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What Is Literary Fiction? A Simple Guide to the Genre

 

Literary fiction is one of those genres everyone has heard of, but few people can define. Ask five readers what makes a book "literary," and you'll probably get five different answers.

Some people think it means nothing happens. Others assume it just means beautiful writing or books they had to read in college.

We don't think either definition tells the whole story.

Literary Fiction Is Character Driven

If we had to sum up literary fiction in one sentence, it would be this:

Literary fiction uses its plot to reveal or transform its characters.

That doesn't mean there isn't a plot. There usually is. The difference is that the events matter because of how they change the people experiencing them.

A thriller asks, Who committed the crime?

A romance asks, Will these two people end up together?

Literary fiction is often more interested in asking, What does this experience reveal about this person?

The external story matters, but the internal one matters more.

Does Literary Fiction Have a Plot?

One of the biggest misconceptions about literary fiction is that "nothing happens."

Sometimes that's true. More often, it isn't.

Many literary novels feature mysteries, romances, family dramas, speculative elements, or historical settings. The difference is where the emphasis lies.

The plot provides the framework, but the emotional journey is what drives the book.

That's why readers often remember the characters long after they've forgotten the sequence of events.

Does Literary Fiction Need Beautiful Writing?

Not necessarily.

We don't think literary fiction has to rely on flowery prose or elaborate descriptions.

Good writing doesn't have to draw attention to itself.

Some of our favorite literary novels use clear, straightforward language that quietly pulls you into a character's world. Instead of admiring individual sentences, you're thinking about the people long after you've finished reading.

For us, that's the hallmark of strong writing.

Do Literary Fiction Characters Need to Be Likable?

Absolutely not.

In fact, many memorable literary protagonists are deeply flawed.

They make questionable decisions. They can be frustrating, selfish, or difficult to understand.

The goal isn't to make readers approve of them.

The goal is to make readers understand them.

Some of the most rewarding literary novels ask us to sit with complicated people and consider why they became who they are.

Can Literary Fiction Belong to Other Genres?

Yes.

This is where genre conversations get interesting.

A novel can be literary while also being a mystery, historical novel, speculative novel, or family drama.

Those labels aren't always competing with one another.

A book like Bel Canto uses a hostage situation as its premise, but its lasting impact comes from the relationships that develop between the characters.

Likewise, books like Nothing to See Here, Station Eleven, and The God of the Woods blend literary elements with other genres.

Why Is Literary Fiction So Difficult to Adapt?

As a book-to-screen podcast, this is one of our favorite questions.

Literary fiction often spends significant time inside a character's thoughts.

Movies and television don't have that luxury.

Instead, adaptations have to find visual ways to communicate what the novel accomplishes internally.

That might mean expressive performances, carefully chosen voiceovers, or even adding scenes that weren't in the original book.

The best adaptations don't necessarily recreate every page.

They preserve the emotional experience.

Our Take

Literary fiction isn't defined by difficult vocabulary, slow pacing, or a lack of plot.

It's defined by its focus.

These stories are primarily interested in people. Their relationships, their flaws, their growth, and the choices that shape who they become.

If you enjoy books that leave you thinking about the characters long after you've finished the final page, literary fiction might already be one of your favorite genres.


Want to hear the full discussion?

In this week's mini episode of Chapter One, Scene One, we dive deeper into literary fiction, discuss some of our favorite examples, and debate whether beautiful writing is actually required for a book to earn the label.

Margo's Got Money Troubles

 On paper, "young single mom starts an OnlyFans to survive" sounds like a premise built for clicks and arguments, not a story. We want to be upfront that we went in expecting exactly that. We were wrong, and we spent most of the episode arguing about how wrong.


This week we're covering Margo's Got Money Troubles, the novel by Rufi Thorpe, adapted into the Apple TV+ series with Elle Fanning, Nicole Kidman, Michelle Pfeiffer, and Nick Offerman. Margo is 19. Her college professor gets her pregnant, or really, they get each other pregnant. Her mom is checked out. Her dad is a former professional wrestler fresh out of rehab. She runs out of money and starts an OnlyFans playing an alien who doesn't understand what boobs are.


