An entirely new kind of block

Just for a change I haven't got writer's block. My problem, this time, is what to write.

   I've published three books in the last few months and plan to publish one more within the next week or so. These aren't books I've just knocked off in a couple of months, but works I began over a decade ago. I've edited them all to within an inch of their lives. To the point where few of them vaguely resemble that which I originally began.

   All those years I was sending rafts of letters, queries and in one pathetic example a plea to agents and publishers. One agent demanded the entire manuscript of Hoodies One then promptly forgot about it for six months before sending it back obliterated by coffee stains and no letter.

   I once wrote a novel which apparently resembled 1984 by Orwell.  Even though I've never read anything by him, it was deemed impossible to publish without claims of plagiarism. I've also been accused by a few people of writing in a similar style to Terry Pratchett - that would be nice. Thus I've never read anything of his for the same reason.

   I have another 3 Three Hoodies novels, and another 3 Old Geezers' already finished and ready for editing. It would be a pity to waste all that effort. So I'm going to publish them, anyway.

   So what I've been forced to ask myself is this: Are my books written in a genre and style that nobody likes? Or are they just rubbish? With the exception of my good friend Donna Yates, nobody has ever given any of my books a review so I don't know which is true.

   The question as to whether I'll stop writing has never occurred to me. I can never stop. But is it, perhaps, time to write something that people actually like instead of trying to make people like what I write?

   The reading public don't owe me anything. So it's up to me to make them want to read what I write.