I’ve lost count of how many people I have recommended this book to, and/or bought this book for. Twenty? Thirty? Fifty? Maybe more. It is just one of those rare books you start to read and then just cannot stop, no matter what else is happening in your life that demands your immediate attention. You. Cannot. Stop. And then, when you come to the end of it, you’re all like HOLY FUCK, did that just really happen? That was INCREDIBLE!

Then you turn back to the beginning and read it all over again.

The thing is, I’m not that into zombies, as a rule, and that is what we’re dealing with here: zombies. I mean, I enjoy the ridiculously campy Resident Evil movies and I still think the addition of the Dreadfuls to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice (already beloved of me) was a stroke of staggering genius. Shaun of the Dead is one of the funniest movies I have ever seen, and I really liked the clever novel Night of the Living Trekkies, which had the undead take over a science fiction convention, controlled by a malevolent alien force. But by and large, zombies are my absolute last supernatural creature of choice, by a long, long way -- it goes vampires, demons, elves, dwarfs, shapeshifters, the fae, werewolves, pagan gods and/or demigods, ghosts, dragons, angels, mummies… and then, keep on going a mile or two till you come to zombies.

My issues with zombies are manifold, but I guess my main ones are that they a) eat people, b) are mindless and c) decaying. To all of which I say an emphatic: “Ew, gross!” Movie zombies in particular freak me out; I’ve been forced to sit through more than my share of George Romero flicks with friends, and all I can say is, I think my friends may actually hate me.

So, what of the zombies in Feed? Oh, they’re still pretty irksome. They’re reanimated flesh craving humans to snack on, they gradually fall to pieces, they moan and gurn and lose all sense of self -- they can neither laugh nor cry. They travel in packs that are ever more cunning the larger they get, and -- horrors! -- the fresher ones can even chase you down at a pretty fast run. They’re proper things that go bump in the night… and in the daytime, too.

But I think I am better disposed towards these zombies than any others I have encountered elsewhere in fiction because of the skilful, evocative and yet matter-of-fact manner in which author Mira Grant (the open penname of the amazingly talented Seanan McGuire) reports on the facts of the case at hand, under the guise of our first person narrator, Georgia Mason. She recounts her reality so succinctly and yet so compellingly that we are immediately drawn into that perilous, post-zombie-apocalyptic world. She tells us everything: where they came from; how to fight them; what the world is like now that they shamble among us.

She does a spectacular job.

Georgia is a blogger, affiliated with the “Newsies”, that section of the online community most concerned with factual reporting. Her brother, Shaun, is an “Irwin”, an intrepid (read slightly insane) thrill-seeker who travels into dangerous, zombie-ridden zones in order to fight the “infected” and stream the footage back to his eager site traffic. (Yes, they’re named for Steve Irwin.) Forming a triumvirate with the two, extremely co-dependent, Masons, is one Georgette Meissonier, though she prefers to go by the name Buffy. (Because she's blonde, cute, and lives in a world full of zombies.) Buffy is what is called a “Fictional”, and she spends her time online writing deathless poetry and prose about life in a zombiefied world. Together, they are After the End Times, and the big happening at the beginning of the book is that they, of all the bloggers in all the world, are chosen to accompany Presidential hopeful Senator Ryman around the country throughout his campaign.

By this stage, we’ve only just met these people, and we are as excited by this turn of events as they are. After all, a coup like this is going to do wonders for their ratings!

Ratings? In a zombie book? Oh my, yes! Georgia spends an inordinate time concerned with their ratings, especially for someone living in a world plagued by the living dead. And that is a big part of what makes Feed so completely unique in its field.

When the zombie apocalypse comes, as come it surely will, much of the prescient literature and cinema that has come before tends to suggest a dystopian, End of Days scenario. Governments collapse, the law of the jungle reigns, technology is a thing of the past and society breaks down into lawless anarchy, with only a few plucky bands of stalwart survivors managing to retain a shred of their human decency.

Feed is not that kind of zombie tale. A fact for which Georgia -- George, to her friends, of which I am assuredly one -- gives credit to those very Romero movies that I hate, for giving the population a heads up on how to handle the undead (shoot for the head, don’t get bitten, etc.), and therefore enabling them to fight back. Oh, the zombies are still out there. We meet one on the very first page, and hundreds more by the end. But while George may indeed live in a perilous and post-zombie-apocalyptic world, it is not a complete write off. People are isolated and afraid, yes. Dining in an open air restaurant is considered brave and bold, and there’s no longer much of a club scene. No one goes to a park just for fun anymore. ’Cause, y’know. Zombies.

But the basic tenets of civilization seem to have held true. There is still a central government, still a zealous police force, still a medical community working together to keep those who might be infected from infecting others. This is a fully-realized world with an epidemiology that makes all kind of sense. It’s cool. It’s comforting. And it’s all told to us in the wry, erudite tones of a woman who is whip smart, very determined, enjoyably sarcastic, profoundly dedicated and almost fanatically attached to her brother.

I like George so much, I can even overlook that last part. And Shaun’s pretty cool too, so… yeah. I mean, they love each other like crazy, but not in that Jaime/Cersei way. At least, I think. They’re just… tight. And, also? Not even related by blood. Which makes their hopeless devotion to each other less questionable, somehow.

Anyway. George, Shaun and the often lachrymose but technically-gifted Buffy head out on the road with the Senator, and have many adventures. There are battles exciting and upsetting, both against the monsters and against their political and ideological enemies. There are shocks and twists and sudden shifts in perspective, all heralded by some very clever interstitial snippets culled from their respective blogs. There is a real sense of forward momentum in the book, of rushing headlong toward something, and when it gets there, it is perhaps the biggest surprise I have ever experienced in all my decades of reading the work of some of the world’s best minds.

It’s mind-blowing. Seriously, I had to put the book down and just stare out into nothingness for a while, as my brain caught up with events as they had just played out. I believe all I was capable of saying at the time was: “Woah. Fuck. Woah.”

Basically, just read this book. Even if you’re not really into zombies. Even if you think following a political campaign sounds like a bit of a bore. Even if you don’t normally agree with a single one of my reviews and only read them in order to seek out those things that I hate, and avoid those things I love. (You know who you are.) Go. Read. Be blown away.

You’ll thank me.

You know, now that I think about it, there is more zombie stuff that I like. AMC’s The Walking Dead held me transfixed last year, and I really enjoyed Zombieland. But, honestly? There is not a zombie story anywhere that compares to Feed. For mine, it is the single best genre book of last year, bar none, and I am not the only one that thinks so. It has been nominated for the 2011 Hugo, and if it doesn’t win, it will be a crying shame.

I know I’ll shed a tear or two. Which, at any rate, will at least prove that I’m not a zombie.

   -- Rachel Hyland