  Horror/Scary
This week: Looking At It Another Way Edited by: W.D.Wilcox  
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LOOKING AT IT ANOTHER WAY
In the kid's movie, James And The Giant Peach, there's a line in the story where his parents ask him to 'look at things in a different way'. And that is as true in life as it is in writing. So many good ideas, in movies and in books, have been done and redone, hashed and rehashed, it gets to be where the public is just plain tired of the same old story. I mean, really, how many vampire and zombie tales can we withstand before the whole thing becomes boring?
So, when writing, you've got to give things a new twist, make it more interesting. Originality can come from anything if you look at it in a different way.
I remember the old Dracula movies. They were about people who came into contact with a vampire and how it changed their lives. But the new Vamp movies are twisted; they are written from the vampire's point of view. The roles are reversed. Today it is the story 'of' the vampire rather than just a story with a vampire in it. Don't get me wrong, it is still the same old story, only looked at from a different POV.
Nevertheless, I have decided to start a story about a zombie. Now, to be honest, I have never written a zombie story, but the thought occurred to me that even a zombie has a story to tell. Hey, zombies have feelings too, right? I mean, what do we really know about a zombie? Is he just a dead corpse walking around trying to kill and eat people? Or is there more?
What does he feel? What does he think about his situation? What drives him? Is it true that vampires rule and zombies just drool?
So let's get started, I'll show this story from the zombies point of view. I don't know if it's ever been done before, I don't really even care. The fact is that stories are built-up of good characters, and whether it's a zombie or a vampire, if your character is interesting then so is the story, especially if it is done with a new twist.
But before I start, let me give you a little background because the tale is incomplete and needs a crutch of sorts.
Here goes . . .
For some unknown reason, people all over the world are turning into zombies. Is it a government conspiracy? A new secret weapon? Nobody knows for sure. But this tale focuses on a man who awakens to discover that his neighbors have become very, how shall we say, different.
In a desperate attempt to save his family, the man takes his wife and kids on a perilous journey across Tennessee to escape becoming zombies themselves.
They find themselves in an old burnt-out farmhouse, where he secrets his loved ones, leaving them with precious little food and water that he is able to gather, and then heads out to scout the countryside for help.
In his quest, he unknowingly becomes a zombie himself, and cannot find his way back to the farmhouse. This is where the story begins . . . .
Ty Studder had been dead for several days before he realized how hungry he was.
He could smell a thick reek upon himself like the stench of gangrene oozing its way through the stagnant air, and he knew, instinctively, that something was terribly wrong. Even as he climbed a steep hill, hoping to discover where he was and how he had gotten there, he began to realize that he had become an unburied corpse ripe with rot.
He could only recall a fraction of what had happened to him. Everything he remembered was broken, and he was losing more all the time. There just wasn't enough of him to hold it, and his mind was empty of words.
As he wandered the maze of his memories, he knew there was something he was supposed to be doing; something that meant more to him than his yearning to feast upon raw flesh. Confused, he continued to scramble to the top of the hill, his feet dislodging clots of dirt and rocks like scurrying beetles.
As he stumbled to the top, he stood and scanned the area, but nothing looked familiar, and his location was now as useless as the memories that bled out of him.
Yet there was a nagging thought that he worried like the loose teeth in his mouth, and it kept at him until it dripped into the fissures of his dwindling mind, and just as quickly tried to seep away like blood. He had a wife. He had a family. And they were somewhere . . . somewhere waiting. He knew he must find them.
But he was hungry, hungrier than he had ever been before, and his mouth drooled at the thought of their reunion.
He stopped short in his tracks. What? What am I thinking? My God, it's my family.
He bit his lip; swallowed curses, and then sucked at the blood that congealed there. Time was running out.
His thoughts were as alien to him as the speech of the mountains he attempted to climb, but he felt an urgent need to find his wife and daughters, a need that ran deeper than his hunger. But with every moment he delayed, fractures spread into the depths of his soul that could not be endured, and the urge to locate his loved ones and the need to rend flesh, became as one.
His self-command began to crumble, the night filled him like a vessel of darkness. In his desperation, a fresh storm of tears gathered in his eyes, and he wept as if he were being torn out of himself by the roots.
Standing at the top of the hill, his voice thrumming with intensity, he screamed into the night sky the one name he could still remember: "Rachel!"
His voice seemed to echo back from lost stars. It was the stark cry of a man whose wracked heart had been denied, and balling his fist, he pounded at his chest. Shards of pain cut at his core, and then gnawed their way out of his dead flesh as though reveling in rot.
He lowered his head, his face a smear of tears, his body shaking with the effort of stifling his sobs. A whimper that he was barely able to contain clogged his throat. "Rachel . . ." he said again, gasping for breath. But even the frozen air became an ache in his lungs, and the wind was like fingers of ice that tore through his tattered clothes, until only the darkness felt alive.
He prayed for some unforeseen wonder, but realized he didn't believe in them. The only thing he lived for now was to eat. And he couldn't deny or resist the urge any longer.
Until Next Time,
billwilcox
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ZOMBIE SCHMOMBIE
| |  | One and Other (13+)
One man and his dog must survive an unknown virus epidemic. Written in the present tense.
#1022750 by ryguy28896  |
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#1305292 by Not Available. |
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#1343723 by Not Available. |
| |  | Pallor (18+)
A zombie Novella - the end of the world is here, but what does it mean to be human?
#1199465 by Diaboliqua |
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DEAD LETTERS
nishia
Comment:
Hi Bill
Great newsletter! I know exactly what you mean about the beginnings of stories - we all judge things that way (although some people do it by reading the last paragraph), but we don't really realize it. Anyway, just wanted to thank you and maybe help you out with your reading list - read the Stephen King first - it is worth every second of your time!
-Nishia
PSanta-I'm ba-ack!
Comment:
Interesting choice of books. Three of the four are sequels to other books; in two cases the sequel to more than five books. In such cases you have a built in audience who will probably read at least the first chapter no matter what the first line is. Also two of the books are sequels to books written by someone else, Which I consider to be almost plaigerism. In terms of first lines I find that the longer a piece is, the better the first line needs to be. If you want me to read some 79 KB opus those first ten words need to make it impossible to stop.
LJPC - the tortoise
Comment:
Hi Bill!
By the time I got through reading the lovely tree poem, written as glorious visual poetry, I'd forgotten what your NL was about. The beautiful tree took my breath away! Oh, yes - that was it. The NL was about openings that take your breath away. I hope I manage to write one sometime... 
-- Laura
ckhardman
Comment:
I liked the newsletter. Your point is well taken and spoken like a true reader.
PatrickB
Comment:
I really enjoy this newsletter! The craft of writing horror is just as demanding as any other, and this helps. I would like to submit my story for consideration to get it some exposure on the site. Thank you!
"Poe's Daughter"
BIG BAD WOLF is Howling 
Comment:
There are many things that are scary. Some things are always scary, no matter who you are, or where you are from.
"Dead Rising: Your Story"
jlbane
Comment:
Great Article. I truely believe that instinct plays heavily in what we do as writers though I've never really given that much thought. Your story may start well but dies just as fast which could mean that you havn't built enough substance up behind your intro. On a side note, I just started reading Under the Dome. King has such an easy style that is worth learning from even if you don't always agree with the stories he tells.
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Horror/Scary: January 12, 2011 Issue [#4176]
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