The book argument comes down to this: is this actually about OnlyFans, or is OnlyFans just the platform for a much older story about monetizing your own identity to survive. We did not agree on whether that idea still lands or reads dated at this point. One of us thinks the shock value expired around 2020. The other thinks the specific platform is beside the point.


The wrestling parallel does more work than it should. Margo's dad built a career on a persona everyone knows is constructed and buys into anyway. Margo does the same thing on camera. There's a term for it in wrestling, kayfabe, and we get into whether the show actually understood that idea or just kept the wrestling as a fun character detail.


Then there's the professor. We put his storyline on trial: greenlight or jail. The book makes the power imbalance sharp enough to be uncomfortable. Whether the show earns the same discomfort is where we landed very differently, and Laura is not letting him off easy.


Casting-wise, Nicole Kidman was a genuine surprise pull for this cast, and Nick Offerman as a washed-up wrestler is somehow both an odd choice and immediately correct.


Ratings landed somewhere in the range of mad about the professor to lower than expected. That's all you get until you hit play.


Full episode is up now wherever you get your podcasts, or at linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.

The Call Is Coming From Inside the Marriage - Domestic Thriller Genre


What we're talking about this week


The domestic thriller became a marketing machine, a recognizable aesthetic, and somehow a litmus test for what readers actually want when they sit down with a book and a glass of something that will almost certainly become a plot device.


This week we traced the whole arc. From Gone Girl in 2012, to the Girl era, to the Wife era, and finally to BookTok turning Freida McFadden into one of the biggest-selling authors in publishing. Domestic thrillers found one fear that keeps working. The danger isn't a stranger. It's the person who knows your Wi-Fi password.


We also ran the genre through Green Light or Jail. Voiceover narration got a green light. Giant designer kitchens went straight to jail. The unreliable wife? Katya sentenced her to federal prison.


One debate from the episode


Have domestic thrillers evolved, or have they just been optimized?


Michelle argued they've been optimized. Smaller casts. Fewer locations. Dual perspectives. Everything is built to keep you saying, "Just one more chapter." And she made a point we couldn't really argue with. If a book keeps you reading until 2 a.m., the way you did when you were a kid, it's doing something right.


Laura wasn't completely convinced. She thinks the twist arms race has diminishing returns. Gone Girl changed the game with one unforgettable twist. Now some thrillers stack twist on twist until it feels less like a surprise and more like a magic trick. At some point, the goal shifts from telling a great story to outsmarting the reader.


So where do you land? Are domestic thrillers still evolving, or are we all just chasing the feeling of reading Gone Girl for the first time?


🎧 This week's episode



Three Bags Full or The Sheep Detectives - Book vs Movie


 On paper, a sheep-detective mystery set in rural Ireland sounds like the most charming thing you've ever heard. It is not a cozy mystery. We want to be very clear about that upfront, because the marketing was not, and we went in completely unprepared.


This week Michelle and Laura read Three Bags Full by Leonie Swann and watched the Amazon/MGM adaptation The Sheep Detectives, which is in theaters now. The argument we're still having is this: when a film improves on its source material so thoroughly that it barely resembles the book, is that an adaptation win or did they just make a completely different movie? We did not agree. We are inviting you to pick a side.


The book debate is really a genre debate. Three Bags Full markets itself as cozy mystery. It is not. It's closer to Animal Farm if Animal Farm had a sheep theology subplot and spent 70% of its runtime on pasture politics before remembering it was supposed to solve a crime. It's dark, it's slow, and it's genuinely original in a way that does not make it easier to read. If you love dark European philosophical allegory dressed up as detective fiction, this is your book. If you expected cozy, it is not. The marketing was wrong, and we are not over it.


