starting a serial novel

Sarah and I both felt sick when we woke up this morning. We took tons of Advil, and then I made coffee--a Venezuelan espresso blend--and we drank several cups until our headaches went away. "I think I'm getting sick," Sarah said. I hope not, for both our sake's. She works six days a week and can't afford a day off, and this is my last week of classes which means I'll be working overtime on term papers and projects. She's left for the day, visiting her mom in Wilmington, then maybe seeing a movie with her high school friend Moose; and I've spent the day rearranging my room, boxing stuff up, organizing my clothes. I have some clothes that are WAY too small, and others that are WAY too big. It shows the radical changes I've gone through in the past six years: up then down, up then down, up then down (in terms of weight). I'm hoping this plunge downwards will remain that way.

I have started working on a serial novel I've been thinking about writing for about a year now. It's called "The Procyon Strain," a series of 12 books following a handful of characters through a zombie apocalypse. The ending should be pretty cool, as should all of the other books. I've gotten about fifteen pages done, and I am taking countless notes on the story's development. Each novella--around 150 pages, meaning roughly that the serial novel will be around 1800 pages--is different than the other in significant ways, though all tie together and follow the same person and the people around him. The first book is called "The Procyon Strain: A Dream For Us."