As writers we read and write in certain genres. We generally have our favorites, and some of us detest others. Strong wording, I know. And perhaps a bit unfair. Okay. Well, it’s true for me anyway. That better? When saying I detest a specific genre, I’m not saying I detest those who write within it or those who publish it or even those who read it. What I’m saying is it’s so not for me, and it would be a torture equivalent to going back to school for me to have to read a novel in that particular market niche.
But I must remember there are those readers (and writers) who love the genres that I don’t. And this can be frustrating for those of us who don’t see what we like offered as frequently as those we prefer. However, I have no shortage of novels to read right now. In fact I’m swamped. Again. Backed up. A summer full of reading ahead. Again.
So much for devoting time to my three novels in progress. All in good time.
All this to say what I’ve said many times before, possibly ad nauseum, different people read different kinds of novels. Some favor the commercial, the light and fluff. Others favor the dark and desperate, the dangerous. Others like the structured and formulaic, the simple. And still others enjoy the beauty of words woven into a story that takes them deep into characters. In the frustrations of creating words on a page to somehow meld into a meaningful story, one that surpasses expectations (my own) and manages to cut its way into the heart, leaving an imprint or an impact, I must remember the readers like what they like and the “job” is to find those who like what I like.
So much for that . . .
Father, lead me in your ways. Help me to stay focused on what you have for me to do and to eliminate all else. Thank you for your loving kindness, your instruction, and your faithfulness in spite of me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.