I believe I’ve arrived at a point where I have to make a decision about writing.
     Take my Three Hoodies series. Now I love writing about juvenile humour, which probably illustrates my maturity, or lack thereof. I like my  Old Geezers series. Again, SF like Hoodies, with a little old-man humour and profanity thrown in. I Really enjoy writing about monsters and people’s encounters with them, or their sharp parts, anyway.
      My rather laborious point is that neither Hoodies nor Old Geezers sold very well. Enough to please me but not enough to get the Porsche – or even just the P, as it happens. So my question, (not so much to you who take the time to read my rambling posts, but really just to myself) is, should I continue writing for the fun of it and hopefully make some money at the same time; or, should I write what I think people really want to read?
       A bit of a no-brainer, really. Apart from romance, horror is the world’s best selling genre. I can’t see myself ever writing a romance. It’s just not in me. I included a couple of semi romantic scenes in Book of Pain but I really had to. I couldn’t let the poor lad go four hundred years without even a kiss.
      Of course I could just continue to write in the genres I like, but write them better. Yet even if I could, there’s just so many of us that I wonder if it would ever be discovered. I’ve networked myself to death. I’ve taken advantage of every free advertising site. And even though I now have a good job which will allow me to begin paying, I see no real evidence that forking out barrow loads of cash guarantees sales.
      I think I’ve really answered my own question. I’m retiring the Old Geezers unless I can get some sales, but the four novel Hoodies series, of which the last is one third finished, will be my last. I don’t want to write about vampires or zombies – there are plenty out there and written far better than I could, or would even want to try. I don’t have any desire to write about pre-pubescent wizards. And the final thing is: if I write in too many genres then I dilute any potential following I might amass, and I don't fancy doing it under a pen name. And finally, I know my artwork isn't good enough so if I do spend any money, it will be on a proper artist. Oh Joleene...?      So horror it is.
You’d have thought at my age I would have got the message.
     A long time ago in another life people shot at me or tried to blow me up. Other people have tried to do me in, in a number of ways but I’ve always managed to get away with it – clearly since I’m not writing this from beyond the grave.

    However, after fourty years of riding a motorbike I’ve nearly been killed so many times I can barely count. Smashing through someone’s windscreen face first on the motorway is not something I‘d ever like to repeat and heartily recommend others not to try. Sliding down the road at seventy miles an hour was not my happiest experience and hot engine oil pouring over me whilst trapped beneath a smashed bike didn’t do it for me either.

    So why do I keep doing it? Just four days ago I was on a major arterial road leaving London when someone decided to change lanes (illegally) without warning and slam into me, sending me hurtling down the road on my hip beneath the bike; and when we finally came to rest and I realised I wasn't dead, cringed in terror as I waited for the following truck to drive over my heard. Happily it swerved.

    And the reason I repaired my bike and still didn’t sell it? The underground/tube prices are so incredibly expensive in this city that I simply cannot afford to use it.

   I hear there’s a sale of ex military vehicles in Salisbury in a couple of months.
   I wonder how much a tank would cost.