This round of Nanowrimo is driving home the point that I have a genre, no matter how hard I try to stay outside of the box. Maybe it is time to accept the existence of the box, and then maybe I can work with it. All of my characters (main characters) are women. All of the books that I LOVE have women protagonists: National Velvet, The Secret Garden, The Secret Life of Bees, everything by Tamora Pierce, most things by Mercedes Lackey, The Death of Bees, Sweetwater Creek, most things by Louise Erdrich. Most of the authors I admire are women. The musicians I like to listen to are women (Paramore!).
See what I mean?
I can’t decide if this is something I should struggle with.
The story I am currently working on for Nanowrimo is definitely along the same lines, and while I am loving it I am not sure it is a project I would take much past the drawing board. It is like a mix between Anne of Green Gables and The Girl of the Limberlost. I hate to look at a project I am working on and only ask is this publishable? How cynical. But even if this story turns out to be a best seller, I am not sure that it is a genre I want to be in. I am all for writing within women’s literature, but children’s literature?
But it is a little early for all of that. Just because it is not the book I someday imagine writing, doesn’t mean it is without value. Anyway these are the thoughts that whirl around before I go to sleep.
P.s. I dreamt about bears again last night.