I couldn’t think of one reason why you should buy my book.
I thought of fifty.
I wrote it.
That means I know everything about it, so you can trust my opinion when I tell you to buy it. No conflict of interest there.
It’ll make you a better parent.
It’s hard to be Mom or Dad of the Year if your kids are eaten alive right in front of you.
You don’t need kids to read it.
You could save somebody else’s kids. Or sit back and watch them get eaten. After reading this book, you’ll have options.
A tree died for it.
I don’t need oxygen. I’m an adult. I can hold my breath.
It helps the economy.
If you don’t buy this book, you hate America. Or whatever country you live in.
It makes a great conversation piece.
If someone sees this on your bookshelf, they’ll ask fun questions like, “Why did you buy that?” and “What’s wrong with you?”
It’s 100 percent snake-free.
I checked twice. No snakes will jump out of my book. Not even harmless garter snakes.
No animals died in the printing this of this book. Although when I was writing it, I did eat some pork chops.
I don’t even know what gluten is, but I had my book tested, and it came back negative.
It doesn’t need batteries.
Unless you bought the ebook. Then blame your Kindle or Nook, not me.
It has words.
Not to brag, but my vocabulary contains literally dozens of them.
It’s better than a college degree.
Four years of art history won’t help you survive the apocalypse.
It’ll make my kids happy.
When you buy this book, it helps me buy groceries. My kids like to eat. They’re quirky like that.
It’ll make your kids happy.
Being eaten by zombies makes kids sad. Buy this book to keep your children happy and undigested.
It doesn’t spontaneously combust.
It’s been on my desk for days and it’s not even smoking.
My wife still hasn’t finished reading it.
She’s scared of what I wrote about our family. Read it to see if her worst fears came true.
The zombies don’t want you to buy it.
When is the last time you listened to a zombie?
Kim Jong-un doesn’t want you to buy it.
I mean, he’s never heard of it. But this book will keep you alive, and he would hate that.
It has nothing to do with politics.
This is literally the only collection of words in the English language that doesn’t mention the political situation in America today. Thankfully, none of that stuff will matter when the world ends.
Perfumed books attract zombies.
There are no health restrictions on reading it.
You can read it if you’re nursing, pregnant, or may become pregnant.
10 out of 10 dentists agree that reading my book won’t give you cavities.
It doesn’t have a corny romantic subplot.
It doesn’t have any plot at all. It’s still a better love story than Twilight.
I’ll stop asking you to buy the book for yourself.
Although I might ask you to buy a second copy. Save a friend, you selfish jerk.
It’s tax deductible.
Assuming you own a business that involves surviving the zombie apocalypse.
It counts as a first aid device.
It’ll save more lives than CPR ever will.
It can cool you down.
Open it up and wave it like a fan. It’s cheaper than air conditioning.
It fits in your hand and can be carried anywhere. No extension cords required.
It doesn’t need to be refrigerated.
I’ve had mine sitting out for days and it still hasn’t gone bad.
It can be used for self-defense.
The pages could give a zombie a nasty paper cut.
It’ll make you feel better about yourself.
Raising kids in the zombie apocalypse might be the only thing worse than your life right now.
It proves books aren’t dead.
Humanity might be doomed, but the written word isn’t.
It makes a great family heirloom.
Your children will love to inherit it. They’ll be alive because of me.
It’s not addictive.
The book contains no nicotine or other habit-forming substances.
It won’t set off metal detectors.
My publisher wanted to engrave this book on steel plates, but I said no.
It pairs well with most wines.
I have yet to find a vintage that doesn’t taste good while reading it.
It’ll help you get revenge.
The best revenge is a life well-lived, and your life will definitely be better if you survive the apocalypse.
It kills spiders.
But not automatically. You have to swing the book and smash them. If you don’t buy this book, the spiders win.
It’s easier than writing your own book.
Writing it took me months. Reading it will take you hours. Talk about a time saver.
It’ll help your love life.
You can’t get any dates if you’re dead. Or undead.
You can read it while eating pancakes.
Actually, you can read it while eating anything. It only requires one hand.
It’s made of matter.
There’s not one molecule of dangerous anti-matter inside.
It’s a paperweight.
A book made of paper weighing down other paper? We’re in inception territory.
It can save your marriage.
Reading makes you smarter, and smarter people stay married longer.
It doesn’t have obnoxious LED lights that will keep you awake at night.
I tested it in a dark closet. Twice.
I typed it instead of writing it by hand.
That means you’ll actually be able to read it.
It’s solar powered.
Not anymore. But it used to be a tree, and those require sunlight to grow. That counts.
You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
Don’t judge it by the terrible art on the front. Judge it by the terrible art inside.
The apocalypse is getting closer every day.
If you think things are getting better in the world, you must live in a different world.
It won’t disappoint you.
Seriously, if you made it this far down the list, your expectations are already low.
If those reasons sound convincing to you, buy Only Dead on the Inside: A Parent’s Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse. And if they don’t sound convincing, I’ll come up with fifty more. You brought this on yourself.