A week of discoveries and profound realisations is drawing to an end and, to be honest, I could have used a couple of more weekend days but I can’t.
Why do people like zombie shows so much?
I came across the quandary online, one remark winning me over immediately. The remark was a wondering aloud about the “appeal of zombie shows” when zombies aren’t even sexy. Vampires and werewolves are at least seductive, the author said. If I could, I’d hug that author and kiss them on the head.
The remark first prompted me to respond with “But you should look at some of the survivors” but then it got me thinking and this thinking produced the following conclusion.
Zombies are being bunched up with other supernatural creatures because, well, they are supernatural. Yet zombies roam a different genre to the sexy biters and suckers. Zombie shows are either horror shows or comedy shows. There cannot be any appeal there (I strive to forget there was ever such a thing as Warm Bodies and I mean the film. I haven’t read the book.). At least not physical appeal.
The appeal of zombie shows, per my absolutely representative and universal opinion because I allow myself one sweeping generalisation a week, on Sundays, is about survival. In these films and shows – before their showrunners run them into the ground good and hard – we get to see people handling an unusual, scary, apocalyptic situation that we will never be really faced with but what if we were? Would we make it or would we be among the first to join the undead hordes?
I, and a lot of other people, also feel the world is well overdue a zombie apocalypse seeing as what we have come to over the past hundred years or so. This is why zombie shows are, in a big way, cathartic. You can’t avoid politics in real and online life but think about it: how many of the big, important political issues you care about right now would you still care about when your life is reduced to staying alive and finding your next meal? I’ll stop here because I could discuss this at obscene lengths and it wouldn’t be fair.
Why are my courgettes not making any fruit?
As I said, this was a week of discoveries and one of them was a gardening discovery I made when I asked Google the above question. For all its many faults and perversions, Google is handy this way.
Anyway, it turns out courgettes – and all the rest in the family of cucurbits (a word that sounds slightly dirty for no apparent reason) – have male and female flowers. The male open, wilt and drop off, and the female, if pollinated, grow the fruit.
Armed with my new knowledge I marched to the courgette row and inspected the plants. Imagine my joy when I found not one, not two, but three female flowers big enough to give me hope of harvest. Well, you can’t imagine my joy because the topic most likely fascinates you as much as it fascinates Little C. who asked what I was chirping about and when I said “I grew courgettes!” she shrugged and asked “So?” Puberty is upon us. I’ll need to line up gods to pray to for strength to survive it.
I’m not ashamed to say I did three inspections of the courgette row in the hours that followed my discovery. It’s really fascinating to see something grow from a seed to a sizable plant that bears fruit. And courgettes are more fascinating than potatoes in this respect because you can witness the progress from seed to a fruiting plant. Nature at its best.
Why do people write books?
No, I don’t mean it in the “Oh, why do we torture ourselves thus?” way. I mean the part after the book is done. It has to be edited, granted. Then it has to be revised. And then come the trials of proofreading. I have to date read The Dreamer no fewer than five times and even at the current reading I find mistakes that need fixing. Also, by this point I hate this book’s guts, I find it hurried, flat, dull, uninteresting and any other synonyms of bad you can think of.
This, if we are to believe Stephen King, is when you know the book is ready for publication. Or it will be, when I’m done with the last sixty pages of it. Still looking for reviewers, by the way, and yes, I know I said I think my book is dull but the perception of art is subjective and you don’t have to agree with me. I still love the story.
Speaking of stories, please visit my
Book-peddling corner (because books won’t sell/download themselves much as I’d like them to): if you’re in the mood for some dragons and vampires, or mysterious vanishing planes, try The Lamiastriga (which you can’t read for free on this blog) or Sky High (which you can read for free on this blog or on Kobo. I always appreciate feedback). For those in the mood for scary stories, here’s a complete list of my published shorter fiction.