I finally finished the fifth chapter of Zaphod Zombie's memoirs ("Zombie Porn").  It only took a week and a half.  In my defense (not that I need it, no one is accusing me of anything) it's been a helluva busy week.

I went out of town for three days for the Halloween weekend.  On Monday, I took delivery of a kitten named Benny and have been busy being my kitty's pappy.  In between work and home, I've been consistently biking ten miles every weekday (starting the Monday prior last).

And then there's the chapter itself.  That bad boy has been the longest chapter yet, clocking in at a little over three thousand words.

Read the rest of this post and see what the fuss is about after the break!

Of course, the good news is that I'm done with it.  I've browsed through the finished chapters every now and then and see that it requires some heavy editing, but I'm trying hard not to worry about that right now.  My goal is to keep moving forward and try--TRY--not to stop.  Which is the exact same goal I've been using on my bike rides.  Huh.

At any rate, as I prepare to tackle chapter six ("My Dad, The Racist"), I'm thinking about how the different plots in Zaphod's unlife are to interact and be woven together.  I realized that this story isn't just "Zombie Fiction".  When most people think of zombie fiction, they no doubt go straight to the stereotypes.  Lumbering, stumbling corpses that want to eat your brains.

But Zaphod and his story is inherently different.

It's not just zombie fiction, it's SYMPATHETIC zombie fiction.

As of a week ago, I was comforted (if not ecstatic) over the fact that I was working on a project that simply had never been thought of before.  And then, in my "zombie" news feed on Google News, a story came up about this book:

http://www.amazon.com/Breathers-Zombies-S-G-Browne/dp/0767930614/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1256225815&sr=8-1

"Breathers: A Zombie's Lament".  You know it's sympathetic towards zombies from the title alone.

It's true, there isn't much originality these days, huh?