New musical crush #1 in a series

It seems like my capacity to develop crushes on musicians is pretty much limitless.Valerie June is one of a couple of new acts (new to me at least) that I've had on heavy rotation as I've been writing lately. And since I've spent so much of the last month writing, that means I've been listening to this a lot.

Rather than fumble around for an inadequate description of her music, why don't you just listen to a little of it? You can than me later.

What's that? I have a blog, you say...?

Did you know that even when I don't write posts here about what I'm doing, things still continue to happen in my life? I know, it's as flabbergasting to me as it is to you... So I thought I'd write a bit of a catch-up post to, you know... catch you up...

The biggest news is that I sent the final edits of Zomburbia off to the printer. Preparing the manuscript for printing basically meant I had to read the novel again and mark any typos or errors I found. Despite having been read many times by many people, I still found a number of both. Typos and errors, I mean. I apparently have a habit of switching from the past to the present tense every so often, and I found errors of continuity that I can't believe were still present this late in the game. Now that those are off, I can devote myself to writing the draft of the sequel, right? Right?

My oldest, Oscar, turned six a few days ago. Do you realize what this means? It means I am the father of a human being who is six years old! I used to write about him (and the rest of my family) more often than I have recently. I might get back to that. For now, here's a photo of one of the cutest creatures on Earth.

Do you think he gave me a bite? No, he did not.

I joined the SFWA (Science Fiction Writers of America) recently. If you aren't a part of the SF community, you may still be aware of the organization because it's going through some growing pains and a lot of its dirty laundry is being exposed. I thought this was a perfect time to join, actually, because I want to be a part of the rising tide which sweeps a lot of bigoted old men out to sea. There, I said it. It felt good.

I am also a member of the HWA (Horror Writers Association. This years's World Horror Con is this coming weekend in Portland, Oregon. I'll be attending, and I'll be taking part in a panel on using Social Media Marketing. The panel will be Friday from 2-3. If you're around, you should come by and watch me struggle to understand what Twitter and Facebook mean...

Finally, a couple of buddies and I are making a short film in a couple of weeks. It's set in the same world as Zomburbia and it should be a blast. I'll write more in a bit about how it all came together and what we've done on it so far. Let me just say here, in case you are my editor or my agent and you're reading this, it's stolen very little time from my writing the next book. I promise.

Zomburbia chapter one

I've written often enough that I have a novel coming out later this year. Perhaps you'd like to read a sample of it? If so, then you are in the right place!

My publisher, Kensington, have given me permission to post the first chapter of Zomburbia here. I'll post link to various online retailers at the end of the excerpt in case you like the sample and want to read more.

ZOMBURBIA
A Zombie Apocalypse Novel
By Adam Gallardo

Chapter One
Good Times at Bully Burger

The night shifts at Bully Burger are the absolute worst. It’s like sitting through a five-hour History lecture from Mr. Chanders, only you have to wear a festively colored polyester uniform while you do it. Maybe a car an hour comes through the drive-thru, and you really get tired of that fearful look people get in their eyes after dark.

The Bully Burger—whose mascot, I swear to God, is a cartoon of Teddy Roosevelt holding a hamburger—is a minor big deal in these parts. Six stores that sprouted up back at the dawn of time. People around here are crazy proud of this homegrown franchise. This particular store, the last one to be built, is at the far end of a developed strip out on Commercial Street. That nicely named strip is where the town started to shove all the franchises and big-box stores in the late ’70s and, as you can imagine, it looks like one long stretch of hell. It’s all Walmarts and Mickey D’s as far as the eye can see. Depressing.

Zomburbia cover image and some quotes

This seems as good a reason to start writing on my blog as any, I guess.

Last week, my editor at Kensington sent me the design for Zomburbia and said I could share it. So that's what I'm gonna do. This is the art that will go on the printed ARCs (advanced reader copies) and so it may be tweaked a bit on the final product, but this should give you a good idea of what it's all about.

I think the designer(s) did a great job. I love the design elements and I think the photo is evocative without being over the top gory. I'm just over the goddammed moon about this and can't wait to hold the final product in my hand.

If you feel a similar desire, perhaps you'd consider pre-ordering the book. Something that's very helpful, I understand. I'll post links to different web sites below, but first, this:

And here are those links:
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Powell's
Indie Bound

You'll notice that the pages for the book on those sites currently lack any cover art or description. Well, as an enticement, let me hit you with a couple of quotes from folks who've already read the book:

"What if the zombie apocalypse didn't get all that apocalyptic? What if life
went on pretty much as normal for most kids, except it was incredibly
dangerous just getting to and from high school? What would it be like togrow up in a weird but eerily familiar Zomburbia? Meet Courtney, a flawedbut spunky teen, and her misfit pals who are trying to find their places ina world where death lurks around every corner. Readers are guaranteedplenty of mayhem and romance, laughter and heartbreak in Adam Gallardo'saccomplished debut novel."-- James Patrick Kelly, winner of the Hugo, Nebula and Locus awards

"If you haven't read Zomburbia, you haven't read about zombies. This is a new take and it is scary, freaky, and original. Gallardo resets the zombie bar and it's sky-high. Get this book!"-- Nancy Holder, NYT Bestelling Author, The Wicked Saga

Man, if those don't make you want to read the book, I don't know what will. (I really, really hope those make you want to read the book...)

