For decades, I scrambled madly to categorize my work. I’ve been labeled “suspense,” for the most part. Some have claimed I write “dark romance.” Or “mystery.” I’ve even been miscategorized as “chick lit” for reasons I’ll never comprehend. None of these labels ever felt right to me, though, even if I couldn’t come up with a better solution to the issue of genre as it relates to my work. It always felt like I was attempting to ram square pegs into round holes.

Then, a literary contemporary of mine read and reviewed Lockhardt Sound (and the next three in the saga). An avid reader with an advanced degree in literature. He made an observation that stunned me, and settled the issue once and for all.

Genre fiction is very specific. Take romance. Textbook romance books require an “HEA” – or, “happily ever after.” Suspense has a fairly straightforward formula as well: there’s a crime, there’s an investigation, and there’s a resolution. Even family sagas – they’re typically associated with generations and a “reversal of fortune” and are most often created as “period pieces.” See what I mean? Fans rely
on being able to pick up a suspense novel, be intrigued and thrilled, and then ultimately, satisfied. Samewith romance readers. Same with all genre readers. They want what they love, and they’ve found what that is. Don’t believe me? Argue the point with a romance reader.

Okay, so … fine. My saga has suspense. And romance. And mystery. Arguably a touch of thriller (notquite “horror”). Even a bit of historical fiction. And certainly “family saga” elements. But the MiM saga doesn’t meet the requirements, strictly speaking, of any one of these. The story isn’t resolved in a book, or two, or three. There’s far more tragedy and almost no happy ending (I guess that may have been a
spoiler). My characters are flawed, and make a lot of bad decisions that haunt them for decades. If they change, the change is slow and born in regret. Generations of them, by the way, but no “reversal offortune” that qualifies it for “family saga,” per se. The saga’s mysteries are solved in stages, then grow more complex. I’ve had three professional editors who couldn’t help me peg my work. It’s been
frustrating.

So my colleague finally came forward. “I’d argue with anyone that your stuff is upmarket fiction.” Ooo! A new term I’d never heard of! And when I researched what it was, I felt like Atlas finally getting the world removed from his shoulders.

Character-driven. A marriage of sorts between commercial and literary fiction. Well-written, but with a commercial edge and appeal to it. Often longer in length. Eureka! I found … well, me! The bad news? The lion’s share of “upmarket fiction” novelists are signed with traditional publishers. Try marketing mainstream, upmarket fiction in an Indie playing field where genre fiction reigns supreme. It’s
hard enough to get readers to take a chance on an unknown Indie author. But one who doesn’t write “genre fiction?” Yikes!

For better or worse, I’ve found my home, genre speaking. I’m comfortable with not writing genre fiction. I envy the clear boundaries adhered to by genre writers, though, trust me. But I don’t really fit in their circles. I’m an apologist for “deep dives” into the human condition. Move me. Make me feel. I want a

book to utterly break me. To hold a mirror up to me so maybe I can work out my own junk. Give me well-written tomes about grappling with who we are when the lights go out and we lower our heads onto our pillows. A safe place for me to see myself for who I am, warts and all – and perhaps even prompt a positive change. That’s what I enjoy. And that’s what I write.

If you’re like me, and you enjoy stories about fractured, flawed people who struggle (and often fail) to do the right thing, who face all manner of life’s obstacles, I invite you to start the Music is Murder saga.
Oh – and don’t forget the Kleenex.