Rejoice a little in your current, unpublished status: you can write whatever you want, switch genres, do rhymed poetry, write the Great American coffee table book, anything whatsomewhoso. Make up your own words, even. Once you publish something and it sells, your agent and publisher will be after you for “More-of-the-same.” Their blandishments will be hard to resist. End of freedom.
I once wrote a story based on Moses and the Twenty Commandments. (Yes, it’s a heretical notion.) [He broke the tablets in a pit of fique (or was it a realous jage?) Anyway, he later ordered Release 2 Lite, consisting of just the first ten, figuring twenty was way too much of a stretch for the Hebrew children.]
Commandment Eleven was “Thou shalt create.” I forget the rest. Maybe the shards will be found, someday.