Summer of Zombie Blog Tour: Rhonda Parrish – Why I Still Love Zombies
I wanted to repost this blog because it, like others of this summer tour, explains a little why I love the genre. As a side note, I don’t think we zombie fans need to be apologetic, either. Only the “cool” people either hate or are sick of the zombie genre, and so the rest of us are safe.
What I liked about this blog entry of the tour was Rhonda Parrish’s description of why she likes the genre. I feel the same, but I find it, perhaps, more ironic. I fear death, too. I fear it because there’s too many awesome things to check out, no matter how shitty life gets. I probably wouldn’t fear death if it wasn’t for great books, movies, music, and, of course, my family, but all that is besides the point. The point is, I don’t want my enjoyment of these things and people to end. Seems like a cruel joke, really. And yet one of those things I love so much are walking corpses.
I’ve loved zombies for a long time, my first being the movie The Return of the Living Dead, and I can’t say why. But I can tell you that watching zombie movies and reading zombie books helps me face that fear of dying.
So, pick a beverage of choice on this Father’s Day, sit back and read Rhonda’s guest visit to the Whatnot blog. There’s even a nifty poem.
Have you STILL not joined the Summer of Zombie Blog Tour? What are you waiting for? Okay, I’ll wait.
Good, you’re back. Now here’s a guest post from the lovely Rhonda Parrish. She even wrote us a poem! The last stanza made me laugh.
Why I (Still) Love Zombies
by Rhonda Parrish
“You still like zombies?” she asked, taking a sip of her designer coffee and looking at me like something she scraped off her shoe. “But they are so overdone!”
And sure, recently there has been a freaking huge influx of zombified fiction (book-shaped and otherwise). And no, when we get around to it in the alphabet anthologies I’m editing I won’t be making Z is for Zombie, but you’re damned right I still loves me some zombies.
I’ve been fascinated with zombies since I was about eight years old. That’s when, at a family Christmas dinner…
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