Hey scrumptious brains, Scott here. My Necromancers have just finished their third redraft of my novel. They tell me they want to send it to the Yeovil literary prize in May. I can’t wait that long! If it doesn’t win then it will have to do the rounds with publishers, other competitions, etc. Ok, I may not have an expiry date on my life but they do. I don’t want them to be one of those writers whose genius is only discovered after they’ve died! What use is that to me? I’ll be left languishing in my freezer. That’s not a worthy fate for a special zombie such as myself. I want them to write ‘Scott reserves the right to eat anyone’s brain who doesn’t publish his book’ at the end of the covering letter but they feel this might jeopardise their chances. Chances? Well they’re not exactly best sellers doing it their way! A light hearted threat could be just what they need. No-one else will have thought of it. It could be their unique selling point – a hungry zombie. I’d better make sure I keep up with my embalming and fake tanning, for the book launch and festivals I’ll be invited to. I have to be at their book launch. I’m the main star. Without me their book wouldn’t exist and they would be living their lives without the constant threat of having their brains eaten. How boring would that be? I like to think I’m the reason they work so fast. They claim it’s all the Red Bull they drink but I know better. Red Bull won’t hack open their skulls.
I’m trying to convince them to self-publish so I (I mean they) can have full control over the cover, design, layout, font & full profit, but they claim they’ll suck at the selling part. That’s true. They couldn’t sell brains to a zombie. They also worry they won’t know when the book is good enough to publish. I tell them it doesn’t matter how crap their writing is, all that matters is that I come across well. They just glare at me and threaten to lace my brains with peanuts. There’s no reasoning with some people.
They still haven’t got round to making their I ♥ Scott the Zombie t-shirts, with my Facebook and Twitter accounts on the back. I’m very disappointed. How am I supposed to become a superhero with my own merchandise when my Necromancers are letting me down? I want Scott the Zombie clothes, keyrings, mousemats, mugs, stickers, toys. Hell I’ll even endorse products, like other desperate, fame hungry celebrities. Once they’ve learned the secret of my everlasting youth, they’ll be queuing up to get embalmed – it gets injected and staves off rot. It’s the new Botox, baby! 😀
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