The Future of Pandemic Fiction

No one wants to read a book about murderous stalkers when they have been finding footprints in the bushes outside their bedroom window. I don't want to turn my face from a broadcast about COVID-19's death toll and open to a chapter about failed containment in World War Z.

Dead End

Maybe that was all he wanted, at first—a laugh. One night of blood-soaked earth for one really great chuckle. One thing was, without a doubt, not a “maybe”: after that first day, that first great laugh, someone was going to have to stop him.

It was just too good a joke to stop telling.

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