For a long time, I was loathe to admit what sort of fiction I was writing. I did not want a lot of people to know that my stories were mostly romantic ones. As I said in my second blog post, not all of these stories had a happy ending, but most did. Yet I felt like most of my creations were shameful fluff and so long as I continued writing about “silly, unnecessary things” such as relationships, I would surely never be taken seriously as a writer. I was, of course, thinking about all of the scathing critiques I had read of anything that falls beneath or close to the romance umbrella, and was fearful of being cast as someone who cannot tell an original, realistic story, someone who will be forever looked down upon by the “literati”. This fear exists among writers of other genres too such as sci-fi and fantasy, also often maligned as nothing more than smelly, literary cheese–despite legions of adoring fans.
Though a bit of my reluctance remains, I am proud to say I have mostly gotten over my hang up. I am not certain that all of my work neatly falls into the category of romance and some of it feels closer to historical fiction, but whatever my writing may be, I have made peace with it. I am what I am, and I write what I write. And I am sure that when I publish my work, someone, somewhere will enjoy it as much as I do.
Are you a secret genre writer? Drop me a comment below!