This is reminding me of a short story I read - maybe by Neil Gaiman?
It was about a discontent writer who lives in an over the top, gothic world. He keeps trying to write literature, but in his world 'literature' is all about the haunted houses and melodramatic deaths and sword fights. Only the poor writer is unsatisfied by writing about these day to day dramas. He yearns to write something
different, something a little strange.
He ends up finding happiness by writing about a depressed suburban housewife.
So, moral of the story - write what you want, dude. They're your words, use them as you will - even if those words take you to strange, uncharted territories.