It doesn't work that way. You have to write the right story for you. The one that burns in your head. The one that wakes you up in the middle of the night. The one you want to read.
When it's finished...then you can worry. About if your mother will share it with her church group before she notices all those f-bombs. Or if your kid's friends will read that sex scene you threw in. Or if your husband recognizes he and the villain share a few (minor) annoying traits.
But not now.
Now it's just for me.
Note: This has been a post for the Insecure Writer's Support Group hosted by Alex J. Cavanaugh. We post the first Wednesday of every month. Join us. Let's be insecure together.