Welcome back to Wednesday Links!
It doesn’t feel like a Wednesday and time seems to be going painfully slow this week. Last night, I had a bridal dress consultation with Alysia Cole, a bridal stylist I found on Instagram. It was a wonderful half hour call and I’m eager to see her suggestions on where to shop locally and what designers might work for the style I envision. I’m especially prioritizing dresses that allow me to wear a standard bra.
If you underwent a dress hunt, how’d it go? Any advice you’d like to dispense?
…
This link comes from my colleague Jane (hi, Jane!). We had a great discussion about cozy fiction, what the label means, and what might be the key to successful cozy fiction. This piece is a very good representation of that convo.
…
From EditChief:
Here’s a card game that uses pulp magazines & novels from the 1930s and “finding your true love” as the game focus. I’ve backed this Kickstarter creator in the past so it feels like a reliable option to share.
…
Japanese teens have made trading cards of the older men in their local community. Everything about it is just delightful.
…
Lastly, let’s partake in more public library goodness.
View this post on Instagram
…
Don’t forget to share what cool or interesting things you’ve seen, read, or listened to this week! And if you have anything you think we’d like to post on a future Wednesday Links, send it my way!
I’m not sure how I feel about Dorian’s definition of cosy fiction. While I completely understand their issues with many of the most popular cosy fiction books, I don’t think these issues have to be inherent within the genre. And, for me, cosy fiction is what I read when I am so emotionally fragile that I can’t cope with high stakes. In that situation any death or tragedy in a book could set me into a spiral with serious negative consequences. So to argue that a book where the first half is full of tragedy, death, and despair could in any way constitute cosiness – regardless of the emotional payoff in the end – feels like it’s missing the point.
I understand that it’s still a genre that is defining itself, and my impression of it may differ from others. But I still remember how distraught I was when I read something marketed as cosy fantasy where a significant character died violently. It felt completely against previous examples of the genre I had read, and against the previous tone of the book. And I really, deeply struggled with it and it took me a while to recover even though there was a positive ending. I had chosen to read that book specifically because I thought it would be a safe escape when I was vulnerable, and if we’re converging on a definition of cosy fiction that allows for that level of tragedy then it’s not going to be a useful genre label for me anymore.
So, that’s my two cents. I’d be interested to know how many people out there use cosy fiction in the way I do – to escape from the “harsh emotional, material, or political realities” they’re currently facing in the real world vs those who think you need that within the book itself. I know I feel strongly about this, but also that it is clear that a lot of the genre can lean into twee-ness and the trappings of looking nice rather than being genuinely kind and meaningful.
Thank you for linking the post about cozy fiction. It kinda encapsulates why right now I am finding Holocaust/WWII memoirs of resistance members so comforting right now despite, and yet because of, the horrific parts of their stories.
@IdaliaT: For me, I find cozy for cozy’s sake to be rather boring and the world of cozy fiction sometimes just gets by on “all vibes and no plot.” I totally understand why that may be someone’s preferred taste (especially during difficult times), but I’m a reader who gravitates toward coziness having more context. However, where I bristle a little bit is the notion that cozy fiction is supposed to be completely absolved of darker topics. I also don’t view descriptors of cozy, low angst/low stakes, etc. as interchangeable, even though they can be used together (I also say this as someone who doesn’t love low stakes or low angst reads very often). For me, T. Kingfisher strikes a good balance with what I tend to enjoy in my cozy reading.
All this to say, it’s a giant YMMV!
Since many people have jumped on the trend of the ChatGPT Barbie selfie, here’s an article reminding us of the concerns about AI:
https://www-bbc-com.cdn.ampproject.org/c/s/www.bbc.com/news/articles/c5yg690e9eno.amp?fbclid=IwY2xjawJtBexleHRuA2FlbQIxMAABHgivQm3hj671qr8TYWoUHL9Fbd3KjisyuBjX22snb-jlkhq8xwBVn8OxvtUh_aem_YGd4j81sbL45wXLTpJ1vpg
I think that cozy fiction article is bonkers. Babette’s Feast is not even remotely what I would consider cozy fiction. And it’s not even being discussed as a story but as a movie, just to make it extra apples and oranges. There is not a single example of an acceptable current cozy fantasy in the article! The whole thing reeks of sour grapes, as long as we’re mixing up a fruit punch metaphor here.
