I really have no idea about the state of the fiction market at the moment. I don’t know what people want to read these days. It would be so easy to sit here at my desk, indulge in a power ballad compilation CD and bang out some kind of tweenage romance story, but it just isn’t happening. Who wants to read a story by an independent writer with no experience in full-length material.
While I don’t know what is in store for me if I sit this through and get this story finished, I do finally have an understanding of my own writing style. I tried to write serious horror before, but I just couldn’t sit through it, I wasn’t enjoying it at all. If I’m ever to write anything like The Canticle again, it’s going to be delivered in camp and over-the-top packaging.
I realise that black-comedy is the only way to go about it. I love how a serious scenario can be delivered in a comical manner, yet not comical enough to turn a story about murder and torture into an Eddie Murphy gigglefest.
The new ‘project’ is going to be a black-comedy set in the mid-80s. It’s going to be like a bad exploitation/action film. Ridiculous, tounge-in-cheek and with just enough actual story line to keep a reader interested. I’ve got everything planned out, we’ll call that pre-production, and all that has to be done is actually putting pen to paper. I’ve never planned out a full-length before, so I’m pretty excited.
I’ll say nothing more until I’ve actually finished a first draft.