The film is a different story. Literally a different story. The Sheep Detectives takes the same dead shepherd and the same flock and goes somewhere warmer, funnier, and significantly more watchable. It also assembled a cast that makes no logical sense for a sheep mystery and is completely correct for it: Hugh Jackman, Emma Thompson, Patrick Stewart, Bryan Cranston, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and Brett Goldstein as Two Sheep. Laura recognized Brett Goldstein's voice immediately and said "that's Brett Goldstein" out loud every single time he spoke. This is a full episode within the episode. She regrets nothing.


The film got us in ways the book didn't. The book makes you sad about humanity. The film makes you cry about sheep, which is somehow worse and also better. There is one scene involving the concept of becoming clouds that you should be warned about. We were warned. We still weren't ready.


We voted for the film. One bookmark out of five for the book, for originality and for finishing it. Three popcorn buckets out of five for the film. The sheep deserved better than the book gave them, and the movie finally gave them their moment.


Katya sat this one out. Given what the book put us through, we're calling it a gift.


Come listen, come tell us we're wrong about the book, and find everything at https://linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.



The One With All the Genres


This week on Chapter One, Scene One, we kicked off a new mini-episode series all about genre. Spoiler: "book club fiction" is not a genre, literary fiction labels are mostly a marketing flex, and covers absolutely lie.


We started with the basics: what is a genre even doing? The short answer is that it's a contract. When someone tells you a book is a romance, you expect a love story and a happily ever after. A thriller promises tension, danger, and maybe a body. A mystery gives you a puzzle. When a book breaks that contract, you either get pleasantly surprised or you get mad that you spent money on something that wasn't what it claimed to be. (Ask Laura about the pink-covered book with the dead body and the old lady brothel.)


Then we got into the categories publishers actually use, and where they fall apart.


The spectrum (as we see it)

  • Commercial fiction: plot-driven, most genre fiction lives here
  • Upmarket fiction: character development plus plot, things like Remarkably Bright Creatures or The Most Fun We Ever Had
  • Literary fiction: character, theme, and writing style above all else. Ann Patchett territory. Not Gone Girl.

The ongoing arguments

  • Is Gone Girl literary fiction? Katya says yes, or at least literary thriller. Laura says no, and also that it's garbage. Michelle loved it. We will not be resolving this today.
  • Where the Crawdads Sing: Michelle loved the book and the movie, Katya defends the nature writing, Laura has tried to block it entirely from her memory.
  • "Book club fiction" is not a genre. It's a vibe. It means the book will generate discussion, which honestly any book can do, including Fifty Shades of Grey.
  • "Women's fiction" is a marketing category, not a genre. There is no men's fiction because all fiction is already presumed to be for men. We noticed.

Which genres survive adaptation

Romance and thrillers tend to translate well to screen. Literary fiction is a harder lift because so much of it lives inside a character's head, and you need a really strong performance to carry that. We also got into Reese Witherspoon's book club being less of a book club and more of an adaptation pipeline, Harlan Coben's massive Netflix deal, and why People We Meet on Vacation would have worked better as a series than a movie.


Coming up in this series

Over the next few episodes, we're going deeper on individual genres: domestic thrillers, unreliable narrators, literary fiction, classics, retellings (yes, Bridget Jones's Diary and Clueless count), and romance. We'll decide once and for all what makes a genre, whether those labels hold up, and what the hell to do with the "next Gone Girl" marketing.


Final verdict this week: read what you want to read. If the story sounds good, pick it up. But maybe read the blurb first.


Listen to the full episode wherever you get your podcasts. Find all our links at linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.


Remarkably Bright Creatures: Book vs Movie


On paper, a book about an elderly widow befriending an octopus sounds like two different books stapled together. In practice, it makes you cry for an hour. Shelby Van Pelt somehow makes it work, and this week we read the 2022 bestseller and then watched the Netflix adaptation starring Sally Field, which dropped May 8th. What started as a book discussion turned into a full argument about an octopus, and we are not done having it.


