….and, from far away Newport, Rhode Island, U.S.A., messages from my uncle started appearing out of the blue yesterday afternoon. He does that. Unexpectedly, thoughts and advice disjointedly come flying my way.
I usually try to jump to and – if possible – answer him immediately. You may know he’s a HarperCollins published crime novelist. (His first book appeared in the early 1980s. And he, urr, also sorta resembles one of my characters.) We got involved in a back and forth about reading and my writing.
This starts the revealing bit: it opens with the end of my response to a reading suggestion he’d made:
Reading advice in order to learn to write better: I fully accept that. One of my points above that he eventually conceded, however, is I am not interesting in writing like anyone else; that they already do that. (Why choose perhaps an “impersonator” when you can read the original who’s probably lots better?) I aim to write in a manner that’s mine.
As for genre, he had also been after me for some time to write a “cozy” mystery.
However, I’ve resisted that suggestion. I suspect he’s figured out my disinterest by now. It’s not only because I just don’t want to, but more importantly I don’t think I’d do a very good job at writing one.
But the overall genre I’m comfortable with probably won’t change much: “Travel Romance Fiction: C’est Moi.” 🙂
Have a good Wednesday!