The idea of “cozy” fiction seems to have spiked in the last few years. Cozy mysteries, cozy fantasies – shelves are overflowing with authors insistent of making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. (Google Trends seems to agree with me on this. Searches for cozy mystery, cozy reading, and cozy fantasy grew 2-10x since 2022).

I can imagine why we’re so interested in reading books that make us feel cozy right now. The world is an uncertain place, and we’re inundated with news that feels apocalyptic. (As I write this, Los Angeles is still on fire.) It feels natural to seek out reading that feels comforting, even escapist.

But as I think about the “rise of the cozies”, I find myself questioning their mechanisms for creating that escapist world. How effectively do a Cozy Setting and Cozy Writing Constraints enable true immersion? Are there examples of other types of “cozy fiction” we could learn from? And what makes a story truly cozy in experience?

Cozy mysteries – the origins of “cozification”

If we’re going to talk cozy fiction, the first topic has to be cozy mysteries. While many think that cozy mysteries have existed since the Golden Age, the term is actually more recent. The “cozy mystery” as a concept was coined by (primarily female) writers post-1950s, as they tried to evoke the feeling of Golden Age writing. These stories were promoted by coalitions of female writers such as Sisters in Crime and Malice Domestic. When the latter group held its first conference in 1989, they identified the “core attributes” of a cozy mystery:

1. No gore or violence
2. Typically amateur sleuths
3. Crimes that take place in a confined community (or while the established sleuth is traveling)
4. A pleasurable / comforting setting
5. Characters are driven by personal, not professional, motives (to sleuth and to commit crimes)
6. The hero does not get beaten up; romance is acceptable but sex is discreet

The new genre had gained enough popularity that the New York Times was calling it a “wave” by 1992. And in that same time period, reviewers were highlighting both pros and cons of the genre. Pros: inventive style modifications to the original mystery genre, and explorations of “major social issues”. Cons: a “relaxation of technical skills” that means authors and readers treat mystery series like a soap opera. (Note that none of the “tenets” of the cozy mystery above have to do with mystery quality, which one finds it hard to believe Agatha Christie would’ve approve of.)

The modern cozy mystery

I think it’s fair to say that, in the intervening 30 years, those trends have only grown stronger. Modern “Cozy Mysteries” like the Tita Rosie’s Kitchen series emphasize protagonists’ role in their local communities. They also explore various social issues, including racism, sexism, immigration, and queer life. These make for a richer, more inclusive set of stories to engage with, which bring comfort to more readers. Comfort is paramount: common settings include a small cafe or other restaurant, a library, or a bookstore (aka favorite haunts of readers). A good modern cozy mystery has a cozy aesthetic.

At the same time, puzzles are rarely the center of the stories. Gone are the “fair play” rules from the Golden Age; protagonists may simply stumble across the solution last-minute. (I remember a a particularly egregious series where the protagonist routinely got kidnapped or held at gunpoint by an over-paranoid criminal, who would otherwise have gotten off scot-free.)And in the longest cozy mystery series, much of the plot focuses on personal intrigue and small business shenanigans. (Reading too many Hannah Swensen mysteries can feel like reading a combination cookbook and serial drama.) Unlike a “traditional” mystery reader, a cozy mystery reader doesn’t want surprise from their read. Cozies thrive in familiarity, in inclusion, and in escape.

In fact, the original Golden Age novels that the original cozy mystery writers meant to emulate differ greatly from modern “cozies”. Today’s cozy mystery writers often take the tropes of those novels, originally written because of audience familiarity – a small village, a senior and / or female amateur sleuth, “readerly” reference – and use them to create a mystery atmosphere. But the heart of the modern cozy mystery series is the serial drama, the characters’ lives and relationships.

Cozy fantasy novels – community stories in an epic setting

That pattern – taking the aesthetic of a genre and using it to write intimate stories – has now bled into fantasy. For decades, fantasy has been full of epic tales and the rise and fall of empires. Fantasy stories involved daring exploration, risky political machinations, perilous magical experiments, and clever and courageous protagonists. They also required elaborate, magical settings, full of intricate magic systems and fantastic beasts. Cozy fantasy reclaims these settings, asking, “But surely, while all that war was happening, someone had to make jam / coffee / tea / baked goods?”

Slight snark aside, these novels can be quite enjoyable to read. Without having to shove in a mystery to solve, their stories can focus on the establishment of community and all the quirks that magic might bring to that experience. Store mascots, for example, can go beyond the cuteness of a cat and actually attain sentience and speech. Magical races often mean a protagonist must demonstrate creative fictional inclusion. And fantasy settings can allow for objectively gorgeous settings, unconstrained by physics, geography, or economics. (Why does the town in The Spellshop decide to have orchards full of trees from so far away they need magic to sustain? Sounds economically dubious at best.)

