For the past year or so I’ve been telling myself “I’ve not found my genre”. I’ve dabbled at crime, paranormal, psychological, and whatever the hell this newest attempt at writing is. None of which get past a chapter or two. 3,000 words is usually the max, although “Murder at Meadowview” did reach 45,000 (ish). Still, it’s not a full-length novel. Then I read FSOG. And tried romance. And since then I’ve written three full length romance novels. Contemporary, erotic, provocative, whatever the sub-genre is, they are all romance. SEVEN DIRTY WORDS was the first to be published, and its sequel, FOUR LETTER WORDS, is currently under submission. Does this make me a romance author? Possibly… But no! I didn’t want to fall into that category! Romance authors are slushy, and frothy, and cheesy aren’t they? Think “romance” and you think flowers and hearts. I am not a flowers and hearts kind of girl! Okay, so let’s say it was an experiment and “I’ve not found my genre”.
Today’s mission is to complete my entry for the Yeovil Prize. I need 15,000 words. And I am not writing a romance story for it. I want something hard hitting, gritty, raw!! Dystopian. Let’s try that. Ooh chapter five! I’m getting there… Aww nah… It’s (insert expletive). Okay, how about a psychological thriller? Chapter one… Hang on – that’s a sex scene! Okay, so it can be psychological thriller with sex in it. And murder! Yeah, we love a bit of murder! Chapter two… (insert expletive). Paranormal. I’ve got one somewhere – its on chapter two already. And I’m coming up with blanks. (Insert expletive??) Fine. Let’s have another look at “A Siren’s Call”. What the hell is that?! Yeah you get the picture.
On my pendrive, which now needs replacing its been bashed about so much, there are several beginnings, and I’ve decided to mish-mash three of them together. Let’s see what happens – oh look. It’s a romance.
“You’re a romance writer – suck it up,” screams my brain.
So I guess I have found my genre after all.