I write contemporary fiction. It may be literary or funny or dark, but it’s still contemp. I do, however, read other genres, and for some reason it’s always surprises me when I love a fantasy or historical or anything other than contemp. It shouldn’t because it happens a lot. I guess a part of me feels that because I hate writing books about unicorns, I won’t enjoy reading them either.
I should expand here. I hate writing about flying horses, or talking hats, or serial killers or spies not because I think the topics are dumb but because I can’t. I just really don’t know how. I tried when I was younger–you know, when teachers made you write “creatively” for the writing assignment du jour–and the result would read something like this:
Janie walked up to the river and stared in amazement. She rubbed her eyes and blinked. Nope it was still there. Not a mirage at all. The water was brown. A chocolate brown. She knelt down and smelled it. Yep, it smelled sweet and delicious. And, what was that surrounding the river? Could it be a ring of creamsicles? She thought of her teacher’s words, “You just have to imagine.” And she did and it worked! But why did she imagine THESE things? After all, she was lactose intolerant! She couldn’t eat any of it! Then it hit her. Or he did. It was the evil nymph. She should have known.
Exactly. This is why I don’t write fantasy. Sure, these days, fantasy can be sparkling vampires or spells in a contemp world, but I think my brain just blocks anything where you have to make up too much. Not that the books I write are facts, but it’s easier for me to make up people who have been through hell than people who on top of being put through hell are magical too or part of some conspiracy. But, recently, I wanted to try. Wanted to get outside my comfort zone, stretch my brain. Maybe describing something I’ve never seen in reality could help me explore setting further or creating a character who possesses little of the ones I’m used to writing about could help with character analyses. I could even combine a slew of genres, like making up a story about a girl with a pet unicorn, living in 1692 Masachusetts during the Salem Witch Trials, who is being chased by a robot from the year 3000. The possibilities are endless.
I hate to do things on my own, though. Anyone care to try with me and write in whatever genre is outside YOUR comfort zone? I’ll even post your results, if you want. And, um, maybe I’ll post mine too if they don’t reek too much, or even if they do, why not? Embarrassment is good for the soul, or something like that. Let’s meet back here on Monday and share our progress. Be ready to post or you can send to me ahead of time and I’ll post for you. It’s on!
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