Sean sure knows how to rock out with his cocks out. He’s made this chicken funky since I started reading his epic mind-fuckery years ago. His most recent incarnation of a literary acid trip, THE INFECTS, had no less of an effect than previous works but I noticed some differences. I had to ask Sean about them and he even answered. I’m the luckiest little fangirl ever. Fried chicken, zombies and Sean Beaudoin make for an insane combination. If you haven’t read THE INFECTS yet be sure you do. It’s available today and I’m pretty sure it’ll make you boycott all forms of fried chicken, not just the homophobic kind. Thanks for stopping by, Sean!
What made you decide to mutate your zombies, make them, for a lack of better words, evolve?
What is it about the human brain that we always have to envision ourselves at the height of culture and physiological development? The Sumerians thought they had the best religion, political system, and literature in the history of the world. And five thousand years ago, they were right. The Romans were right too, until the Goths sacked them into submission. France was right at the time of Louis the XVI, the Germans were right at the time of Weimar, and we’ve been right in 1776, 1876, and 1976. The thing is, we have no clue not only who we’re going to be, but what we’re going to be in 2076. Or if we’re going to be at all. In three hundred years we may all have insect wings, or be disembodied heads floating in vats of saline and electrolytes. Or we may devolve and live underground like voles. I guess my point is that all of us becoming zombies seems as likely an outcome as any other. Why would zombiedom necessarily be a step backward?
THE INFECTS appears to be tamer in terms of your usual mind-fuckery. Is this just me or have you toned it down a tad when compared against FADE TO BLUE or WESLEY PAYNE?
Well, if there’s any toning down it wasn’t a conscious choice. I think zombies inherently bring a lot of blown minds to the table without needing to be larded with the metaphysic or overly conceptual. On the other hand, maybe the mean nurse on the ward has started to palm my medication and sell it in the alley out back.
Is there really a not-so-subtle and nominally serious bit of commentary on America’s fast food nation and the over-production of meat a la Perdue and Tyson in your book or am I simply having a stroke?
You are having a stroke. And your response in the first three minutes is vital to your future quality of life. Here is what I suggest: locate a salt shaker and immediately swallow the entire contents. Next, cook and eat several steaks and then down an entire jar of peanut butter with a spoon. Finally, change into some sweats and watch a Million Dollar Listing marathon on Bravo.
The end of THE INFECTS leaves a few doors open. Have you fallen into the pit of YA series or are you just a horrible, horrible tease?
I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to write an Infects sequel. I guess the sales numbers will let me know if I need to. The end does sort of leave it wide open for another book, but it really wasn’t as intentional as it might seem. Since I’m such a famous and powerful author, I was able to work into my contract that I have the option of whether or not to continue the Nero saga. In the meantime, my next book is a punk rock diary called Wise Young Fool that will be out August 2013, and it has zero zombie content.
If you could draft your favorite zombie writer into your evolving zombie army, who would it be and why? Would you want to collaborate with him or her (in zombie form, of course)?
My favorite zombie writer is Jonathan Franzen. I definitely want to go (zombie) bird watching with him, but I don’t know about writing a book together. I guess if Oprah is into it, I’m in.
Discuss, in a short paragraph, your feelings regarding SEAN OF THE DEAD.
You are speaking, I take it, of the one-man rock opera that I wrote and performed for my extended family in my grandmother’s living room when I was twelve?
Or do you mean Shaun of the Dead? I dug that movie. Like all of the best zombie fare, it was amusing without really trying too hard to be.
What’s your favorite artery-clogging fast food joint and has your own book made you shy away from it a bit more as of late?
Fast food freaks me out. I literally haven’t eaten McDonalds since 1986. My abstention is not so much political in nature–although I’m sympathetic to that line of thinking–as it is that factory scale meat processing strikes me as hallucinatory and demented. To be able to sit down and eat a Quarter Pounder with bacon and cheese you simply can’t allow yourself to ponder the steps required for it to arrive boxed and steaming in front of you. I wanted readers to think about that just a little bit, without being preachy. Personally, I’d always rather hear a good chicken-anus joke than listen to a lecture. And the bottom line is that people are going to eat what tastes good to them, regardless. But so are zombies. And, as we all know, zombies mostly prefer sweaty, alienated teenagers.
Brains or intestines?
I’ve had sweetbreads before and I’ve always found them to be slick and unpleasant. They taste like debauchery. Or maybe they just taste like death. On the other hand, I’ve enjoyed tripe tacos in Mexico a number of times. It helps to have had some tequila. So, I’m going with intestines. Hands down.