Cosy SFF: A Comparison Of Definitions
In 2022, Travis Baldree’s Legends & Lattes launched the mainstream visibility of cosy fantasy. Discussions around what exactly this subgenre consists of have been around since at least 2018 and the term can be found in use in academic book reviews as early as 2014.
To my knowledge, most of these discussions happen almost in a vacuum with no reference back to other, similar discussions on what cosy fantasy is. In addition, these are always discussions on cosy fantasy, leaving cosy science fiction, which gained some traction in 2015 with the traditional publishing rerelease of Becky Chamber’s A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet, out in the cold or, more interestingly, getting lumped into cosy fantasy despite being clearly science fiction in the vein of Star Trek.
There, I said it. Star Trek is cosy science fiction and that’s been around since the 1960s. It is, of course, more complicated as the two fields do have and use different terminology. More accurately, the closest science fiction equivalent to ‘cosy fantasy’ seems to be ‘soft science fiction’. People with more knowledge of the evolution of science fiction as a genre will have to look into that particular overlap and the differences, but to me ‘cosy sff’ is a better and clearer umbrella term for these types of stories. An argument can be made that it should be ‘cosy sffh’ to include the cosy horror genre.
As it stands, however, they strike me as all sides of the same die, especially considering that the books in these subgenres are all appearing within the same decade or so, and right after several events with massive societal repercussions across the world and an apparent oversaturation of grimdark books.
That said, the side of the die that is cosy fantasy is not as new as people believe. Its popularity and visibility is new. Arguably some of the oldest books adhering to cosy fantasy ideals are Lord Dunsany’s The Charwoman’s Shadow (1926), Hope Mirrlees’ Lud-in-the-Mist (1926) and J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit (1937). That means the core concepts of cosy fantasy are almost a century old[1].
But, as discussions on cosy fantasy will tell you, no one actually agrees on what those core concepts are. In an essay expanding on the way we can find cosy’s core points in fantasy sitcoms of the 1960s, R. Nassor states
Your exact definition of what constitutes cozy fantasy might differ from another reader’s, but we can generally agree that books that earn the label tend to spark warm, “cozy” feelings with relatively low stakes, spinning feel-good stories that center community building or maintenance (so family, found family, and/or friendship). (Nassor)
Nassor starts the actual definition using the most nebulous concept of “feelings”, which has gone on to become one of the main criticisms levelled at cosy sff: it is about feelings. It is also one of the main points of contention because, as discussions on the difference between cosy sff and comfort reads point out, this is subjective. Some readers consider Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki a prime example of cosy fantasy because it sparks those “cosy” feelings Nassor mentions. Others disagree vehemently because the book doesn’t.
I’d argue that what these discussions do is label a common tonal consequence of cosy sff as a core requirement. As ‘cosy’ is an emotive word, this is not surprising. Throw in that more people will be familiar with the concept of a cosy genre through cosy mysteries, which are markedly different in tone to other related mysteries, and the relative ease with which a tone can be understood and it makes sense that early discussions of the genre start with the most easily visible and most easily understood aspect.
Discussions, after all, have to start somewhere and our understanding of anything never starts at multiple layers of nuance. They can’t because we don’t know enough to cover the nuance. That’s obvious from the rest of Nassor’s definition which leans towards more concrete elements ‘low stakes’, ‘feel-good’, ‘center community building or maintenance’.
Others discussions cosy sff, including myself, note roughly the same elements, albeit they may be phrased differently. The School of Plot’s definition, for example, does not say ‘community building or maintenance’, and it doesn’t use ‘family, found family, or friendships’ the way Nassor’s definition does. It says “These stories typically feature small, close-knit communities, […] and a focus on characters and their relationships rather than epic battles or world-saving quests”. (How to Write Cozy Fantasy Stories) Focusing on character relationships, especially within ‘small, close-knit communities’, however, will almost always amount to a story with a strong focus on family, found family or friendships because without those relationships there is no close-knit community to be had to begin with.
L.A. Smith’s definition in a piece for Fabled Planet notes that cosy fantasy consists of low stakes, relatable problems, and characters to care about. On the surface, this sounds like the definition provided veers wildly from the first two, with only the point of ‘low stakes’ overlapping. Smith, however, helpfully defines the points with examples. ‘relatable problems’ are just a variant of ‘low stakes’. The difference is that while readers may not relate to the act of starting a small business, they will relate to other aspects such as starting a new life over the way protagonists in cosy fantasy like L&L often do. So, then, to Smith it would seem that there is a difference between low stakes that are applicable to our own lives and low stakes that, most likely, are not. The third point of ‘characters to care about’ notes that in a cosy sff story, character is central. There are no epic battles to keep a reader engaged, no political intrigued or backstabbing to keep track of. It is just the characters and how they relate to the world around them. And when we deal with how the characters engage with the world around them, we arrive back at ‘relationships’. A character can be as interesting as anything, but if they have nothing to play off of, there is nothing there.
