Two years ago, I would have been hard pressed to write an urban fantasy short story that included faeries of all things. Back then, writing fantasy was the furthest thing from my mind, and faeries were something only to be seen in Disney movies.
I was weaned on cyberpunk. Much of my writing is Gibson-inspired, as an editor kindly told me nearly three years ago, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. But lately, I've been moving away from writing straight post-cyberpunk stories and started incorporating fantasy elements. See "Bijou LaVoix and the Coal Dust Faery" and "Cornrows and Dill Pickles," to be published next month, also by Expanded Horizons.
I used to think that I could never write fantasy. My excuses were it has too many moving parts; it's too epic for my writing style; the scope is too large for me. But then I wrote "Bijou LaVoix and the Coal Dust Faery," and I said to myself, "I can do this. I can write fantasy on my own terms."
I'm not ready to create my own Middle Earth yet, and I'm not sure I even want to go that fantasy route. But I like writing urban fantasy. It suits my writing style. It challenges my creativity. It allows me to be unique with speculative fiction in ways I have yet to see out there.
Best of all, it allows me to diversify my writing. And there's nothing wrong with that. Right?