I’ve been feeling a little fickle lately with my writing…unable to decide which type of writing I enjoy the most. I’ve completed a funny middle grade novel, a serious picture book about a Robin bird and an ostrich (go ahead, you can say it), a zany early reader mystery and have recently found myself completely entrenched in writing a YA about an angry protagonist with an attitude problem.
To me, this problem is kind of like answering the question, “What’s your favorite food?” My answer is “steak.” But I say that only because it’s Monday—the day my non-red meat eating husband works late and I’m actually able to eat red meat in the house. If today were Tuesday, I’d say my favorite food is fish since my non-red meat eating husband would be home for dinner and I’d want to impress him. My favorite food seems to change daily (around my husband’s schedule).
And so does my favorite kind of writing (not around my husband’s schedule). Unless it’s Friday night, when he offers to watch our son so I can go out to dinner with a friend. And this past Friday night, Eve and I sat down to a lovely dinner to discuss my fickle writing problem.
After the first pomegranate martini (with smoke billowing from the top, strangely enough) I told Eve my NEW idea: creative non-fiction!
“Wow, that’s…interesting,” Eve said with a big, lovely smile. “Waitress, another martini!”
I told her all about my idea and justified all the research it would take and created a timeline for getting the project done and determined my target audience. I was committed!
Now, after the SECOND smoke billowing pomegranate martini I changed the project a little bit. “Wait! Instead of non-fiction, what if I make it a fantasy about an orphaned boy who goes to a school for wizards and he and his little English friends share a pair of pants that magically fits all of them!”
“Wow, that’s…interesting,” Eve said with a big, lovely smile. “Waitress, another martini!”
Honestly, I get a little frustrated with my schizophrenic writer’s mind, but then I remind myself that ribeyes are really only tasty on Mondays.
Tomorrow it’s salmon and writing edgy science fiction historical picture books. Tuesday, here I come!
--Robin
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4 comments:
I'm so glad to hear I'm not the only one who can't decide what to write! At least I'm in good company.
So that's why I wasn't invited to Girls-Night-Out...other than the the fact that I'm so masculine. You, Robin, are turning into me and you didn't want me to know it. No longer can you say, "No new ideas till you finish what you're working on." Ha! I'm rubbing off on ya.
...sorry...
- Jay
Why is it that all our stories lately seem to revolve around me...drinking all the time?? Which is funny because I only seem to drink when I'm with you two. Which, now that I think about it, is ALL the time. M'kay.
My partying problem aside, Robin...I love your passion for trying new things (smoking pomegranate martini, anyone?). That's what makes your writing so unique. You aren't stuck with one thing. And you have the rare ability to capture many voices and genres so convincingly! I want to be you in my next life.
You're the wind beneath my wings, man. You're the light at the end of the tunnel. I love you, man. Whew! How many cocktails have I had today?
Eve
O.k., I've had no alcohol today (that I can remember) and I agree with Eve, Robin. Obviously, you have a talent for more than one genre and you enjoy writing different types of books. Go with it, embrace it and don't get stuck in a rut.
LAmy
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