I’ve scraped my words over the 30,000 mark with commas dangling from the rafters, with questions left unpunctuated, passive sentences lying like doorstops, and adjectives sneaking in at every available opportunity, and now a couple of zombies just bit the leading actress in Part Three: (The man with) One Yellow Shoe.
This isn’t a zombie book. I mean it’s kind of heading towards the apocalypse so in all fairness a few dead folk may or may not rise at the end, but they certainly should not be making an appearance at the 30,000 word mark; and they should not be running around the set of The Breakfast Club interacting with the actors. Poor Harvey Cadell has enough to deal with; it’s not good for a heart that’s a little bit yellow. But it’s okay, I’ve let him sit down a second to have a cup of coffee in the Whistle Stop Cafe.
