I once wrote that I had an interest in writing schlock to submit to schlock publishers whose customers enjoy immersing themselves in in schlock novels. I wonder if my “cauldron” post fits the bill and puts me on the right path? Reading it again after an hour, I think it just might. But, reading it again after giving it time to digest, I think perhaps that’s not what I want to write, after all. Insatiable lust and the ennui it generates is too self-centered to make good fiction, I think. And schlock is, well, schlock.
Yesterday, during a presentation on writing historical fiction, someone in the audience mentioned his tendency to get just so far in writing a piece, only to abandon it and start something else. I wasn’t referring to the “cauldron” piece, but it may demonstrate the reason for the repeated abandonment.
