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"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov

Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."

Friday, August 29, 2014

I'm Not Going in on Fancy Robotic Hands and Shit Like That: An Interview with Ian McClellan, author of ONE UNDEAD STEP

Well, hey there everybody.  If you've been following me on social media at all, you probably know that I have what can only be described as a complete and unabashed man-crush on today's guest.  Except if I was any kind of a good writing guy or something I wouldn't have worded that so awkwardly.  So.  Moving on.

Ian McClellan!  Let's meet him now.  And interview him!  Also, ONE UNDEAD STEP!  Rave reviews!

About Ian McClellan:

Swear to God this is the promotional image he gave me.  You people think I fuck around with my guests, but really, it's my guests who fuck around with me.  Yeah, I'm talking about you, too, Warren Fielding, with the stick figure.

Ian McClellan was born in a small harbor town in southwest Ireland. In an effort to be cliche his parents moved the family to New York when he was thirteen. Once a promising up-and-comer in the world of competitive eating, his career was cut short by an ACL injury. He now resides in Florida with his dogs and drives a truck for a living, but is crossing his fingers and hoping his writing career will earn him enough money that he can tell his boss where to stick it.


SK:  A fan has famously said of your novel ONE UNDEAD STEP, “OK, well I've read the first 5 chapters. I nearly had to cut my hands off to stop myself reading more.” Had this poor unfortunate actually followed through with his plan, would you have felt obliged to pay the medical bills?

IM:  I don't know, man. How much are we talking here? I'm a pretty no frills kind of guy. I'm not going in on fancy robotic hands and shit like that for the guy. If he keeps it simple like I would, I'll consider chipping in. Ever seen Kingpin? Something like that.

SK:  So, in my guest policy I specifically mentioned wanting to talk to a beer truck driver, and yet I had to seek YOU out for this interview. How is that supposed to make ME feel?

IM:  Sorry, but I totally missed that. Being a beer truck driver isn't as great as you might think. Sure, I make good money, and get a lot of beer for free, and chicks that are way out of my league flirt with me all the time, but no one really cares about the real Ian. It's all about the uniform. Where's our parade, man?

SK: You are my first fellow Severed Press author (amputee?) to come on the blog! (Other Severed alums, please take note of the instant swell in Ian’s cachet as a result.) What’s it been like for you working with the Wonder from Down Under?

IM:  Look, I really dig you, and I'm happy to be here and appreciate your having me, but I can assure you that there is no swelling in my crotch. Really, though, not one Severed Press author? Maybe they don't realize you're open to interviews and whatnot. I'll ask a few of the ones I know to get in touch with you.

SK:  Tell me about delivering beer. Are you treated as a hero everywhere you go? Do you get to wear shorts, even in the wintertime? I want to grok everything about it.

IM:  We don't have a real wintertime here in Southwest Florida. I've gotten to be such a baby about the weather. I'm miserable when it's below 75 degrees. I'm in and out of coolers all day, which kind of sucks, but I'm working my ass off so it doesn't really bother me too much. I do wear shorts all year. I find working in long pants too restrictive with all the crouching I do. You'd think I'd tan a little, but those calves of mine still look like they're covered in whiteout. They're tight, though, so I guess it's okay. Beats tan chicken legs. I guess I get a little rock star treatment. I get some free drinks when I go out and some of the places I deliver to feed me. I still bring my lunch to work and eat it. I eat all fucking day when I'm at work. I'm like a bottomless pit. The only thing that it doesn't really help is with the ladies. Some of the guys I work with definitely use the uniform to their advantage. Me, I'm hopeless that way. Women will come up and flirt with me and I'll start talking about cartoons or zombie movies, you know, all the things that women find sensual. Maybe they have some preconceived notion about me because I have a lot of ink and drive a beer truck. They're probably not expecting to have a conversation about action figures when they approach me. It's whatever, anyway. I caught a pretty great fish a little over a year ago and I think I'll keep her if she'll have me.

SK:  As an Irish ex-pat (ha! ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! sniffle. sorry, that was just fucking brilliant.) do you miss the Old Sod? Do you remember it at all? Have any plans to get back there?

IM:  I don't get it. Anyway, I don't really have this emotional attachment to the place I was born like a lot of people do. I don't know why, but to me, it's just some place where I used to live. Maybe it's because my childhood wasn't exactly idyllic, so I don't romanticize the background. Or maybe it's because I'm so Americanized now. I call American football just football and call football that horrible shit they show on ESPN every four years. I barely have an accent, although it comes back a little if I watch Father Ted or Gangs of New York. I do still keep a Shillelagh in my pocket, but that's about it as far as my old world habits.

Okay, here's what Ian really looks like.  Uh...sort of?


Good God, who WOULDN'T want to read that?  A moron, that's who.

Many people know that the 1969 moon landing was faked, but are unaware of the actual circumstances. Find out how the U.S. faked the moon landing to avert the zombie apocalypse as the lives of a disgraced B-movie director, a bar owner, some drunks, an Army Ranger unit, a bunch of gangsters, an affluent but very dysfunctional family, and a few cops come together in ONE UNDEAD STEP.

One year after Romero shocked the world with Night of the Living Dead, a small city is rocked by grisly killings, the gory details of which are only known through whispered rumors. The government presence that makes the populace all the more nervous is unable to contain the impending threat that grows out of control on a hot, humid night in Mid-July. As the city’s residents fight for their lives, the Military rushes to make a film about two men landing a small spacecraft on the moon. Will their plan work? Find out as an evil man finds redemption, some soldiers choose between their mission and duty, a young couple finds forbidden love, an older couple reignites their passion, and a bartender gets stiffed for lots of drinks in ONE UNDEAD STEP.

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