Write about zombies? Not me. Write about zombies who feed off sex? Well, that’s more likely. Add in a horror element--now I’m all in.
January of 2011 I was about halfway through my MFA in Creative Writing. We were given a writing prompt that, we were told, was designed to push us “out of our comfort” zone. The assignment: read a tabloid newspaper, like The Weekly World News, long time supporter of Bat Boy, or the National Enquirer, currently keeping readers up to date on the happenings with Matilda, the Cat from Another Planet, then write a scene based on one of the features. Being the good student that I was, I dug right in to the assignment.
The two articles that inspired me most were Zombie Barbies! by Frank Lake of the Weekly World News and A Very Zombie Holiday also by Frank Lake. Since I was soon to be on my way to Boston, I was also inspired by a very real blizzard wrapping its way around the East coast.
Before I move on to the rest of my account of how I started to write erotic zombie horror, I should mention that prior to beginning my MFA program I had already publisher about ten novels, fifteen novellas, and twelve short stories. Give or take a few in each category. All of them were written to make readers happy, many were romances of all heat levels, and nearly all were “commercial.” And, to be honest, pretty much all of the stories were written with the end goal of selling them. Like, for money. I mention this last part about the money because in the literary community writers are often paid with contributor copies or not at all. So, I entered my MFA program with the mindset that the work I produced should be, could be, saleable. Enter this assignment.
Even before my fingers typed the first word, I was already planning to write not only one scene, but a whole story that my readers would be excited about reading. In the winter of 2011, I was writing all erotica and erotic romance. So, the story had to have sex. Problem: sex scenes with yucky rotting zombies would not be…pretty. Or alluring. Solution: attractive zombies. Logical solution: zombies that live off sex. Even better solution logical solution: zombies that live off sex with human captives. That’s right, as long as they have enough sex with their human captives, they stay attractive. Bonus to the improved solution: sex scenes will be necessary and part of the storyline.
The current East Coast blizzard intrigued me because it had shut down entire cities, halted travel. That sort of thing doesn’t, or rather didn’t, happen very often. What if zombies roamed an entire frozen city? A city held hostage to a fierce winter storm? One thing that came to my mind, zombies don’t feel the cold. That’s creepy. I took that idea and went with it. Soon, my tribe of sex zombies had extraordinary strength, from all that sex no doubt, and the ability to climb ice coated buildings. The last thing I needed was a zombie. An sexy, aggressive sex-hungry zombie. My inspiration? Zombie Barbie. Once my imagination was done with her, she was built like an Amazon goddess, wearing a mini-skirt, torn fishnets, and heavy black boots. Simply put. Mattie is a badass who takes what, and who she wants. Her victim? A tabloid newspaper writer named Hayden.
Servant of the Undead breaks some of the “rules.” For one thing, the point of view character is male. Hayden’s capture and subsequent servicing, read: giving her the sex she craves, of Mattie is the main storyline. The other thing, he is the captive, not her. So, to see what readers think of this role-reversal, I decided to post the novel on Wattpad. I post a new part every Friday. Each part is about 1000 words long and features a video.
The fishnet videos, like the story itself, are an “accidental” creation. I did not set out to use myself to promote Servant. But after looking for images that suited my story and uncompromising zombie Mattie, I came up empty. My solution to this dilemma: put on my own leather mini, torn fishnets, and boots, then go out into my backyard and make my own pics and videos. I imagine I looked a tad eccentric wandering around my backyard, climbing on my woodpile and such, dressed that way and with a hoodie, undone hair and no makeup, but hey–I’m a writer. The neighbors know I’m weird.
You can check out Servant of the Undead on Wattpad, let me know what you think about that role reversal, then come back every Friday for the next part of the story. Want to be sure you don’t miss any? Add the Servant to your Wattpad Reading List.