Walking simulators, if you’ll allow me a slight detour, are a good example of that. This genre of adventure games is often derided for its lack of interactivity and the way all the player does, as the name implies, is walk around an area. Done badly, that is what they are. Done well, these are narrative experiences about the way the player interacts with the story told to them. If the player doesn’t relate to the story being told in some way, the whole game flops for that player.
Cosy sff is more closely aligned to how Romance utilises characterisation. It cannot, and therefore does not, rely on events that will have a large emotional impact, such as an epic battle between good and evil. It relies on capturing the impact of intensely personal moments and stakes[2].
Despite all this, however, it is clear that Smith’s definition does differ and relies more on what the reader thinks is relatable or cares about, and those are both subjective criteria in a way that ‘relationships’ or ‘community’ are not. Not everyone relates to, say, The Addams Family, for example, but the fact that the show focuses on a family (i.e. a close-knit community) is undisputable.
In a personal blog post, Rachel Neumeier provides a list of six defining traits of cosy fantasy to her. They are:
1. Non-gritty; looks away from the grime of normal life
2. On the high fantasy end of the spectrum
3. Need not be a romance, but does need a HEA ending
4. Relatively low stress throughout; even if you haven’t read twenty books by the author, you can tell your favorite characters are not going to meet horrific ends.
5. People are nice to each other.
6. The tone reduces the stress level of the story. (Neumeier, Cozy Fantasy)
These are quite different from Nassor’s definition. There is nothing in this list to suggest that community is important unless ‘non-gritty’ and ‘people are nice to each other’ counts as building or maintaining community. They do suggest that some level of community is important to a cosy story, but that is only a suggestion. Neumeier makes the fantasy requirement explicit and puts it at the high end of the spectrum of fantasy. This point relies on the reader agreeing what the term ‘high fantasy’ means. We will assume the more common variant of “there is lots of magic happening” versus “magic is rare, if it exists at all”. Or, as an example, it is Wheel of Time versus A Song of Ice and Fire. However, plenty of indie cosy fantasy books fall into low fantasy using that definition. Even Legends and Lattes arguably does with how little magic actually plays into the narrative.
An important note, which is new in these definitions, is that cosy fantasy needs a HEA. It ties in to the list’s next point: that the audience will know their fave isn’t going to die horribly. A combination of the points would be that your faves, regardless of what bad stuff gets thrown at them, will get to be happy in the end.
This is also a point where discussions on cosy sff get… interesting. Aoki’s Light from Uncommon Stars starts off with a rough and honest look at the worst outcome a trans teen who runs away from home could face. It is unflinching and brutal, for all that it isn’t very graphic, and it’s a good chunk of the book. It is this opening that often has people decide the book isn’t cosy fantasy. However, the author manages to make a promise to the reader: it will get better. There is a happy ending to be found. And the delivery of that promise is what prompts readers to recommend it as cosy fantasy.
Cosy sff actually runs across the spectrum of what type of horribleness and how much of it is ‘allowed’ before a book stops being cosy sff[3], but that promise is one that I would personally agree with. Cosy sff can, and will, use horrible things in its narratives, but what sets it apart from genres like grimdark is the promise that things will be okay. This often results in, as seen in Neumeier’s fifth point, that people will be nice to each other. It is hard, after all, to create a happy ending (whether for now or ever) when all the characters hate each other’s guts and are trying to murder each other. But this fifth point does the same thing that defining cosy sff as ‘warm’ does: it has it backwards and posits a coincidental consequence of writing cosy aspects as a key pillar to creating cosy. People don’t need to be nice to one another in cosy sff. It helps, certainly, but Chambers’ Wayfarer series has some real jerks as important, central characters and, more importantly, makes some ‘happy’ choices that are anything but when examined.