What everyone finds comforting is of course going to vary from individual to individual, and everyone should find comfort where they can, I am not in any way here to judge that. I like really depressing poetry when I am at my saddest, so I couldn’t throw shade if I wanted to. It would nevertheless be an absurd stretch to say that Thomas Hardy wrote cozy fiction even though he cheers me up personally.
This author complaining that three of the most popular cozy fiction fantasies don’t work for them *because cozy fantasy should be different* is willfully missing the point. Cozy fiction may not work for everyone – I tend not to like it – but that’s fine, as long as everyone can share a sense of what it means. It’s very useful to me to know that a book is low stakes, no plot only vibes, precisely because that’s not my jam and I can manage my expectations. I loathe cozy mysteries, and I really appreciate when they are clearly labeled so they can get to the hands of the many many people who want them. Cozy fiction is a marketing term, not a value judgement.
To me, arguing that cozy fantasy should be grimmer, especially since “fantasy” exists as a category for those books) is a bit like the people who say romance novels don’t *have* to have a happy ending, that a romance can end in tragedy because Romeo and Juliet blah blah.
I love the trading card story. That’s totally adorable!
Ditto, @book_reader_ea01sj71r4! Thank you, @Amanda! And also, sending good vibes for your dress shopping! I can’t say I did a ton back in the day, and I was fortunate enough to find something at Nordstrom that I liked well enough. They hemmed it for me, and I was done. Hope you have equally swift and satisfying success!
I got married 10 yrs ago. I’m plus size, and hated most the wedding dress shops I entered almost on sight, and I did not really like the dresses on offer.
I ended up getting a dress tailor made, which was much less stressful and cheaper then the dresses off the rack.
There was a MetaFilter discussion about that piece, in which people were fairly critical of it.
What is an example of a no plot, only vibes romance novel?
Charming article in WaPo: “People form human chain, move 9,100 books to new Michigan bookstore”.
This might be a free link: https://wapo.st/3YC6Akj .
@LML: Out of what I’ve read, I’d say the following authors fall into that category for me: Travis Baldree, Sangu Mandanna, Erin Morgenstern, Rebecca Thorne, and Emily Tesh (specifically Silver int he Wood).
“No plot, just vibes” books have this sort of slice of life or ambling quality to it. Things happen, of course, but the focus is more on the characters, their day to day, and building out an environment.
@LML – Cat Sebastian describes her book Peter Cabot Gets Lost as “no plot, just vibes” – but there is actually a plot; two recent college graduates drive across the country together in 1960 (and fall in love) – but the main action is the two protags’ thoughts and feelings and iirc a lot of descriptions of diner food.
Becky Chambers’ Tea Monk and Robot series also might fit the no plot, just vibes label.
@LML – I just reread your question and realized that the Tea Monk and Robot series isn’t actually a romance, so that’s not a good example.
Oh, but Snowed in with Benefits by Misha Horne (m/m kinky romance) is another one where I think the author described it as “no plot, just vibes.” The whole plot is pretty much summed up in the title and the book really focuses on the two characters getting to know each other (and having a lot of hot sex) while snowed in together in this sprawling, isolated cabin.
@cleo: Seconding your Becky Chambers mention!
I love this discussion of cozy fantasy. I can see the article’s point, but I also agree that sometimes some readers want to escape into a story without tragedy and that’s okay. I personally find some of the books labeled cozy/cosy as boring (the ones with mostly vibes, as Amanda described) but can respect others’ desire to read them.
I envision another type of story that I consider cozy. Imagine a rom-com type romance, where the characters have some personal conflict that needs to be solved, that doesn’t necessarily involve the government, war, or evil. Maybe there is a bad coworker or a recent loss of a parent or they are rival village bakers or whatever. And then set the story in a fantasy world so that you can have fairies, dragons, magic, and other fun things. I think the story can have plenty of low-stakes conflict so that it’s not boring, and I don’t see any reason why darkness or suffering is needed just because it is set in a fantasy world.
I agree with @kkw that what is cozy depends on the reader, and with @IdaliaT that the genre is still defining itself. I’m torn about wanting the meaning to settle down and be clear, or not. From a marketing and buying standpoint that would be great, but I’d be kind of bummed if I didn’t agree with the eventual definition.
Thank you, @Amanda and @cleo! I see my confusion – I haven’t read any of the authors you’ve mentioned. I enjoy what I think of as slowly meandering (non romance) novels, so I’ll look for these authors.