I have heard other writers discuss why they write the genres they write. Some of them have switched from one genre to another. Sometimes, it was because the writer was prolific and needed another outlet (boy, do I wish!) other times, writers told me they did it because they felt the new genre would sell better than the one they were in.
If I could write in another genre besides mystery, I would write Science Fiction. But although I love the genre, I can’t write it.
As an example, I just saw an episode of Wormhole where Morgan Freeman discussed various theories about life. Is the universe alive? Are we really alive? Is reality just something we make up in our head? It was mind boggling. Do I dream up my husband? Really? I don’t think my brain is quite that complex. And really if the scientist who dreamed that one up really believes it, how does he get up in the morning? He’s alone. He’s obviously nuts, because the world is a mixed up mess, and there is no one to blame for it but him because he made it all up, even the part where he was on TV and talking about his theory to millions. If I were him and that was what I believed I think I’d find a hole and crawl in it. But wait, I’d be making that up too.
I was pretty intriqued by the universe being a living organism until the scientist compared it to a city. Although Denver is fairly lively, we don’t really operate as one as a living organism does. One glance at the traffic on the highway in the morning will tell you that. The universe is alive like that? I don’t even want to go there.
But somewhere along the way, someone will take one of these theories and write a great book about it. I will read it, but I will stick to writing mysteries.