The Things That Hold Us Back

It's kind of ironic, or maybe poetic, that just the other day I was biting my tongue (not wanting to offend "my own" per se) about how much it bothers me when chick-lit writers make certain complaints...and now, today, I can successfully say I'm not really a chick-lit writer anymore.

The question is, was I ever?

Well, I don't know. It seems that more and more, chick-lit readers only want heroines that they can relate to...and that more and more, those heroines should be clean and kind.

The problem is, I don't write clean and kind heroines. In fact, if I write clean and kind characters at all, they are usually made a mockery of by my dirty, mean heroines.

So maybe the peeps at RDI were correct when upon cancellation of my contract for Book #2, they said I'm not aware of the audience I'm writing for...but it would be better said, I think, to say that maybe I am aware of it--but just don't want to write for it.

That's certainly not to say that I think there's anything wrong with women wanting to read fun stories about likeable girls that represent the kind of company they wouldn't mind keeping. It's just to say that it's my preference to keep company with the kinds of gritty bitches that you will always find between the pages of my books.

And maybe that leaves less room for me to write for the chick-lit market...but if it does, then maybe there's a lesson to be learned here.

A successful writer told me something very important once. She said: "Forget about what everybody else wants. Write a story that you would want to read."

I think I'll do that now.