.

Harry recovered his wits enough to swear up a blue streak that would have put a sailor to shame. He shot his .38 three times through the window. The blinds obscured his aim, but I heard at least one of the bullets smack wetly into its target. The hands suddenly withdrew. The moaning continued unabated.

I could hear the soft, slow shuffle-crunch, shuffle-crunch of dragging feet on broken glass coming closer to the front door. It had a large glass panel in it with the cab company’s name and phone number stenciled in white. Harry was trying to tell me something but it came out garbled; I couldn't understand him. Nothing was making sense anymore. I tried to get to my feet.

Shuffle-crunch, shuffle-crunch…

“Lock the fucking door!” Harry screamed at me, clutching at his ruined cheek with his free hand. Blood poured freely from between sweaty, fat fingers. He still hadn’t gotten up from his chair (I wasn’t even sure that he could) but he had swiveled around enough so that his gun was covering the front door.

Shuffle-crunch, shuffle-crunch…

“Move it, asshole!”

I leapt up and sprinted to the door, fumbling with the lock. I had just barely got it clicked into the “locked” position when the attacker revealed himself for the absurd horror he was: a little old man wearing a French beret. His skin had a sickly, grayish pallor. Blue and purple veins stood out in stark contrast against the leathery flesh. His clothes were badly torn, as if a pack of wild dogs had been at him. As his head twitched to and fro, a hole in his neck bent and widened. I guessed that was where Harry had shot him a few moments before. He was covered in dried blood from head to toe and his arms and hands were dusted with tiny shards of broken glass. No blood seeped out from where the glass (or Harry’s bullet) had clearly penetrated the skin. His hands and mouth were plastered up against the door, leaving greasy, rust-colored smears on its surface. The maniac’s toothless, slobbering mouth worked spasmodically, trying to bite me through the glass. All this was terrible enough, but the eyes were the worst: gruesome, milky-white orbs, as if they’d dried up inside. Cataracts, maybe…

I suddenly recognized him from the Lucky Mart the other day; he’d bought some cigars and complained about our prices. There! The cigars were still in his shirt pocket. His dentures must have fallen out; I distinctly remembered him as having teeth the last time I saw him. It was worse now, knowing him. This was someone I'd seen everyday. Before the plague hit.

I jumped away from the old man's awful presence. His eyes rolled clumsily in their sockets, trying to track my movement. I flipped him the finger and instantly regretted it. I couldn't be sure whether it was the significance of the gesture or simply the movement that set him off. If he'd had trouble seeing me when I'd moved away from the door, he didn't seem to be having any now. He knew where we were and he wanted in!

The old man made a strangled, guttural war-cry from deep in his throat, ending as a gurgling hiss. He began pounding his fists against the door; first slowly, then with increased vigor. It didn't take him long to build up a rhythm. Glass that cheap wouldn’t last long; with each hammer-blow of his fists, the pane rattled and shook.

Harry told me to get the fuck out of the way… It took me several confused seconds to realize I was blocking his line of sight as he kept shouting obscenities at me. I sidestepped out of the field of fire and looked wildly around the room. There had to be an exit or we were dead! Only one avenue of escape presented itself: a door marked “restroom.” I took several steps back and pressed myself against it. My hand reached for the knob…

I’m not sure exactly what happened next. Either the old man broke through the door, or Harry lost his cool and started shooting. Maybe both happened at the same time. For me, everything became a blur of motion, dark and terrible:
The glass door shattered.

Harry started shooting.

The old man stumbled through the opening, moaning and gnashing his teeth. Bullets whizzed out the door, or hit the wall, or hit the old man. I wasn't sure how many went where; there were too many to count. The creep’s body jerked with each shot. While the bullets did slow him down for a second or two each, this only seemed to make him madder and more determined to get at Harry. It was as if the crazy bastard couldn't feel any pain, only the inconvenience and backward force of the impact… It didn't make any sense; the guy should be dead!

As if to punctuate my point, Harry's gun clicked on empty.

I whispered, “Oh, shit!” (or something to that effect).

The shuffling horror checked his dogged advance--right after I whispered whatever it was I said. He cocked his head and stared… not so much at me, as through me. A ropey, brown strand of saliva drooled out from between his cracked lips. What the hell was he waiting for?

Harry started calling the old man every name in the book. Or maybe he was yelling at me. I wasn’t paying attention.

Whoever (or whatever) was on the other end of the radio started clicking the “send” button. All that came over the line was alternating sounds of static and low moans. I guessed whoever had called for help was dead.

I held my breath and tried to become invisible; the creep was standing right in front of me, head cocked like he was having trouble deciding which one of us to attack first. Perhaps the sound of the radio confused him; his milky-white eyes regarded me stupidly, unblinking and evil.

Harry cursed, wheeling back to his desk; he opened a drawer, pulling out an ammo box. The madman's bluish lips peeled back, revealing raw, toothless gums. He hissed softly and wheeled back in Harry’s direction. I thought how ridiculous the old man looked in his fancy beret and suppressed a mad giggle...