Next time I'll write a bit about what's going on with Zomburbia schedule-wise, and what's going on with the sequel.

Yours in self-promotion...

The Blow

This was a long time ago. It was the first year of Portland's Time Based Arts Festival, I think, so call it maybe twelve or thirteen years ago. A friend invited me to one of the festival's after-parties. I went despite not knowing what time based art was. It seemed (and seems) that all art is time based. Anyway. The party took place in a warehouse space. It was jammed with people, a bar, free food and, at one end, a stage. I knew that there's be a show of some sort by a band called The Blow.

After a while, I girl came out. Blonde and tiny. She carried a boom box. She approached the mic and did her best to get the attention of the crowd. It took a while. Finally, when the majority of people had quieted down, she told us all that the band was running late and that they'd sent her out to entertain us until they were ready. She started to tell a rambling story about (I think) going on a drive with a boy and the conversation they'd had. After a while, she said that it might be better if she sang the next part. She bent over and pressed play on the boom box and began to sing.

It was at that moment that I figured out this girl was The Blow and that everything she had said and done from the very first moment had been part of her act. And I was smitten. I've been a fan of hers ever since through a number of incarnations. All because she played so expertly with my sense of expectation

I called her tiny earlier. Well, as the performance went on, she seemed to grow bigger and bigger with each new song. Honestly, I think I've only had one other musical experience that was like it. I felt like it reshaped me.

Right. What's this got to do with anything? I've been thinking about what I want to do with Zomburbia. You know, my debut YA novel which will be out from Kensington Books next year... I've had a couple of conversations lately about including a message in a story. Does Zomburbia have a message? Yep, and I hope I've sneaked it in in such a way that almost invisible. No matter how important your message, no one's going to get it if it isn't wrapped up in a good story. I hope that's what I've done. I hope I've crafted a novel that walks out on stage, presents itself as one thing – a good horror story – and is in truth something else as well.

Have I succeeded? How the hell should I know? I just wrote the thing. I'll have to wait until the book is out and see what people think of it to know how well I did.

By the way, as I write this, I'm listening to the new self-titled album by The Blow. It came out earlier this month, and it's excellent. I can't recommend it enough.

That's all for now.

People I know write things: Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam

I know a lot of very nice, very talented people. Enough that I'm going to start highlighting when one of them goes and gets something published.

First up is Bonnie Jo Stufflebeam, whom I know from Stonecoast, and who may have the best name of any genre writer ever. A new story of hers, The Siren, has just been posted over at Strange Horizons. You should follow this link now and read it.

It occurs to me as I write this that I should go back in time a bit and write about some other folks I know who've published books, actual, real books, in the recent past. Soon, my pet, soon...

Man, Myth and Magic

I originally wrote this post for Triptych, the web comic I created with Devon Devereaux. I liked it a lot and wanted to share it here just in case there are folks who aren't reading the comic. Though, I can't understand why you wouldn't be. Anyway, here's the post:

My first exposure to the occult came in the form of Richard Cavendish’s 24-volume Man, Myth and Magic. I still remember the shock I felt looking through those books for the first time. It was similar to the feeling I had the first time I looked at porn – though I knew it wasn’t technically illicit since my parents had it on a shelf I could easily access. It’s hard for me to imagine why those volumes were in the house. It must have been because of my mother. She had a passing interest in all things spiritual.Tarot decks were common in our house, and we had a Ouija board. So, I suppose that answers that.

I first discovered these books, collections of articles which appeared in Cavendish’s magazine of the same name, when I was six. I can still feel the cold concrete floor beneath me as I looked through the volumes. Every page seemed to bring an electric thrill as image after image flooded into my wee brain. At that age, of course, all I did was look at the pictures. Later I read the damned thing from beginning to end and would regularly re-read articles as I grew older. There were articles on demons, ritual scarification, witchcraft, cannibalism, and so much more. I encountered some 1,000 articles as I looked through those books. And I would only ever look at it in that room, I’d certainly never have taken it into the room where I slept. In those days, I was a true believer. Of everything. I’ve changed since then – nowadays I feel like I don’t believe in anything. I don’t know that I recommend either state.

There’s a feeling I’ve had a few times in my life as I experience a piece of art. I’ve tried to explain it at different times with varying degrees of success. Sometimes as I look at or read a piece of art, I feel something happening in my brain – I feel something inside me reconfiguring itself. Later in life, I began to feel that this was my body preparing itself to download new software. It was a physical manifestation of how art can change one’s perceptions. I’ve felt it looking at the art of Basil Wolverton, reading the Revelation of St. John, watching films like Altered States and Videodrome. And the first time I ever felt it was looking through those strange volumes of Man, Myth and Magic.

I think my parents sold those volumes when they moved from that house where I’d grown up. Even if they didn’t, that’s when I lost track of the books. In the years since then I’ve searched half-heartedly for them. I remember finding a complete set at least a decade ago. The bookstore was asking the ungodly sum of $200 and there was no Triptych.
way I could have afforded that at the time. I don’t even know if I’d want them again at this point. I’m sure that everything I found scary and thrilling and new about them would seem now, nearly 40 years on, creaky and silly. I think I’d rather keep my memories intact. Especially because those books have informed so much of what I have written and what I plan to write. They certainly inform everything I’m doing with