As a card-carrying Gemini, I've teased genres from humor to ghost writing (literal ghosts) to kidlit and romance. I love exploiting my ADD to suit my mood but when I tried to get "serious" about writing a novel, I fell flat. I did what was expected-loaded up the iPod, stored enough chocolate away to give a diabetic a fit, muttered to myself about POV and donned the Cone of Silence earphones-and ran out of steam after 20k words. I had outlines, flowcharts, character sketches, I thought I was ready for the big time so what happened?
I wasn't having any fun.
I forgot my roots. When I started writing years ago, my strength was the short essay. I had dreams of being the next Erma Bombeck or Dave Barry with a great set of boobs and writing humor columns that would make people do a spit take over their morning newspaper. Sure, ghosts were spooky, romance paid some bills, and freelance placated my ADD for a time but it wasn't until I faced that what I wanted to do was go back to shorties full-time that I had my "ah-haaaaa" moment. Zombies fulfilled those nibbles of work that I had so much fun with and with luck we'll ride the Undead wave to publication.
Great American novel? It could still happen. But it's more likely I'll Erma it and do a collection of essays instead.
Which brings me to my question. Have you found your niche?