Falling Between Genres

I was talking to an acquaintance the other day and he asked how my writing was going. I’m just getting used to talking about myself as a writer and the books that I’ve written. It’s really hard for me to do it still, but I’m getting a lot better. I’ve written three novels so far. That’s frickin’ amazing! Granted the first one was what I would consider a practice novel that no one is ever going to read, but I finished it so it does count. This acquaintance writes. He writes fantasy and he has a deal with a small publisher. Anyway, we were talking about reading and writing and how we write and such when I realized that everyone I know who writes fiction writes in a really clearly defined genre. They all write genre fiction–horror, scifi, fantasy, romance…

I can’t describe my fiction as any of that. The best I can do is literary, but that’s not really the case either. In my personal life I like not being able to be put into one clearly defined box. I’m black, but I’m a Mormon. I’m a Mormon, but I’m liberal. I’m health conscious, but I drink full fat milk. See, I’m just a pile of contradictions. That’s fine. I like myself like that, but maybe that doesn’t work too well when it comes to fiction. How do I market my book to people if I don’t know what genre it is? If my books don’t fit neatly into any one genre, where will I be able to find people who will enjoy reading them?

I think about this all the time now. I really have to figure out an answer soon.

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