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?

 

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com

Rose & Ghun-Simply Murder-Episode Two: Is that Opportunity Knocking or is My Brain Rattling

gettyimages © Original Photo by Paul LoveKing
gettyimages © Original Photo by Paul LoveKing

“Whur uu srrrrs?”

“Try it again,” the woman said. “Without the towel over your face.”

“I asked, were you serious.” I put the towel and ice back on my face. The left eye and left side of my lip were like golf balls.

“Yes,” she said.

I moved the towel slightly. “I don’t do contract killings, or killings at all for that matter. Spiders rule my apartment. I think mice use a closet for a time share in the winter.”

“I really just need you to find him, and I’ll do the rest.”

I put the towel ice pack on my desk. “Accessory is the same as doing it myself. Can’t help you. But thanks for getting me back here.” I stood to escort her to the door. Or at least I tried.

“Listen to the situation first before you turn me down. Besides you can’t even stand up.” Well she was right there and I had nothing else to do but suffer at home in bed. I might as well suffer here with a beautiful and somewhat exotic looking woman who wanted me to help kill someone.

“Go for it,” I said and kicked my feet up on the desk. Mistake. Don’t try to look nonchalant and tough when the woman you are trying to impress has seen you lying in the middle of the street like a ragdoll. She’s knows there is no tough in you.

“First, are you going to do what that woman said?” She asked.

“First, what’s your name?”

“Monika.”

“Monika…,” I prompted.

“Ghun,” she said.

“Almost like gun,” I smiled, winced, and almost blessed out the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, but I held back. I couldn’t afford a nickel for the swear jar.

“I know Mr. Rose. I get the joke, guns and roses.”

“Was afraid younger people might not get it,” I said. I couldn’t tell her exact age. He dark skin was toned and her slightly almond shaped eyes had no wrinkles. Chinese and African American. I wonder why we always think African American, why not just African, or Black? Focus, Trevor. She wants to kill someone and you are working what exotic blend she is. Think about that later.

“We do. Now for your answer.”

I looked at her a few seconds wondering why I was going to trust her. Then I realized I was trusting her and there was no reason to be hesitating. Maybe I was just being a guy who didn’t care as long as they face was pretty. “There is really nothing to be done. Cornelia and her men don’t exactly listen,” I said. “The fire that burned down the warehouse was arson, no doubt, but there isn’t anything linking her to it. They have the guy that did it, a homeless guy. He said a man gave him some money to do it. Since it was abandoned, he saw no harm in it.” I moved slowly to a better position.

“Then why the worry from the swinger?”

I smiled at the name. “She is just covering her bases.”

“And you are just going to let her get away with this?” She asked looking at my face.

“Private detectives have to walk a different line than other people. I know Cornelia and her motivations,” I said. “If she had wanted me dead or in the hospital, I would have been. This was more of a message sent around the city to everyone else.”

“Tell her to take out a sign next time.”

“Good idea.”

There was silence for several moments. She just watched me trying not to show pain while I watched her trying not to notice that she was not my normal client. I usually received men or women wanting proof of adultery or some other sleazy kind of case, and they usually had little money. Monika Ghun wasn’t one of them.

For one, no one would adultery on her. I thought about the Ten Commandments and what Jesus had said about one’s thoughts and realized that she probably had been the cause of plenty of it in her life. Pardon me while my mind wanders. Getting hit in the head a lot does that to me.

“So are you going to help me or not?” She asked.

“Tell me about it,” I said. I leaned back and closed my eyes. If I looked at her I might just fall into a trap.

“Ever heard of Miles Stratford?”

I was glad my face was covered or my reaction would have been a give-away of interest. “I take your sister was the one he hit that night.”

“Yes. He’s out on bail and he’s run.”

I sat back up properly. “Skipped bail?”

“And his family says they don’t know where he is.”

“Not likely. Tight family and he’s the heir to it all,” I said. Wheels were turning. I glanced at her and there was a slight smile. She knew she had me.

“So you’ll take it?”

“Not to kill him, but to bring him back.”

“I just want justice done,” she said.

I stared into her eyes and didn’t flinch. There was a lot of confusion there. Taking the case might have been the best idea I had for the night. She needed someone to watch out for her.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Good.”

“Start first thing in the morning,” I said.

The knock at my office door at that time of night made both of us jump. I found relief only in the fact that at least her reaction proved she was human. Then there was the look on her face.

“Who is it?”

“Mr. Rose?”

“Yeah,” I said, not moving.

“I’m Carl Stratford. I have a job for you.”

When I looked back at Monika she was gone. The only other way out of my office was the window and we were three stories up. And I didn’t have a fire escape. Maybe I had been wrong.

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

gettyimages © Original Photo by Paul LoveKing
gettyimages © Original Photo by Paul LoveKing

 

“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. 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 while Justin paused to glance at his partner.

“Get him!”

By the time Justin turned at Cornelia’s order I was on my feet and 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. These are the only days I know. 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.

“And I was coming to you for help.” I slowly 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?

 

2014 © Copyright-All rights reserved-RonovanWrites.wordpress.com