In an earlier post, Neumeier defines the core characteristics of ‘positive fantasy’. Arguably, positive fantasy is a different label of cosy fantasy as it is understood today, but it is more likely a related genre. Its core points include tone and style as well as the idea that the protagonist is kind and the world is in a better place at the end than it was at the start. The first two of those criteria are fairly subjective, but kindness and an upward trend are not. (Neumeier, Positive Fantasy: Yet another possible Term)
A kind protagonist is not a requirement in cosy sff, although I’d argue that an unkind one is liable to end up becoming kinder through the influences of others in a cosy sff simply due to the effect relationships have on them over the course of the story. Kind protagonists are, however, incredibly common. Most cosy sff features them. The world becoming better by the end is similar to both Neumeier and my own determination that cosy sff requires a happy ending. Happy endings, after all, generally mean that circumstances have improved. The difference, it seems, between positive fantasy and cosy fantasy is that positive fantasy requires this to be a universal improvement, whereas for cosy sff this could simply be someone finding a home without their lives ever having any impact on the world at large.
Juliet Kemp’s A Glimmer of Silver might be an example of positive fantasy, as determined by the points Neumeier provided. It likely does not fit the definition of cosy fantasy, however, because as low as the stakes look, they are actually world-changing.
Another genre term that has overlap with cosy fantasy that emerged in this decade is ‘sweetweird’. Coined by Charlie Jane Anders, sweetweird is defined as
The core idea of sweetweird is: the world makes no sense, but we can be nurturing, frivolous and kind. We don’t have to respond to the ludicrous illogic of the world around us by turning mean and nasty, or by expecting everyone else to be horrible. At the very least, we can carve out friendly, supportive spaces in the midst of chaotic nonsense, and maybe help each other survive. (Anders)
I am sure readers can see the overlap with cosy sff in Anders’ definition. Like with positive fantasy, though, there is one key difference: sweetweird is (described as) surrealist whereas cosy sff does not have to be. Cosy fantasy can be mundane and realistic in how it builds the world.
The theme of community and support, however, remains. Though not stated overtly, the implication of a happy ending, in this case survival, in the face of everything the world throws at characters is there. The suggestion of kindness from Neumeier’s discussion on positive fantasy is there.
For my own definition of cosy fantasy I started off by taking the works often cited as cosy fantasy as well as older, well-known books that shared common themes with modern cosy fantasy and looking what they had in common. I determined that these points were: a focus on interpersonal relationships, such as family and wider communities; a focus on small, personal stakes; a focus on introspection; and a focus on domesticity.
From these I built up an initial list of my own criteria for cosy sff, namely: low but intensely intimate stakes; community; introspection; small-scale settings; an emphasis on empathy; and “happy endings”.
Of these points, introspection, domesticity, empathy and small-scale settings have not come up within the other definitions. Like others starting to define what cosy means to them, I fell into describing what is a likely consequence of writing cosy fantasy as an important pillar that is required. It is entirely possible, if very hard, to write a cosy fantasy narrative with a cast list equivalent of A Song of Ice and Fire, and likely there are multiple web-serial authors who do exactly that already. Domesticity, likewise, is not required for cosy sff. It is just that since cosy sff focuses on what are often deeply personal stakes domesticity tends to show up more. Arguably there is also an avenue for researching the impact slice-of-life manga and anime have had on authors of contemporary cosy sff, but that is beyond the scope of this piece.
Introspection actually ties in with relationships and community, but is likely not phrased as well as it ought to be even if we consider it a core part of cosy sff. Its best tie is to L.A. Smith’s definition of cosy fantasy as ‘introspection’ in this context simply means that the audience gets to know (thus relate to) the character through the focus on characterisation instead of more action-oriented narratives.
Empathy may lean too far towards subjectivity, but it ties in with the definition of positive fantasy’s note on kindness and, similarly, tie into the genre’s general focus on community and relationships.
Domesticity only really shows up in one other definition of cosy fantasy, though discussions around the genre suggest that ‘domestic fantasy’ is an older term for stories with this focus and more research into the links between this subgenre and cosy fantasy is possible. The other definition that includes domesticity in any way is forestofglory’s definition for Lady Business. At the time of this writing, this is the most recent definition of cosy sff I could source. It reads
Cozy SFF generally has small stakes, focusing on small moments, not the fate of the world. These lower stakes generally go along with much less onscreen violence in these stories. Another key aspect of cozy SFF is that it focuses on community-building. And finally, cozy SFF honors the importance of domestic labor and other undervalued jobs. (forestofglory)
Again, this definition notes that cosy sff deals with small stakes (and posits that this leads to less on-page violence). It notes that community-building is central. It also notes that it honours domestic labour (or domesticity). We can see in this definition almost all the points found in older attempts to define cosy sff and many of these definitions use similar concepts phrased or noted just a little differently to one another.
While that does mean it is true that every reader has a different definition for cosy fantasy, much like every reader has a different definition for what they consider low or high fantasy or simply what is fantasy to begin with, it is equally true that people clearly agree on several objective criteria a story must meet to be considered cosy sff.
