Yesterday evening, after a trying day with things coming at me from all angles, I did my hair and put on some nice clothes and went out with a friend to Marissa Meyer's book signing for her debut, Cinder. Why was I excited for this? First of all, there's the title resemblance:
But more than that, Marissa is just plain sweet, and her book sounds really great. Cinderella as a cyborg. Yeah, awesome! During the signing, I ran into a girl I vaguely recognized, and was surprised to find out she was in a play with my husband a few years back. She has started writing, and the best thing of all? She writes literary fantasy that's kind of adult, kind of YA, and deals with fairy tales and legends. Um, sound familiar? Yes! I really haven't met anyone else in my immediate vicinity who writes in that vein. (If you read this blog and happen to write in that vein, please oh please email me!) Needless to say, we hit it off.
In all honesty, I've felt very alone in my writing journey when it comes to genre. I don't really fit anywhere, and nobody has seemed to write a real match to what I'm writing. I've wondered for a long time if this is important or if it's anything I should worry about. Has it ever mattered to you that you find writer friends who write similar work as yours? These writers may end up as your valuable beta readers, and it's always nice to talk with someone who really understands what you're doing, but I don't think it's absolutely necessary. It's nice, all the same. A bit comforting. For me, writing Cinders was a shot in the dark, but I've quickly found that as I've written the two companion novellas, I'm settling into a genre I adore more than any other I've ever written. I might have just found my niche.
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