In this episode, we’ll unravel what “literary fiction” actually means, what readers expect when they open a literary novel, and how you, as a writer, can approach it without falling into the trap of pretension. We'll also look at how to build your portfolio, no matter what genre you're writing.

🛋️

Overthinking Couch Topics:

• Why every sentence matters
• Balancing introspection with forward momentum in your writing
• The difference and similarities between literary fiction and genre fiction
• Giving short stories and contest entries new life

• Weekly Writing Contests - Reedsy Prompts
• » Calls for Submissions
• The Submission Grinder
• Duotrope: Find publishers and agents. Track submissions. Get published.
• The Biggest Mistake Writers Make - Writing Break
• Free Style Sheet Templates
• Free Writing Tips

Music licensed from Storyblocks.

If you have plot bunnies coming out of your plot holes, it’s time for a writing break.

This season we’ve traveled through mystery, thrillers and suspense, romance, fantasy, science fiction, historical fiction, Gothic fiction, and horror. Each genre has its own subgenres, tropes, and reader expectations.

Today, we arrive at a quieter but no less powerful destination: literary fiction. If genre fiction builds worlds, literary fiction dissects them. This is the genre that doesn’t rely on dragons, detectives, or doomsday devices. Instead, it relies on the human condition and the thousand small tremors that shape a life.

In this episode, we’ll unravel what “literary fiction” actually means, what readers expect when they open a literary novel, and how you, as a writer, can approach it without falling into the trap of pretension.

Before we get into that, though, let’s revisit something every author should consider, no matter what genre they’re writing. The Writing Break cafe is open, so let’s head inside.

A while back, we talked about entering writing contests and how, even if you don’t win, every submission sharpens your craft and expands your creative range. But what happens to those stories once the contest ends? Do they lie in wait like vampires in your hard drive, just hoping for the chance to rise again, or are they used to balance out a wobbly table? Both are solid options, but if you’re looking for something a bit more conventional, consider an anthology.

Anthologies are curated collections of short stories by multiple authors, usually connected by a theme or genre. And while they’ve long been a home for horror, sci-fi, and fantasy writers, they’re equally powerful in literary fiction. They’re an often underestimated way to get your work out into the world.

If you’ve written a story you’re proud of, even if you didn’t win or place in a competition, give it a second life by submitting it to an anthology call.

Here are four reasons anthologies matter:

Visibility. An anthology can be your first publishing credit, putting your name and work into readers’ hands alongside more established authors. If a reader picks up an anthology for a big-name contributor, they might discover you. A well-placed story in an anthology can introduce your writing to hundreds or even thousands of new readers.

Community. Sharing a book with other authors means shared promotion, cross-pollination of audiences, and a sense of camaraderie in what is often a solitary business. Writing can be solitary, but publishing doesn’t have to be.

Portfolio Growth. Each anthology credit builds your publishing résumé. It’s something to list in your query letters and on your website.

Creative Experimentation. Short stories are the perfect place to take risks. You can explore tone, structure, or perspective in ways you might not risk in a novel. You can test a different style or approach a theme that might not stretch to a novel. If it works, fantastic. If it doesn’t, you’ll know sooner than later.

And if you’re wondering where to find anthology opportunities, look at Duotrope and The Submission Grinder for searchable databases of open calls as well as Authors Publish and Reedsy’s weekly newsletters for curated opportunities. Check the show notes for more information. You can also follow small presses and literary magazines. Many announce themed anthologies tied to cultural events or causes on their websites and social media accounts.

So, if you’ve got contest entries tucked away, polish them up, and send them back into the world to find more readers by way of anthology.

Now, let’s talk about literary fiction, the genre that makes readers pause, reflect, and recognize themselves in a sentence.

So, what is literary fiction? Ask ten critics, and you’ll get ten different answers. It could be argued that literary fiction is the genre most concerned with language, theme, and emotional truth.

Plot still matters, but it’s often secondary to why things happen and what they mean. Literary fiction zooms in on the subtle turns of human behavior, the things people don’t say, the quiet decisions that change a life, and the small moments that carry enormous emotional weight. But remember to avoid navel-gazing; a character who only thinks and never acts will frustrate readers.

Literary fiction explores the extraordinary hidden inside the ordinary. its power lies in introspection, empathy, and prose so precise it can stop you mid-sentence.

Readers don’t come to literary fiction for comfort or escape. They come for depth, for challenge, and for artistry. The prose itself matters. Language is often polished, poetic, or experimental. You can play around with stream-of-consciousness narration, nonlinear timelines, shifting points of view, and even blending fiction with memoir, essay, or poetry. Feel free to experiment with form, but experimentation should always serve your work, not your ego. A fragmented timeline isn’t impressive unless it reveals something that a straight chronology couldn’t.

Readers of literary fiction expect rich, layered, and contradictory characters whose flaws feel painfully real. They also expect themes that resonate, such as grief, alienation, morality, identity, guilt, love, and hope, and they expect carefully selected diction, which means word choice, and yes, that’s where we get the word dictionary.

The plot in literary fiction is often minimal compared to genre fiction. Events happen, yes, but the true story is in how the characters respond, reflect, and change. In literary fiction, plot is the skeleton, and emotion is the bloodstream. A character’s internal experience, their choices, regrets, and realizations, are what gives the story life. That doesn’t mean “nothing happens” but rather that what happens inside the character matters as much as, if not more than, what happens around them. Still, you must remember to keep the momentum going; even if the plot is quiet, something must change, whether externally, internally, emotionally, or thematically.

Literary fiction often leans on imagery, rhythm, and subtext to make an impact on the reader. Every sentence counts. However, precision doesn’t mean pretension. Readers want authenticity, not purple prose. If the prose is so dense it drowns the reader, your reader will struggle to continue reading. Write simply if that’s what your story needs; the beauty of your story comes from the truth you’re telling, not the ornaments you’re hanging. In literary fiction, your voice is your brand. More than in any other genre, the sound and rhythm of your prose sets you apart.

Like all fiction genres and even some nonfiction genres, literary fiction explores universal questions of love, mortality, and belonging, but through very specific and personal experiences. The smaller and more particular the moment, the more universal it can feel.

“Literary” doesn’t mean cold or dry. Avoid over-intellectualizing and leaving your readers feeling emotionally detached from your story. The best stories pulse with emotion.

In literary fiction, endings are often open or unresolved, asking the reader to think rather than giving them closure. Don’t rely on ambiguity or a large vocabulary to give your work depth. Readers will know when you’re hiding behind language.

Literary fiction can overlap with other genres, as we’ve already seen in episode 132 about historical fiction. Upmarket fiction features an accessible literary style combined with strong plots. Speculative literary fiction blends sci-fi or fantasy elements with literary voice and theme and brings back the “what if” approach we discussed in episode 131 about science fiction.

These hybrids often dominate award lists and book clubs because they satisfy both head and heart.

Think of one tiny, ordinary moment, such as a dropped coffee cup, a late-night text, or a misplaced glove. Now imagine that this moment changed someone’s life. The focus here should be on style. Find your voice.

How can you make a small moment monumental through diction, rhythm, and rhetoric?

Next time, we’ll be talking about memoir and creative nonfiction.

Your life is a story, but which parts belong on the page? We’ll explore how to turn experience into narrative while balancing honesty and craft.

Until then, thank you so much for listening, and remember, you deserved this break.

Thank you for making space in your mind for The Muse today.

Writing Break is hosted by America’s Editor and produced by Allon Media with technical direction by Gus Aviles. Visit us at writingbreak.com or contact us at podcast@writingbreak.com.