Firstly, a story needs to deal with ‘low’ stakes such as ‘start a new business’, ‘raise a group of children’ or ‘is working as a doctor’ rather than ‘high’ stakes such as the world ending or a massive war being averted. The phrasing for these stakes may differ — and authors may utilise high stakes in the background — but at the roots the difference is the same: these are stories about people just living their lives albeit within a magical or science fictional setting.
Secondly, a story needs to deal with community-building. This strikes me as a logical step from the initial one: if someone’s goal is to start a coffee shop then building relationships with the people around them is crucial to the success of the shop, to use Legends & Lattes as an example. In The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches by Sangu Mandanna, most of the trouble the characters face comes from isolating themselves from communities and it is only through building these connections that anything gets fixed. In Naseem Jamnia’s The Bruising of Qilwa, earth-shattering social events have an impact on the characters and the world, but Firuz is more concerned with keeping their family (and anyone else they can) safe within the area of control that they have than trying to fix structural racism for everyone.
All of these books, for the curious, involve a good amount of emotional labour, often done by the protagonist, which ties into forestofglory’s third point that cosy fantasy honours undervalued jobs. The free emotional labour people do for one another is easily the most undervalued and unrecognised labour of all.
Additional requirements for cosy may include an ending that is better than where the book started or at least end on the suggestion of an upward trajectory as seen in a couple of other definitions. Another potential requirement would be that when horrible things happen in cosy sff, they are handled in a less confrontational way than they might in many other genres. This is not a way it is phrased in definitions to date, but I think it is an accurate summary of the elements of tone, style and kindness/empathy that have shown up in definitions before.
Our understanding of what cosy sff is and can be is still in its early stages, but there is no doubting that people have a rough consensus of its outlines already. Where the genre will go from here and how the boundaries will be (and likely already are) pushed is anyone’s guess.
Works Cited
Anders, Charlie Jane. “The Sweetweird Manifesto.” 4 June 2022. Happy Dancing. https://buttondown.email/charliejane/archive/the-sweetweird-manifesto/. 31 March 2024.
Aoki, Ryka. Light from Uncommon Stars. Tor Books, 2021.
Baldree, Travis. Legends & Lattes. Tor Books, 2022.
Chambers, Becky. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet. Hodder & Stoughton, 2015.
Dunsany, Lord. The Charwoman’s Shadow. G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1926.
forestofglory. “On Cozy SFF.” 25 March 2024. Lady Business. https://ladybusiness.dreamwidth.org/2024/03/25/on-cozy-sff.html. 31 March 2024.
“How to Write Cozy Fantasy Stories.” 20 November 2023. School of Plot. https://schoolofplot.com/blogs/writing-guides/how-to-write-cozy-fantasy-stories. 31 March 2024.
Jamnia, Naseem. The Bruising of Qilwa. Tachyon, 2022.
Mandanna, Sangu. The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches. Penguin Random House, 2022.
Mirrlees, Hope. Lud-in-the-Mist. Collins, 1926.
Nassor, R. “Sixties Fantasy Sitcoms and the Rise of Cozy Fantasy.” 3 May 2023. Reactor Magazine. https://reactormag.com/sixties-fantasy-sitcoms-and-the-rise-of-cozy-fantasy/. 31 March 2024.
Neumeier, Rachel. “Cozy Fantasy.” 21 July 2023. Rachel Neumeier. https://www.rachelneumeier.com/2023/07/21/cozy-fantasy/. 31 March 2024.
— . “Positive Fantasy: Yet another possible Term.” 30 September 2022. Rachel Neumeier. https://www.rachelneumeier.com/2022/09/30/positive-fantasy-yet-another-possible-term/. 31 March 2024.
Smith, L.A. “Cosy fantasy: what it is and how to write it.” 14 December 2023. Fabled Planet. https://fabledplanet.com/cosy-fantasy-what-it-is-and-how-to-write-it/. 31 March 2024.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Hobbit. George Allen & Unwin, 1937.
End Notes
[1] Coincidentally, this would mean that cosy fantasy arose alongside cosy mystery. It just took longer to find ‘cosy’ in its name.
[2] Fun fact: Grimdark does this too. They’re just small and far in between as ways to enhance the impact of the overarching plot and themes rather than as the central focus. (As such, yes, you could absolutely have a cosy sff in a grimdark setting.)
[3] Some of of mine include on-page torture and animal abuse, major character death, suicide ideation, and people still label them ‘cosy fantasy’.
