And another rave!
Dr. Pus, the eccentric host of the zombie-centric podcast Library of the Living Dead, has been doing story-by-story reviews of the zombie anthologies, and this week in episode 29 he looked at my story, "Till the Lord Comes," from The Undead vol. 2: Skin & Bones.
The podcast is rather large--okay, HUGE, 111MB--but if you're interested and have broadband, he talks about my story at around the 31:47 mark and has some very nice things to say about my protagonist Timothy, the plot ("just an incredible take on the zombie genre...a creepy-as-hell tale"), and my madd writing skillz ("Standridge is absolutely wonderful...just a riveting story").
I could transcribe more, but I'm too modest. :)
Anyway, you can stream the 2-hour podcast at the above link, or download it and skip ahead to the 3-4 minutes about yours truly. Or you can send me an email and I'll burn you a cd.
Hey, if I don't promote myself, who will? :)
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Another Undead review...
Posted by Scott at 1:27 PM
Labels: Non-poetry, Zombie Anthologies
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5 comments:
You are all revved up because Dr. Pus gave you a rave review. If you step back from this a little and look at it objectively, it is frickin' hilarious. Dr. Pus loves me! ...Yeah, ok, great.
Now, stepping back into the fray, congrats. If Dr. Pus loves it, it MUST be good!
(Can I say I knew you when?)
Hey, he seems like a nice enough guy. You're just anti-pustulent, aren't you? In this day and age... :)
The main thing is--and you know this--is that somebody out there who's interested in this kind of thing and who doesn't know me from Dubya went out of his way to say it was good. Which to me is a big deal.
Because I always worry when you say I'm brilliant, Greeny, that you're only doing that so our kids can continue to play together. ;)
Well, if my name were Dr. Scrofula would you take me more seriously?
If your area of interest were historical fiction about The King's Evil, then yes, I would. :)
I do take you seriously, of course--I'm just perversely insecure and egotistical at once, thinking that your compliments are not due to my writing ability, but rather to my irresistible charm and conversational wit.
It's a sickness, I know.
I read you more than I talk to you, so I would say no, that's not it.
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