You are a creative typist as opposed to a writer because you use the same situations, the same stories, the same bullshit, over and over. So, get it: the first Judith Krantz book might elicit an emotional response from a novice reader, but upon reading successive books, it becomes quite clear that her talents are VERY limited. Self-plagiarization taken to extremes, formulaic twaddle, and the boldness to make the story incredibly outlandish and convoluted.
So yeah, you may have a hook, but you're a hack. The Brian De Palma of con artists.
(and since you know how much cinema means to me, you know that's a fuckin' insult)
I know you write for you. I'm sure you get off on every person that responds "oh, your story touched my heart and made me cry."
Next time you're in "mixed company," why don't you try this one out: "I'm a sad, fat, twisted old lady with limited talents and an unhealthy obsession with child molestation, who spends her time in internet chatrooms pretending I'm a woman and/or man with a dead son and/or boyfriend." Let's see who laughs at that, especially if Barbara, David, Bill, Marie, Jan, Jenny, Jessica and Dan are in the room.