Thursday, September 27, 2012

Author Post: Sean Beaudoin

Today I have Sean Beaudoin here to do a guest post! His book, The Infects, came out Tuesday! Please help me welcome him to the Books Make Great Lovers stage....


The Infects
Synopsis: Seventeen-year-old Nero is stuck in the wilderness with a bunch of other juvenile delinquents on an "Inward Trek." As if that weren’t bad enough, his counselors have turned into flesh-eating maniacs overnight and are now chowing down on his fellow miscreants. As in any classic monster flick worth its salted popcorn, plentiful carnage sends survivors rabbiting into the woods while the mindless horde of "infects" shambles, moans, and drools behind. Of course, these kids have seen zombie movies. They generate "Zombie Rules" almost as quickly as cheeky remarks, but attitude alone can’t keep the biters back. Serving up a cast of irreverent, slightly twisted characters, an unexpected villain, and an ending you won’t see coming, here is a savvy tale that that’s a delight to read — whether you’re a rabid zombie fan or freshly bitten — and an incisive commentary on the evil that lurks within each of us.



Sean's Post:

    When I was a kid, I never wanted the hero to win. Ever. I rooted against Superman. I prayed for kryptonite. I wanted Batman to fall into the Joker’s roiling shark tank instead of looping Batcord over a joist and swinging to freedom. Those sharks looked hungry. Even sharks need an advocate. It was the same with James Bond. Why wouldn’t Goldfinger just cut Bond in half already, instead of blabbering away about his weather control device? It also drove my crazy that the Road Runner always got the best of Wile. E. Coyote. It seemed so unfair that all of Wile E’s rockets and gadgets failed. At least one Acme Bird Pulper has to function correctly eventually, doesn’t it? If you gave a hundred monkeys a hundred hatchet-shaped typewriters, one of them would eventually kill King Lear, wouldn’t they? And the Road Runner was so smug. He was ridiculously fast, never got caught in the dynamite blast, always ate the real bird seed instead of the poisoned pellets and had pure luck forever on his side? Whatever. I’m a firm believer in odds. And justice. A nice braised Road Runner shank in delicate aspic and cherry remoulade would have been just. It was the same with Westerns. Give me a black hat anytime. I always wanted the sheriff to be slow on the draw. I wanted the mean cattle rustlers to take over the town and turn it into an Outdoor Whiskey Garden and Upright Citizen Target Practice Range. And then all grow huge mustaches and get fat and marry the girls from the brothel.

    So, yeah, I was sort of an odd kid. But at least I was consistent. Because when I turned eleven and was taken to my first zombie film (Dawn of the Dead. Thanks, Dad!) I immediately started rooting for the zombie hoard. They looked parched. And dirty. They needed a bath and a shave. Even the women. I wanted them to get the humans. I wanted them to take over the city. I wanted their desires to be met, their flesh orgies to be fun, their ceaseless human-free shambling to come to a protein-filled end.

    But mostly, I’ve always wanted to know what happens when there’s no one left to fight back or hide or barricade themselves in basements. When there’s no one left to brain zombie skull with baseball bats or run screaming through the woods. What happens after the last human is eaten? Do all the zombies suddenly look up and shrug? Do they shuffle around purposelessly for months, years, decades? Do they just lie down and never get up again?

    I want to see a movie about post-human zombie society, where the zombie leaders all come together like the United Nations and decide what their stated goals and resolutions are. How they eventually get over their differences and build school and hospitals and libraries. How they start to get fat and comfortable, watching reality TV and giving each other the finger on the highway.

    When the zombies win, we all win.
    Because then we are them, and they are us.

    Just with worse breath.

    Seriously, though? If I were a zombie I’d get a diamond encrusted grill made and grow my sideburns out and hang out downtown in a silk sweat suit, watching the girls walk by and just basking in the knowledge that finally the right side got a fair shake.

Sean Beaudoin
www.seanbeaudoin.com


1 comment:

naida said...

The Infects sounds so good!
Great guest post, I'm a zombie fan myself. Interesting idea that the zombies would rebuild a society and get along well :)