Critique of a Critique of "Cozy Horror"
Just read this article, have some thoughts. It’s by a British critic, and he does NOT tell you he’s only a critic from the outset, which I think is a little dishonest. So, I’m going to tell you at the outset that I am a professionally-trained writer and storyteller, as in I went to school for it and was taught by working writers, led by Tim Powers and James Blaylock; and I have been actively writing and publishing and receiving feedback from both the audience and other writers about my writing since I was 13 years old. Traditional publishing is something I grew up expecting as the norm, and it is still the way I consider myself to be inclined, having investigated, observed, and considered self-publishing; but ultimately deciding that is not what I am about. I tell you all of this at the beginning so you know how to weight my opinions on Vazh’s claims about my profession and my craft.
There’s parts of his article I agree with, and parts that seem to be tarring every single SFF writer with the same brush; he then disclaims himself only once you get toward the very end like, “I’m not a writer” ok, well, that means I’ve just thrown most of your credibility out the window, fella. I mean, he makes some good points, and I’m sure he’s right about the publishing history, and I know he’s right on the bits about Racefail and so on; but I’m not sure the whole article and his sweeping (and rather smugly self-congratulatory) conclusion about “SFF is full of rabid idiots, Horror is the only good genre; we’re sooo much better than them” is the best conclusion to draw here.
I’ve attempted to get into horror, from Benny Little, to Stephen King, to Poe, to Lovecraft, to classic stuff like Frankenstein and Dracula and Jekyll and Hyde; and I think I’m just not someone that gets scared from a book? I’m not sure. I do like a lot of those stories—Poe is my favourite author—but they don’t scare me. And it isn’t that I’m not afraid of anything—I’m afraid of a lot of things. I can’t listen to The Magnus Archives, for example. My point is, I don’t know why he’s holding up King and Lovecraft and other popular writers of the horror genre like they’re appreciably writing anything of different quality to their peers in other genres… except that they happen to scare him, which he seems to interpret as them having some kind of mystical power. Which, “whether it scared me the first time I read it—me, someone who only reads horror” is a terrible metric.
Because writing is not mysticism, it’s not magic—it’s a craft, like woodworking. What you personally like is not necessarily objectively better than what you don’t (a stupidly large amount of so-called critics don’t seem to understand this). The question isn’t “did I like this?” it’s “was this concept executed well?”. I’m not going to put a hand-carved wooden mechanical cuckoo clock in my house, because that is not something I like; but I do recognise that a hand-carved wooden mechanical cuckoo clock is objectively a wondrous object made by someone with a great deal of skill and with hours of labour. To say that such a clock is objectively bad and poorly made because it is not to your personal taste would be considered crass and incorrect as an assessment. So why do we allow such a thing when talking of fiction, particularly horror? A person who habitually reads horror is going to become harder and harder to scare, so their using their own fear as a metric is no good. A person who habitually reads humour becomes harder to make laugh. But while you can watch someone make a cuckoo clock and learn to appreciate the skill and time, you cannot do the same with writing, writing is all done alone and mostly inside the writer’s mind. The typing of words is really the end of a very long internal process of thinking. You can’t watch that. You can’t know what goes into writing until you do it, yourself.
And I actually did read one of Vazh’s book reivews, I’m not claiming this out of nowhere—I read a review of the Ursula Vernon book he mentions in this article, and it’s very clear that he is in fact someone that thinks his own personal taste is objective, that his own personal emotional interpretation is objective. It’s eye-rollingly ridiculous that you cannot actually trust his judgement, he even lays out why you shouldn’t in the review as he tries to support his argument.