Harry started reloading his gun. First one bullet, then another. He only made it to two before he ran out of time.

As if a lunatic had suddenly twisted a key in his back and wound him up, the horrible old man lurched forward: arms outstretched, hands curled into claws, every part of him questing for Harry’s death. Perhaps he was drawn by the sound or activity coming from that corner of the room (I doubted if I’d been able to turn myself invisible).

Harry shot once: the bullet came out the madman’s upper back and impacted the wall next to my head. The old man’s left shoulder twitched, but otherwise gave no indication he’d been hit at all. He started moaning, louder now with each awkward step.

I instinctively ducked (in case more bullets were coming).

Harry’s second shot took the bastard square in the chest. Dead center! It had no effect, but at least it didn’t come flying out the back like the first one did.

I briefly considered jumping on the maniac’s back to buy Harry more time to reload, but a second creep appeared in the door. He was a large black dude with a funny, square-shaped head; half his face was burned off and he was missing several teeth. One of his eyes ran down his cheek like tears of melted wax. The stench was almost as unbearable as the noises he made. Worse, I thought I could hear more moans rising in unison with him from down the street!

The old man reached Harry and grabbed ahold of his head. Harry let out a high-pitched, little girl scream and wet his pants as his face peeled off...

DEATHBREED Excerpt Copyright 2006 Todd Tjersland. All Rights Reserved.

Read Excerpt #2

**********

Well, what did you think? Pretty scary, huh? Feel free to post comments.

I intend to put up more excerpts (possibly the first several chapters free) as the book draws closer to completion. As of this post, I'm just past the halfway mark on the first draft (46,500 words and counting). Stay tuned!

ZOMBIE MOVIE DATABASE



Be sure and visit the ZOMBIE MOVIE DATABASE for all things zombie!

Sunday, May 07, 2006

HALFWAY TO ZOMBIE NOVEL COMPLETION

By the way, I was up all night friday and saturday on a major push toward completing my zombie novel, DEATHBREED. I'm at the halfway mark: 45,000 words out of 90,000 projected for the first draft!

Saturday, May 06, 2006

ANOTHER ZOMBIE NOVEL UPDATE

Work continues on my new novel; 35,000 words and counting (10k since my last update). I'm nearly at the point where the characters become trapped by the zombie menace. Lots of good stuff going on with more to come!

You know, I'd always wanted to write a novel but kept putting it off, saying "I don't have the time." Well, one day I woke up and realized that there are exactly 24 hours in a day and if I wanted to write a novel (or anything else, for that matter), I just had to pick one of those hours and start writing, and keep on writing until it was done, day in, day out. That's about the best advice I can give any writer!

Thursday, May 04, 2006

CALL OF CTHULHU: The Movie

H.P. Lovecraft's classic 1920s novella, THE CALL OF CTHULHU, has finally become a movie, now out on DVD.

For those of you unfamiliar with Lovecraft or Cthulhu, Lovecraft is the twentieth centry's answer to Edgar Allen Poe. He wrote RE-ANIMATOR, FROM BEYOND and THE DUNWICH HORROR (among other short stories that have been adapted to the big screen). He invented the Cthulhu Mythos, which inspired countless other authors and filmmakers. The Mythos deals with sanity-destroying alien gods, crazed cultists, and ancient books of unspeakable evil like The Necronomicon. Cthulhu, a giant octopus-headed, bat-winged monstrosity, is one of these ancient alien gods, who sleeps in suspended animation in his city at the bottom of the sea, waiting until the "stars are right" to rise and reclaim dominion over the earth. The recent Stuart Gordon film, DAGON, based on Lovecraft's short story, The Shadow Over Innsmouth, deals with a Cthulhu cult and the inbred maniacs and fish monsters that worship him.

Check out CALL OF CTHULHU (done in the style of a 1920s silent film!) and watch the online trailers.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AND YOU

Here's an amusing zombie "civil defense" video you can watch online:
THE ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AND YOU

Monday, May 01, 2006

WORST CASE SCENARIO: Nazi Zombies!

Currently in production is WORST CASE SCENARIO, a new Dutch horror film about Nazi zombies coming back to finish what they started 60 years ago in World War II. I guarantee it will better than ZOMBIE LAKE or SHOCKWAVES, the old underwater Nazi zombie movies you may be familiar with.

As Eli Roth (director of HOSTEL and CABIN FEVER) says, this movie looks "F*cking Awesome!"

There are some amazing Quicktime promo spots online (click the link above, but be prepared for some lengthy download times even with a cable modem).

MOONLIGHT MOUNTAIN: Flesh-Eating German Zombies!

Achtung! MOONLIGHT MOUNTAIN is a new zombie movie from German cult director Timo Rose (MUTATION); Timo promises me his film has flesh-eating gore, so check it out!