Ask the Author: Can genre fiction be literary?

Dear Mandy,

Can genre fiction be literary?

Answer: IDK, Patty, do you think works by Edgar Allan Poe and Mary Shelley are literary? If so, do you think they aren’t also genre fiction? What about Wuthering Heights (gothic/mystery), Brave New World (dystopian), or The Lord of the Rings (epic fantasy)?

Exactly.

This question comes up a lot, and it’s usually asked with the unspoken assumption that genre fiction sits a rung or two below “real” literature. As if, once you introduce a murder, a monster, a dragon, or a dystopian government, depth immediately evacuates the premises. So, let’s slow down and actually unpack what we’re talking about.

First, let’s define literature. At its most basic level, literature is written work that tells a story, conveys ideas, explores human experience, or reflects something about the world we live in. That’s it. There’s no requirement that it be grim, confusing, or joyless. There’s also no clause banning magic, ghosts, or spaceships.

Now let’s define literary. When people call a book “literary,” they’re usually pointing to qualities like thematic depth, emotional resonance, intentional craft, symbolism, or social commentary. In other words, the work is doing something beneath the surface. It’s not just what the story is, but how and why it’s being told.

So, in what ways can a piece of literature be considered literary? It asks meaningful questions. It engages with ideas larger than the plot. It invites interpretation. It trusts the reader to think and feel. None of those qualities are exclusive to realism or contemporary fiction. Genre fiction does this all the time—it just does it while also telling a compelling story.

Which brings us to the gatekeepers. In what ways do literary gatekeepers keep certain works from being considered literary? Most often by equating accessibility with a lack of seriousness. If a book is readable, immersive, emotionally engaging, or—gasp—popular, it’s frequently dismissed as lightweight. Genre labels become a convenient excuse to stop engaging critically with the work.

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There are pros to literary gatekeeping. Craft matters. Standards matter. Not every book is deep, and not every book is trying to be. The problem starts when gatekeeping shifts from evaluating quality to enforcing taste. And that’s where my patience tends to run out.

In my experience, literary gatekeepers often favor writing that is intentionally inaccessible—writing that takes enormous effort to parse and, sometimes, still makes little to no sense. I’ve read “literary” novels that reward that effort with absolutely nothing, and I genuinely believe some of those books function like the Emperor’s New Clothes. Critics nod along, praise is heaped, and no one wants to admit they didn’t actually get it.

Take Kathy Acker’s Great Expectations. Late in the novel, she explicitly states that she can write whatever she wants, and the literati will lap it up. She says this outright—I don’t have the exact quote in front of me. I would find it for you, but my copy of the book went straight into the nearest little free library the moment I was certain we were done discussing it in the Advanced Creative Writing Workshop that forced me to buy it.

That professor, by the way, was a full-on literary snob (we weren’t allowed to write about dragons), and I couldn’t help wondering how he missed the fact that Acker was openly mocking the very system he revered. I stopped reading as soon as I hit that passage, because frankly, Acker gave me permission to. Not only permission—she was also making fun of me for having read that far.

Y’all. Kathy Acker is laughing at your pretentious asses from her grave.

Here’s where I land on the whole thing: what makes a piece of literature literary is depth. Depth of character, depth of theme, depth of thought. And in my opinion, a truly good author can achieve that depth without sacrificing accessibility. Difficulty is not the same thing as intelligence. Confusion is not the same thing as insight. Literature can be challenging, thoughtful, and layered while still welcoming readers in rather than shutting them out.

It’s also perfectly okay if you prefer reading that isn’t literary or doesn’t aim for depth. Not every book needs to interrogate the human condition. Some stories exist to entertain, to comfort, to distract, or to delight—and those purposes are just as valid. As long as the author achieves what they set out to do, the work has value. Who is anyone else to judge that?

So, to answer your original question, yes—genre fiction can be literary. Often, it already is. The only thing standing in the way is whether the “right people” are willing to admit it.

—Mandy

This column is part of an ongoing Ask the Author series, where I answer questions from writers and readers about reading, writing, storytelling, and the creative process. If you have a question you’d like me to tackle in a future post, you can submit it through the contact page on my website.

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