I’m writing. I don’t just mean I’m blogging again (which, obviously, I am) but I’m working on the latest of several novels I’ve started and not finished or finished and not been happy with, This one was actually just supposed to be a short story. I had a dream, remembered it, and thought, “Wow! that would be a good short story!”
Then I started writing it. And it decided it didn’t want to be a short story, it wanted to be a novel. Then today I was reading a fantasy novel (I always read novels from other genres when I’m writing) and in this novel I’ve read about three or four times before this a couple of sentences kept tugging at me.
I mean, a lot of teenage guys fail in their first relationships. Not many of them murder the girl involved. ~ Storm Front, by Jim Butcher
Damn. I was writing New Adult (early twenties) Erotica. I thought. Now I am feeling the need to kill someone off. In the middle of a sex scene. Then the rest of the book will be about the remaining two people (did I mention it was a threesome?) have to figure out what to do, and how their relationship develops from there. I don’t know that there’s even a genre for this.