In the case of this book the closest category I can fit it into is dystopian fiction, in that it takes place 25 years into a not particularly pleasant future. However it is also, and mainly, a human drama that could take place just as easily in the 18th century as the twenty-first. But I found it more interesting to write about a world that is not very different from ours, just worse, because the ugly condition of the world reflects the actions of the characters. If I had to briefly describe what the story is “about” I would say it’s about a man who is full of self-loathing, and who hurts the people who love him because it is the only way to affirm his own importance in their lives. In other words, it’s not a barrel of laughs, nor is it an exciting shoot ’em up.
My biggest worry is that anyone who read the words “dystopian fiction” will expect either science fiction, or an action-filled novel about some hero who has to fight against insurmountable odds to save the world. As enjoyable as such stories are, that wasn’t what I was interested in writing. My story takes a look at some everyday people who are struggling to get by in an increasingly inhuman world, and who find that day by day they are losing a little bit of their own humanity. Call me crazy but I still think there’s some room for some serious stories to be told, whatever the genre I write in.
Will anybody read it? It’s all in the marketing I guess.