{"id":17650,"date":"2015-05-06T06:54:12","date_gmt":"2015-05-06T14:54:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/aidanmoher.com\/blog\/?p=17650"},"modified":"2015-05-06T06:54:12","modified_gmt":"2015-05-06T14:54:12","slug":"the-end-has-come-an-interview-with-jonathan-maberry","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aidanmoher.com\/blog\/2015\/05\/interviews\/the-end-has-come-an-interview-with-jonathan-maberry\/","title":{"rendered":"The End Has Come: An Interview with Jonathan Maberry"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Buy

Buy The End Has Come<\/em><\/a>, edited by John Joseph Adams and Hugh Howey<\/p><\/div>\n

In collaboration with editors John Joseph Adams<\/a> and Hugh Howey<\/a>, A Dribble of Ink is proud to introduce a series of interviews with the authors of The End Has Come<\/em>, the final volume in the The Apocalypse Triptych<\/em>. Following on The End is Nigh<\/em>, and The End Is Here<\/em>, The End Has Come<\/em> contains 23 stories about life after the apocalypse.<\/p>\n

Interview with Jonathan Maberry about \u201cJingo and the Hammerman\u201d<\/h2>\n

(Interview by Hannah Huber)<\/em><\/p>\n

What do you think it is about zombies that make them work as the source of an apocalypse?<\/h3>\n

Zombies are the perfect storytelling metaphor if you want to spin a tale about an extreme crisis, which makes them perfect for apocalyptic and post-apocalyptic storytelling. They represent a massive shared threat: something so big that it impacts every person, every relationship, every aspect of infrastructure, and every element of culture. Nothing escapes that impact. The zombie\u2019s nature, threat, and potential are all easy to grasp, so once they\u2019ve been introduced, they often fade into the background so the story can concentrate on what is most important: human people in the midst of life-changing events. People facing crises is the basis of all drama, and therefore the writer is able to tell any kind of story he or she wants. No other monster is so generous in enabling this, or in sharing the stage.<\/p>\n

In a zombie apocalypse the crisis is so overwhelming that there is no time for us to maintain our affectations of who we pretend to be in day-to-day life. None of us are ever really ourselves \u2013 we edit ourselves depending on the situation. We are different people in public, at home alone, at work, in love, when heartbroken, and so on. Often we play roles that are vastly different from our natural selves, such as feeling \u2018powerful\u2019 because we have money, good looks, or position. In a zombie apocalypse, none of that matters. A captain of industry or a supermodel expect deference as a matter of course, but they might be the first to fall in an apocalyptic scenario. Whereas the bag-boy at the local supermarket might have tremendous but untapped leadership and survival skills. Steel is forged in the heat of a furnace, not while it is ore in the ground.<\/p>\n

Why are they not only frightening, but also emotionally resonant to their audiences?<\/h3>\n

In all good fiction, the zombies are metaphors. In bad fiction, they are the focus of the story, but otherwise, they are stand-ins for other things that disturb us, frighten us, shake our confidence, and make us confront difficult questions about our personal strength, our character, and our ability to confront (and resolve) great challenges. Since the dawn of the zombie genre (1968\u2019s Night of the Living Dead<\/i>) the zombie story has been the vehicle in which we drive through the landscape of our fears. George Romero used zombies to explore the dangers of racism, rampant consumerism, the rise of the military-industrial complex, the impersonal nature of the digital age, and so on. Max Brooks used World War Z<\/i> to explore the dangers of viral pandemics that could spread out of control because of politics and greed. Joe McKinney used Dead City <\/i>and its sequels to discuss the dangers of a faulty government infrastructure during times of crisis. My own novels of the Rot & Ruin<\/i> series delved into post-traumatic stress disorder as well as human corruption and opportunism. Zombie stories allow writers to discuss important topics with readers without making that conversation too obvious, and that allows readers to engage no matter where they align in terms of political party affiliation. This is also why the best science fiction and fantasy works.<\/p>\n

Why are we seemingly readier to believe in a zombie outbreak than in any other kind of apocalypse?<\/h3>\n

We are particularly vulnerable to a new virus or bacterium. That vulnerability has been born out of a rampant and widespread misuse of antibiotics. Doctors prescribe these drugs for viruses because the public believes antibiotics actually work<\/i> \u00a0for those kinds of diseases. Doctors prescribe them to satisfy their patients rather than educate them, or rather than admit that there isn\u2019t much they can do for a flu or common cold. The result is that people have had so much exposure to antibiotics and have used them so incorrectly, that viruses have developed resistance to many of then. New strains of old diseases are presenting, and for many of these there are no treatment options currently available. Add to that the widespread use of antibiotics in chicken, pork, and beef farming. Ask anyone in the World Health Organization, the National Institutes for Health, or the Centers for Disease Control, and they\u2019ll tell you how great a danger this poses. I know \u2013 I\u2019ve asked them all. They have been posting warnings for years, which are unfortunately largely ignored. They all say that it is inevitable that a treatment-resistant flu strain will hit us at some point. That is scary. Zombies are how we talk about the fear of this. It\u2019s why the CDC used zombies as a theme in their public health cautions. People completely ignored the standard viral warning e-mails; but when the zombie one went out, the response was so massive it crashed the CDC servers.<\/p>\n

Moose spends a lot of thought on what keeps Jingo going in the face of hopelessness. He almost seems never to question why he hasn’t given up yet, and he seems to be both a realist and compassionate in the face of suffering \u2013 two character traits that might not be optimal for long-term survival in the face of the apocalypse. What is it that you believe keeps Moose going after the world has ended, and what makes him a better prospect for long-term survival than Jingo?<\/h3>\n

Moose is my proxy in the story. I\u2019m a realist and compassionate idealist. I don\u2019t consider those qualities to be weaknesses. Without them survival, becomes too self-centered. Left alone, a person will ultimately fail to survive because of simple despair. One has to care in order to hope, and without hope, living is nothing more than a routine with finite repetition.<\/p>\n

Moose cares for Jingo and his friend\u2019s enthusiasm \u2013 however misplaced \u2013 and that enthusiasm keeps Moose in the mode of \u2018civilized human\u2019. Moose would probably descend into barbarity or suicide if he didn\u2019t have something or someone to care about.<\/p>\n

What is your Apocalyptic Fiction Required Reading List, and why are each of the entries required reading?<\/h3>\n

When I was a teenager, Richard Matheson gave me a signed first edition of I Am Legend,<\/i> and that will always be at the top of my list. It is the model for all apocalyptic and outbreak stories that followed. And it holds up damn well more than a half century later.<\/p>\n

Other favorites include:<\/p>\n