I’m currently in a phase of overthinking my writing and it has rendered me emotionally blind through being over-analytical about every word and idea I pull from my head. The whole thing is driving me doolally.
Although crime/psychological thriller and contemporary women’s fiction are my go-to genres, I’ve been reading a lot of articles about the current squeeze, up-lit – uplifting literature. Think along the lines of ‘Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman. With all the political and social upheaval currently in the world, readers are seeking escapism through up-lit novels about kindness and empathy.
I thought I’d try to write one and see where it takes me. I came up with a quirky title (no, I’m not telling you yet), a diverse cast of characters, likeable but with flaws, and a goal for those within the story to strive for. So far, so good. Only, 16,000 words in and I’m searching for the darkness, the mental health issues, the knife twisting in someone’s back, and it’s not long before I feel myself being dragged towards a psychological thriller.
I know that old adage banded around ‘write what you know’, but I’ve never stabbed someone (unless giving an injection) or poisoned someone (well, sorry about those prawns…) and yet I can research the topic to then write about. I love researching even though that can be dreadfully distracting.
So, I’ve put the up-lit novel on the back burner and am now planning a psychological thriller, and I already feel at home.
I’m not giving up on the up-lit WIP, but perhaps I need the summer weather to lift me out of the murky swamp winter finds me in.
Happy Word Flow One & All