The End

I finished my novel, The Arctic Heart, at 52,386 words, 166 pages and a bajillion chapters. (I stopped counting chapters when I realized the order could be thrown entirely upon revision.) It's a personal achievement.

I first conceived of The Arctic Heart several years ago. It started with the title, the image of a schooner and the idea for a zombie romance. I remember drawing that title and ship dozens of times in different notebooks, talking to Rashad about it at work and staying up late into the night thinking about plot and characters.

I couldn't put it down from my mind. Starting out during the Revolutionary War, finding these undead British soldiers on a ship adrift in the Atlantic ... Trying to separate themselves from the hellish existence they'd been trapped to ... The examinations of war, man's nature and religion ... The awkward romance between the main characters ... And the beautiful but tragic ending. I love it all.

I'm not a big fan of Zombie movies. I like a couple, sure. Shaun of the Dead and the Night of the Living Dead remake from 1990. And I enjoy Robert Kirkman's The Walking Dead comics. I tried reading Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, but the Jane Austen stuff was still to dry.

My book is a unique take on the zombie genre, the way I look at the virus and it's affects on the body. I feel like I've created a believable science that creates new opportunities for a Zombie story. It allows for romance, which I'm not sure has ever been done before. I'm not really concerned with it's uniqueness or appeal, though. Sure, I'd like to see success for this down the road, but right now I'm just glad I finished it.