Surely, Even in Dystopia...

Let me begin by saying I love Dystopian fiction. I also love post-apocalyptic tales of any kind and have since I was young child. It's true folks, I can be a bleak person. But one thing about most visions of post-disaster Dystopia that I can't fathom is the nearly universal idea that books will be valued merely for starting campfires.

This doesn't seem to jive with our human need for entertaining our imaginations. And surely, even in a world where one is forced to fight to the death over a bar of soap, there are down moments where he or she wants entertained. When all those DVD players and hi-fi portable stereos fail to work, would books not benefit from their low technology? Would not their value increase in a community to a level they once were before television?

Of course, I must rule out any future where people forget how to read. In that situation, well, naturally a book burns real good. But I don't see that happening unless everyone surviving is illiterate. I will also give a pass to stories where books are a metaphor for thoughts, I'm talking to you Fahrenheit 451. But otherwise, I happen to believe books would benefit from a global meltdown. It's the current trek of Western Society that threatens the value of a book more than any downturn.

So why does this flaw so often appear in such stories?

Simple. It's a writer's worst nightmare. When thinking up a nightmarish society, we always want to include a place where books are used as toilet paper. But if we stop to think about...it just doesn't seem logical. Besides, books are already being recycled to become things like egg cartons and yes, toilet paper.

Dreaming of the Coming Apocalypse

Perhaps it's just my pessimistic nature, or maybe it has something to do with growing up under the leadership of an Apocalyptic Reagan, but for some reason I've always held this belief that I would be alive to see the end of our civilization - and unfortunately, survive it. My dreams this weekend have done nothing to quell those instincts.

I can vividly remember my first Post-Apocalyptic dream from my early adolescence. A tattered movie screen hung in front of a rust desert that was once a city, where charred people fought over the last scrap of food. My attempt to write that dream down was one of my first determined efforts at writing. In fact, images from that dream have shown up in several of my books.

Many other such dreams have followed since that first one. I average a few end-of-the-world dreams per year. However, in the last month or so, I'm setting a new record. I've had at least five, and two this very weekend (on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, no less...hmmmm). These recent dreams have been a little different in that they are clearly of the Zombie Apocalypse variety of fighting off the mindless hoards. Though I fully admit some in the past year have had clear indicators such as hours spent playing a certain video game or watching a certain movie, this weekend had no such direct indicators.

Standard dream interpretation suggests these type of dreams are anxiety driven by a fear of a major shift in you beliefs or situation. But mine are a little different in that I'm always sure of survival. I prefer to stick with idea of them being prophetic. In which case, it may be time to stock up on the canned goods and weapons. The zombies are coming folks. In fact, they may already be among us (ummm...shameless Zombies Blondes plug, because even in end times I need to sell some books).

Oh, a little tidbit from the last dream...for some reason, Beverly Hills and Haight District will be spared. So pack your bags folks, the party is in California!