Writing Tip: Should you try to write in a genre style?

What genre do you write in? When you sit down to start your novel, what is it going to be able as far as what area of the book store or category on Amazon will it show up?

genresI could make this a long article, but I won’t. An author friend of mine and I were talking about a Romance I wrote, or two actually and that I wrote them having never read a Romance. The stories were really Love novels to me, but as for genre they would likely be called Romance.

I set out to write a Romance as a challenge to do something outside of my comfort zone and have discovered I love the basic ideas of the genre, but I had no idea what elements went into a Romance. I simply wrote the novels.

You see what you do is sit down and write your story. Pour everything into it, and then when you finish . . . find out what your genre is. The book will fall into some genre. Just tell your story from your heart. You can tell a science fiction robot story from the heart because you are putting all you have into a piece of your work. If you’re not doing that then I’m not sure why you are writing. I can’t write a novel, a poem, or short story without putting feeling it. I can’t even write this tip article without feeling emotions. If I don’t feel the pain of a character or have to walk away at times because of a decision I had to make in the book, then I shouldn’t be writing that story. (No characters were harmed in the creation of this article.)

Well those are my opinions. My opinions don’t mean there aren’t other ways to do it. Obviously people are doing it other ways and beings successful.

But for me and my tip today;

Don’t worry about your genre, just tell your story.

Get that genre thing out of your mind. It holds you back and is like some type of choke collar that keeps you from being creative because you think that something doesn’t fit right. No two books are alike, and no book is perfectly situated in one genre. A science fiction book, as an example has love, adventure, thriller and more in it, but it’s called science fiction because of the setting. So get out of the way of your words and write.

 

Much Respect

Ronovan

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Rose & Ghun Episode One: You want me to do what?

rose&ghun header

“Ow,” I mumbled.

“Does that hurt, pretty baby?” I stared up out of one eye at the woman above me. Perfect lipstick and hair, nails still shimmering in the light of night, and brandishing a tire iron she had just used on my ribs.

“Only a little, Cornelia,” I managed. “I guess you aren’t what you used to be.”

“Errrngh!”

I’m not very smart…sometimes. That’s the idea that flowed through my head as my body rolled along behind it. The pavement was cold on my face. I smiled and my lip stung from the cracks in it. “Broke a heel,” I said. “Should have stuck with the iron.”

She stalked toward me. It’s amazing how beautiful people can look so hideous when evil twisted them from the inside. As for me on the asphalt . . . if it had just been Cornelia things would have been fine, but she never traveled alone. Part of her posse, gang, whatever gorgeous women criminal types called their hired thugs was present.

“Not gonna move, purdy boy,” said Larry.

“That’s ‘pretty baby’,” I said.

“Yeah, pretty baby, Larry,” said Justin.

Good, I got the names right. Big sacks of meat all looked the same through a swollen eye…in the night…in the street…on your face, points for me. Now what? Only one thing I could do.

“unnnnhhh,” was all Larry managed as my heel connected with his inseam. I rolled like a log along the street whRose1ile Justin paused to glance at his partner. Can’t run, then roll.

“Get him!”

By the time Justin turned at Cornelia’s order I had made it to my feet and was running…hobbling or maybe it was skipping. The only concern I had was that I was fast enough. Gary’s was not far and if I could make it there, then I might have a chance.

“Ain’t happenin’,” said Justin. I could hear boots pounding the street. Why do big men move faster these days? Why am I saying ‘these days’? I’m not even middle aged. But with the life I led maybe I was middle aged.

I could see Gary’s Grill’s sign lit up not even a block away. But sucking wind and dancing ribs were not going to allow me to get there. My feet kept running into the air as my head and shoulders came to a sudden stop.

“Aw, pretty baby got caught,” said Cornelia.

Justin held me in his arms like a constrictor, not that he needed to. I was spent. Cornelia walked slowly up and smiled. She had brought the tire iron. “I warned you not to take the case, now didn’t I?”

I couldn’t answer and wouldn’t have even if I could have taken a breath.

“That building fire was an accident. That’s what the insurance company is going to find out, and you are not going to disagree, are you, pretty baby?”

“wwww”

Cornelia glanced over my shoulder and nodded. The arms loosened slightly. At least I could breathe again.

“Now what did you want to tell me?”

“Why do you call me pretty baby?”

The slap jerked my head sideways and my neck popped. Why do women take these crazy classes where they exercise by fighting? That was a pro shot. Rib pain, the constrictor had returned.

Fingers pulled my hair and my face lifted to hers. “Drop the case or else,” she said. She leaned in close to my ear. I felt her breath and could smell her perfume. “Drop the case, Trevor. I don’t want this to get worse,” she ended in a whisper.

She stepped back and nodded at Justin. I was slammed to the pavement and couldn’t move. I saw them walk away. It wasn’t a bad sight. Justin leaving was a good thing, and even in the condition I was in…well…Cornelia was Cornelia, evil or not.

“And I was coming to you for help.” I slGhunowly rolled over onto my back and looked up into the face of another woman.

“What can I do for you?” I groaned.

“Not die for starters.”

“Working on it. What else?”

“Need you to help me kill the man that killed my sister.”

How do things get this bad this fast?

 

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