Petals in my hand …

My Writing Never Fit Into a Specific Genre (because I never did … )

You’ve all heard it before: There’s only a few seconds left. This is your moment. To shine. To shoot your “elevator pitch” about your next big story. Time’s almost run out. What do you say? What’s your brand?

The only problem (well, at least for me) is how could I ever possibly hope to explain anything I write (have ever written, will have ever written), in only a matter of seconds, when I’ve never fit into a certain genre or category myself?

Long story short, I’m an outlier. A misfit. I’ve never fit in, never could be neatly wrapped up into a precise, predictable — and marketable — package. So then, why should I have to apologize for that? Why must my voice tremble … falter … in a blind hope that it might resonate with your own?

I grew up bi-racial. I grew up poor. I grew up a woman. I grew up ashamed. I grew up with a mentally-ill parent. I grew up fast.

I grew up alone.

And yet, here I am … wondering … what’s my elevator pitch?

What could I possibly hope to say that might make you want to read more? Want to connect with me?

Hear me?

What could I possibly hope to do …

but be me.

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