Today’s guest post comes from Colleen of Lavender Lines. Here’s a bit about Colleen:
I’m a book crazy writer who will need to live to be about 300 in order to read all the books currently on my to-read list. When I’m not reading I am either writing, editing or cleaning up some kind of bird crap.
A zombie love story (of sorts)
Oh, original Night of the Living Dead, how I love thee. I love thee for scaring my pants off without making me want to puke my guts out. I love thee for turning a simple zombie movie into a commentary on group dynamics and power struggles. I love thee for introducing me to the greatness of ballet flats and flipped out hair.
I discovered you first not in a movie theatre, but in a crappy second hand book store in the fifty cent bin. You were a far cry from the Sweet Dreams books I had been addicted to and you opened up my eyes to the fact that not all books were about attracting boys. At least not living ones. You turned me on to horror and scary literature and while I quickly moved on to Stephen King, John Saul and Edgar Allan Poe, you, Night of the Living Dead, you were my first horror love.
I have had relationships with other zombie movies also, but none come close to your perfection. Black and white, grainy with the creepiest movie soundtrack ever, the slew of copy-cat movies don’t even come close to your quiet brilliance. As for zombie books, many adorn my shelves but you still hold a special place in my heart (and hopefully a box in my basement, since second hand copies of you are now unbelievable pricey).
Every year around this time, as the temperature cool and the air takes on the scent of apples and Halloween kisses, I turn to you for inspiration. Although now that I live in an old farmhouse on several acres of land and can often imagine zombies staggering up from the woods, we may not get our Halloween date this year. But that, in and of itself, is a testament to your greatness.
Oh yes, Night of the Living Dead, I love thee.
