I'm currently working on yet another cross genre project. My first book, The Dead Shall Inherit The Earth, was a nasty outer space zombie thriller. My 2nd book, The Blackest Heart, and its sequel, Pandora, are dark futuristic westerns. My 5th book, Good Night My Sweet, is an end of the world love story. And that brings me to my current project, Open Casket, which started as a straight ahead superhero story in the vein of Watchmen, and has since morphed into a wonderfully weird THE DARK KNIGHT meets FACE/OFF meets HELLRAISER, which, again certainly qualifies as yet another cross genre concoction. I guess I should have known from the get-go with a title that was much more Halloween than Avengers.
Not sure why my brain swirls different shit together, even when there's no plan to do it. I wouldn't have it any other way, but it makes me wonder how other writer's brains work. I know that some writers need to be very disciplined about their work, closely following outlines and set notes, etc. I, on the other hand, don't follow an outline. I usually just work from a list of chapters, but on this project, I'm just writing it free flow, based on a idea that sprang up in my mind from the legendary relationship between Batman & The Joker. I touched on that type of hero/villain vibe in The Blackest Heart, but something in my mind wanted to explore not only heroes and villains, but the real skin they live in. What really makes a man a hero or a villain, and the thin line that sometimes separates them. And sometimes, like Robin Hood, what can make a man both.
But my mind just won't let me tell a straight A to B to C comic book yarn. And I guess my horror roots are never far from the surface, and once I brought hell into the story, well, things got shades and shades and shades darker than originally planned.
And suddenly I'm writing a book I might have a shit storm worth of trouble finding a publisher for, but just like The Butcher Bride, my imagination has been set free, I'm having a blast, and I'm just gonna go along for the ride. But I still wonder - how many other writers just write a novel from the rare thin air of their imaginations? How many just let the story flow onto the page, whirling whatever pieces seem to fit?
Maybe the world is full of people with this talent. Many may not know they even have it.
I just know I do, and whether its a straight horror thang, or a mixed up horror/action/hip hop children fable, it's a unique gift.
And it's all mine.