As a writer, one of the hardest things to learn—but one of the most important to furthering your own learning of your craft—is how to “read like a writer”. Reading things paying attention to pacing, structure, conceit, word choice, syntax, even rhythm. Being able to pull the curtain aside and watch the gears turn and the springs uncoil is the key to understanding whether something has been executed well—or badly. And believe me, once you pull that curtain aside, it’s hard to put it back. That’s why it’s important to read as much variety as possible. Without knowing how to do this, without understanding how the sausage is made, you cannot really successfully analyse which parts of the process went right and which went wrong. To compare it to telling jokes: Without knowing that humour relies on Delivery and Timing, without knowing a joke is structured on a Setup and a Punchline, you cannot actually figure out why a joke was good or bad, all you know is when it works on you.
Vazh’s assertion that authors have some kind of obligation to know “what readers want” (even as he holds up horror writers as being good because they don’t do that, and denigrating SFF as being bad because they do ) is laughably entitled and deeply uninformed about how writing a book works. Professionally speaking, I was taught by the originators of Steampunk , who were always emphasising that thinking about what genre you wrote in was bad. “Genre is for your editor to worry about, you worry about writing the story” Mr Blaylock always told us when we fretted about what genre we were. The professors of his Creative Writing department always taught us that the minute you started thinking about “what do readers want” was the minute you stopped being any good and started being a hack. The fact that Vazh thinks authors should pay attention to that, rather than paying attention to our job, which is writing a story, is the same attitude that fuels these “too defensive and afraid to engage with their story, can’t get off of Don’t Hate Me Island” stories he’s complaining and fretting will infect his favourite genre. A lot of his observations are true; his conclusions, however, trip over his… shall we say, “being an audience member who has never even done a school play”, to use a metaphor.
I think it isn’t just horror that is starting to suffer from being too self-conscious and scared of harassment to actually buckle down and do the business of telling a story. I have seen that defensive style of writing start to infect everything; and it started way back in 2012 or so. It isn’t just horror—horror is simply the last genre seeing this happen. And I think it’s not entirely irrational for an author to worry—as Vazh pointed out, this is an age of harassment unparalleled, and harassment has never had much consequence, even before social media. Social media makes it easier to do, and the culprits harder to catch, than ever; and the message to authors is still what it’s always been: get a thick skin or get out of the profession. So I can see why people would over-correct and cater toward the group most likely to send suicide bait and other horrible things. Unfortunately, that means you aren’t creating art so much as pap .
I think if it’s true that publishers are now majority staffed by white middle-aged women, that White Woman Tears are a huge part of the problem of “well anyone that has anything negative to say is an egotistical sexist bigot”. And let’s be real, White Woman Tears have been a problem for decades. Just because women are in charge now doesn’t mean the kyriarchy isn’t still being enforced, I agree with Vazh on that. That’s kind of what a lot of writers mean by decolonizing SFF. We are not a monolith that all throw our weight behind the publisher. That’s ludicrous to assume. Publishers are like Studios, and they treat Talent exactly the same way. Wild that Vazh doesn’t seem to get that.
Vazh having a clear non-understanding and dismissive attitude toward “decolonize SFF” is thinly-veiled bigotry that also—again—displays that he thinks SFF writers are the same thing as SFF publishers. But the solution to the problems he’s correctly observing is decolonization, is publishers that are run by Black and Indigenous People of Colour (or BIPOC, as it’s often abbreviated), is SFF that is written by BIPOC, rather than simply SFF that stars a white author and white editor and white publisher’s idea of palatable BIPOC. The solution is the same as it is in Hollywood, and you can point to Hollywood as proof the solution works—how many successful films and shows are being written by BIPOC about BIPOC and casting BIPOC? Kpop Demon Hunters, Shogun*, Nope, Lovecraft Country, Prey, Reservation Dogs, Guillermo del Toro’s Cabinet of Curiosities , Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss… there’s dozens of examples, more by the day as the big studios are forced to accept that the people want other than white men’s stories.
If only book publishers—and their critics—would understand that they need to look to their sister formats of storytelling to see what is the path forward.
*I'm aware the book Shogun was originally written by a white man; the tv series, however, is written by Japanese-American writers in collaboration with Japanese actors to improve the cultural and historical accuracy. And it is a wildly popular adaptation because of this.
 