Because the fantasy setting so often correlates with war or rebellion, protagonists might create tension by trying to hide some part of their past from their new, cozy community. In Legends and Lattes, Viv has to protect her new coffee shop from old foes. In the Tomes and Tea series, the protagonists have escaped service to a pretty nasty ruler. The Spellshop’s protagonist is actively escaping a rebellion. And inevitably, when that past comes back to bite them, the new community bands together in support of the protagonist. Cozy fantasy stories feed the fantasy that, if you can just create a cozy enough space for others, they will love you unconditionally. And also, there will be fairies.

”Healing novels” – mystery, fantasy, and others

Beyond cozy mysteries and fantasies, I’ve seen a third kind of “cozy” novel on the rise. Healing fiction, frequently originally from Japan or Korea, seems much like Western cozy genre fiction on the surface. The stories often feature a community proprietor (restaurateur, bookseller, librarian, barista) who builds a relationship with their community, using perhaps literally magical powers of recommendation. There’s often a “mystery” of personal proportions to untangle. But despite this surface-level similarity, healing fiction comes at coziness from a completely different direction, and it feels worth exploring.

Unlike Western cozy fiction, which centers the store proprietors as they build a community, healing fiction centers several protagonists. The novels are often a series of short stories, each focusing on a different community member who needs healing. And while each community member visits the library / café / bookstore and begrudgingly accepts a recommendation from its mysterious proprietor, the majority of their story focuses on how their lives improve as a result. These customers might find jobs, or the courage to finally write their Great Novel, or an understanding of their parents’ love.

The resulting novels are collages of lives seeing meaningful improvements, one community member at a time. In many healing novels, customers “pay it forward”, referring others to these mysterious and wholesome stores and allowing new stories to improve. Over the course of the novel, a reader gets to see an entire community grow, entirely the result of small actions by a seemingly powerless individual. These are stories of regaining inspiration, agency, and autonomy. They carry clear messages about what it takes to gain success and how society can help. I, personally, find them both inspiring and cozy in a way that Western cozy fiction can’t match.

Getting lost in a great book

Before we draw any conclusions about cozy reading, I want to take a moment to think about when I’ve felt coziest while reading. I most recently had this experience while reading Tress of the Emerald Sea, which totally immersed me in its narration and worldbuilding. Tress combined creative worldbuilding with intriguing and entertaining characters, with a tone that conveyed a modicum of security. (It was clear from the Princess Bride-like narration that Tress was probably going to survive the book, and not end up too maimed in the process.) Also in the realm of fantasies to curl up with is the Emily Wilde series, which combines intriguing characters with an explorable faerie world.

Over in the mystery side of the house, Richard Osman’s Thursday Murder Club series is possibly the coziest mystery series to hit shelves in the last decade. Elizabeth, Joyce, Ibrahim, and Ron have won over literally millions of hearts and minds. Their friendship and their growing community are at the heart of the novels, as are the intricate mysteries they solve. But while Osman centers the novels on a (presumably cozy) retirement community, his characters do experience both violence and deep sorrow. And it’s this depth of emotion that elevates the novels (and reminds me to hug my loved ones once I’m done reading).

Then there are the epistolaries. I ate up Murder Your Employer, with its distinctive premise and entertaining narration. The story was immersive, engaging, and surprising, unpacking moral dilemmas with snark and verve. I found myself completely lost in each character’s murderous plans, alternating between judgement and justification. And of course, the McMaster School itself was both creative and hilarious – a perfect storm of “what ifs”.

”Cozy vibes” vs. true coziness: stories with something to say

These may all seem like disparate examples, and that’s kind of the point. A great read is not “cozy” because it hits you over the head with comfortable trappings. A great read makes you feel cozy by immersing you in its story, its characters, its world. To me, the coziest feeling while reading is that of “flow”, when you forget that you’re reading fiction and the story comes to life around you. It can be difficult to do that when the narration keeps lampshading how escapist each scene is.

Perhaps the biggest flaw of modern “cozy” fiction, then, is that there’s only so many times one can tread the same trope-boards before they get boring. Community stories that feel charming the first time quickly feel trite and repetitive when you reach read five or ten. Without the intrigue of a well-crafted puzzle, the romantic entanglements of a thirty-book protagonist quickly lose their appeal.

If we take this all the way back to the roots of the cozy mystery genre, one can see where it all falls apart. Writers tired of pointless gore and “shock creep” decided to emulate the immersive stories that made them love the mystery genre. Unfortunately, while they correctly identified what mysteries didn’t need to work well, they misidentified what made Golden Age mysteries great. It turns out Poirot, Marple, Wimsey, and Alleyn work well not because they take place in the English countryside. They work well because they center an interesting idea and fill a world with realistic and interesting characters that catch and keep your interest. (And sure, a happy ending helps.)

The best and coziest reads, in my opinion, follow in that tradition. It’s hard to be truly immersed in a book that feels familiar or tropes. And it’s easy and wonderful to get lost in a story that imagines a brand-new world. As we kick off 2025, I hope that your year is fully of truly cozy reading material…

Until next time, stay cozy and stay curious!