Someone told me the other night that I should write a story in a genre rather than mainstream literary. I’m considering it.
I’ve always liked Hopalong Cassidy, though Cisco Kid was probably my fav; but I’ve also always wanted to be an Indian, and not a squaw–a brave.
Then again, my first writings back in high school were all of the horror genre. Loved the Alfred Hitchcock and Twilight Zone type of scary. Oddly enough, the novel I wrote six years ago was romance–something I never read and was horrified recently to find two Danielle Steel paperbacks in among my books. One was from my father-in-law who thought I’d like it, and the other I bought after I wrote the novel and while waiting for rejection slips, picked up a DS just to see what made her so successful. I never found out.
So maybe something new is in the works just to stretch the mind.