In the final part of our Fantasy Subgenre Series, we explore the soft side of the genre: Cozy Fantasy, Slice-of-Life Fantasy, Eco-Fantasy, Children’s Fantasy, YA Fantasy, Comical/Satirical Fantasy, Fairy-Tale Fantasy, and Fairy-Tale Retellings.
Overthinking Couch Topics:
Music licensed from Storyblocks.
Welcome back to Writing Break and welcome to the soft side of the fantasy spectrum.
We’re reviewing fantasy subgenres that soothe, heal, delight, and charm. The first two episodes in this mini series showed us how big and how dark fantasy can get. This final episode shows shows us magic that comforts instead of terrifies.
The Writing Break café is open, so let’s settle in, fill our mugs, and step into worlds where the magic is kind and the stakes are gentle.
We'll start with Cozy Fantasy because it's a subgenre of fantasy that is getting quite popular these days, but there is still a lot of room for more books in this subgenre. This is the warm blanket of fantasy—stories set in cottage-grove villages, enchanted bookshops, magical tea rooms, and inns where the pastries are as important as the plot. Readers do not come to Cozy Fantasy for adrenaline. Nothing world-ending happens here. Instead, the stakes are personal: a missing recipe, a tiny curse, a neighborly misunderstanding, a mischievous sprite hiding in the flour bin.
Cozy Fantasy celebrates community, belonging, and the magic woven into daily life. It’s gentle but not boring, soft but not shallow. Writers must let readers smell the herbs drying, hear the fire crackling, and taste the enchanted honey.
Next up is Slice-of-Life Fantasy, which is more introspective than Cozy Fantasy. The focus here is on the rhythms of magical everyday life. Instead of epic quests, we see characters performing their morning rituals, apprentices learning spells, and friendly beasts tending shops.
Slice-of-Life Fantasy readers aren't looking to be wowed with spectacle; they just want a moment to rest. This subgenre invites readers to slow down and appreciate how gentle moments can become their own kind of magic. For writers, it’s a chance to craft a meditative world where even the smallest act feels enchanted.
Now let’s discuss Eco-Fantasy, which treats nature as a living prescence.
In Eco-Fantasy, nature is a guide, a teacher, and sometimes a deity. Magic comes through rivers, roots, winds, and ancestral spirits. Conflicts center on balance, harmony, renewal, and humanity’s relationship with the land.
Readers come to Eco-Fantasy for its reverence. These are stories that remind us we’re part of something larger and more ancient than civilizations. For writers, Eco-Fantasy is an invitation to think of nature as a character with agency and voice. Let the land speak. Let the seasons guide the pacing. Let the magic grow out of the soil, the sea, the sky.
In Eco-Fantasy, the world is alive and the characters listen to it.
Speaking of listening, let’s visit the readers who hear magic most clearly.
Children’s Fantasy is the pure, joyous subgenre that gives readers a world where enchantment is real, adventure is safe, and friendship matters more than power. It's where talking animals offer helpful advice and doorways lead to wondrous places.
Adults read this genre for nostalgia. Kids read it to see themselves as heroes. And writers create it to build a world where the stakes are clear but never crushing and to remind us that wonder and curiousity are not just for kids.
Following Children's Fantasy is Young Adults Fantasy, which mixes magic with the intensity of asolescence.. This is the genre of found families, identity quests, first love, rebellion, destiny, and transformation.
Characters stand on the threshold between who they were and who they’re becoming. The pace of YA Fantasy is fast and the feelings are big. The magic is tied to the character’s sense of self: their lineage, their fears, their trauma, their destiny.
Readers love YA Fantasy because it captures that moment in life when everything feels high-stakes, even before dragons, curses, and magical societies are added to them. YA is the place to be fearless and to show a young audience how to be fearless.
Before we shift into folklore, let’s make room for a little laughter.
Comical or Satirical Fantasy is the genre that asks, Why take magic so seriously when it could be absolutely ridiculous? This is where enchanted swords have opinions, spells backfire with comedic flair, dragons negotiate union benefits, and prophecies are read by consultants who are way behind schedule.
This subgenre pokes fun at fantasy tropes, heroism, bureaucracy, and the absurdity of magical life. It entertains, but it also offers insight through laughter.
Readers come here to laugh, to lighten the emotional load, and to experience fantasy without the grim weight of destiny pressing down on them. For writers, Comical Fantasy demands timing, tone, and cleverness. But writers get to indulge in joyful chaos.
Now, for It’s time for something older, deeper, and dreamlike.
Fairy-Tale Fantasy can get pretty dark, but I included it in this episode because it's the first kind of fantasy we encounter in our lives, and we usually don't get dark versions of fairy-tales until we're a bit older. Fairy-Tale Fantasy should feel like folklore that has been passed down for centuries. I know Fairy-Tale Retellings are popular these days, but you can write your own, original fairy-tale. They can be foreboding, like those collected by the Brothers Grimm, or more lighthearted, like the Disney versions of the same stories.
Fairy-Tale Fantasy stories are built from the bones of folklore with enchanted forests, humble heroes, bargains at crossroads, beasts who speak in riddles, and magic that follows emotional logic.
Fairy-Tale Fantasy thrives on archetypes, such as the clever child, the cursed sibling, and the witch who might help you or eat you. This is the subgenre for writers who want their stories to feel timeless.
But what if we go back to the familiar on purpose?
Fairy-Tale Retellings take familiar tales and search around for the unanswered questions, the forgotten characters, and the unspoken truths. These retellings can be feminist, queer, dark, romantic, humorous, or culturally reimagined. As long as the story honors its roots while growing in a new direction, the retelling works.
Readers love the blend of nostalgia and surprise, and writers love the opportunity to fill in the gaps the original stories left behind.
And now for the paradox promised to you at the beginning of this mini series.
First, let me set the scene. It was my freshman year of college and I was spending the weekend in my then-boyfriend's hometown. I knew the relationship wasn't going anywhere, but I was never good at breaking up with people. After a few hours with his family, one lackluster relative in particular, I needed to escape, which is how I found myself on the second floor of a large used bookstore leafing through a book called The Sleeping Beauty by Ralph Harper.
Sleeping Beauty was my favorite fairy-tale as a child, but this was not the full story of Sleeping Beauty. Instead, the author uses the fairy-tale to philosophize that our inner life recognizes truth before we fully understand it. On page 14, I read a paragraph that hit me so profoundly, it felt like the room tilted. I'll read it for you now.
"We cannot long for something we do not know; we know only what is in some way already experienced. However new an experience seems to be, if it fulfils longing it is recognized as familiar as well as new. Fulfilment is in some sense a return. This is illustrated by the tale of The Sleeping Beauty. The princess returns to life; the prince himself comes out of nowhere. And yet to the princess the prince is familiar. To the prince the princess is beyond expectation. There is this paradox in the fairy story that matches the paradox in experience. A fairy story is the story of enchantment. Enchantment is a mixture of the familiar and the unexpected; so is the fulfilment of longing in the story. In experience we know that only something new can fill the emptiness, the frustration, the loss, and yet what we actively look forward to, in longing, is like something we have met somewhere before."
Now that I think about it, maybe Leonard Cohen was saying the same thing when he said, "And everyone who wanted you, they found what they will always want again." That's from his song, "Take This Longing," and I'll add a link to that song in the show notes.
We've reached the end of our journey through the gentlest edges of fantasy. Thank you for joining me for this three-episode adventure through the fantasy multiverse. If you want to know more about fantasy subgenres, and there is much more to know, let me know.
eek after that we'll kick off:Until then, thank you so much for listening, and remember, you deserved this break.