When I was younger and barely writing but knew I wanted to tell stories and tell them in print, over and over I’d be told (by non-writers):
“You should write a book like [insert name of any current author who was actually seeing book sales] and then you’d be published and make money and get rich!”
No matter how I responded, which was usually with a brief answer meant not to show how offensive that suggestion is, here was my mental response:
If I were going to imitate another person’s book and basically rob their life experience and creative expression and research and brain and heart and soul, I’d prefer to write like a literary giant.
It’s not possible for me to be any other writer. My stories come full-blown from my imagination as it plunders only my own life experience and creative expression and research and brain and heart and soul and applies all that to fictional characters and situations.
Sometimes my writing will get it wrong, and I’ll own that, too. Even when I find and believe bad info on the Internet while researching. I should have found a librarian.