Wednesday, September 24, 2014
Anyone who looks at my back list will realize that I love to experiment with new genres. Easily bored, I really don't want to write the same sort of book over and over again. Instead, I'll branch out and try my hand in a sub-genre that is different from anything I've produced previously.
Gay erotic romance? Sure, why not?
Science fiction? One of my first loves.
Historical? Tough to do well, but given how much historical fiction I read as a kid, how can I resist?
How about a vampire book? No problem, though don't expect my vampires to follow all the traditional rules.
Steam punk? A total blast!
Humor? I'll give it a try, though my siblings used to ridicule me when I tried to tell jokes.
I realize this is not the best way to build a brand. Indeed, I'm sure that my diversity - or lack of focus, to look at it from a negative perspective - is at least partly responsible for my lackluster sales figures. That's too bad, but I really can't force myself to stick to just one or two genres.
I realized recently, though, that there's a genre I've never attempted. And now that thought is niggling away at me, tickling my sense of perversity.
I've never tried to write sweet romance.
Could I? Could I really keep the bedroom door firmly shut and still generate that sense of being swept away by emotion?
Should I? Or do my fans only want the explicit heat for which I'm known?
Would it be a waste of my time? Or an intriguing experiment?
What do you think? I actually have a couple of characters I've been working on and a setting back in the golden age of Hollywood. I'd write the story for my beloved 92 year old aunt, who despite her own rather colorful life (three husbands) tells me she finds my books embarrassing.
Is it worth the effort? Should I take up the personal challenge? Do I dare?
Or is this a totally silly idea for someone whose tagline is "Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac"?