The Marcellus debate is exactly what it sounds like. Is he essential to the story, or is he a very emotionally useful plot device that we could technically live without? We did not reach consensus. We came in with strong opinions, we left with strong opinions, and we invite you to come pick a side.


We also couldn't agree on what kind of book this even is. A grief novel? A found-family story? A community story about lonely people finding each other? An emotional comfort read with a touch of weirdness? The answer is probably yes to all of it, which is part of why it works. The grief in this book doesn't perform. It doesn't give speeches. It just lives inside Tova the way it actually lives inside people, woven into the routines and the ordinary days, and that's what got us.


It got some of us more than others. This one hit close to home for reasons we talk about on the episode, and if you've ever read a book that landed differently because of where you were in life when you picked it up, you know exactly what we mean.


Cameron should not be a likable character. He runs entirely on bad decisions and what we generously called "chaotic van energy." We wanted to supervise him. We wanted to hand him a list of competent choices and wait. And yet we all cared about where he ended up, which is either great writing or proof that protective frustration is a valid emotional response.


On the adaptation: Sally Field is a national treasure and we will not be taking questions. Her performance holds this movie together. We all picked the book if forced to choose, but we mean it when we say the adaptation is genuinely good. If you're not a reader, watch the movie. It earns its runtime.


We loved the book. We loved the adaptation. When pressed to choose one, we voted unanimously for the book, with the sincere caveat that the movie is worth your time and Sally Field alone makes it worth watching.


Come listen, come pick a side on Marcellus, and find everything else at https://linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone

Book Recs: The Good Sources, The Bad Phrases, and Our Hot Takes


Where do you get your book recs? This week on Chapter One Scene One, we covered our favorites along with some hot takes. Spoiler: TikTok is overrated, "best of" lists are fake, and indie bookstore staff picks hit different than Barnes & Noble ones. And some of our most hated phrases in recs? "This book destroyed me" and "it broke my brain." But where do we actually find trusted sources?


We broke it down by category.


People You Know

  • Friends, family, coworkers, group chats

Online & Social

  • Podcasts
  • Substacks and book blogs
  • Social media (with a grain of salt)
  • Author newsletters

Websites & Apps

In Person


We also got into the phrases that make us want to immediately put a book down, whether early reader hype actually shapes how a book lands, and a round of books we'd always recommend versus ones we absolutely wouldn't.


Listen to the full episode wherever you get your podcasts. Find all our links at linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.

The Devil Wears Prada: The Movie Might Actually Be Better

 


This week on Chapter One, Scene One we covered The Devil Wears Prada and accidentally spent a large portion of the episode debating whether the movie has aged better than the book.

Laura came in already suspicious because she reread the book recently and did not think it held up particularly well. Michelle landed somewhere in the middle. Katya somehow became the most positive person in the room despite being the only one experiencing both versions for the first time.


The biggest surprise? The movie and book are trying to do very different things.


The book leans harder into Andy completely losing herself in the job while also somehow making everyone around her miserable. The movie softens some of those edges and turns Miranda Priestly into a far more complicated character. We also discussed how the adaptation quietly improved several relationships, expanded Nigel’s role, and somehow made workplace burnout feel just as relevant in 2026 as it did in 2006.


Also: nobody remembered how much smoking is in the book.


We talked about why Meryl Streep’s performance still works twenty years later, whether Andy’s friends were actually supportive, and why the movie’s version of ambition feels more modern than the book’s.


And yes, we answered the important question:
Team Miranda, Team Andy, or Team Nigel?


Listen now at chapteronesceneone.com.

Spoilers, TikTok, and the Rules Nobody Agrees On

This week on Chapter One, Scene One we talked about spoilers. Not just are spoilers bad, but what actually counts as one anymore, and does knowing the ending actually ruin anything?


We answered the first question in about four seconds. Laura and Katya said no. Michelle said yes. The next twenty minutes were more complicated.


Nobody agrees on where the line is. Michelle thinks spoilers change the experience, full stop. The whole point of a story is watching it build the way the author intended, and knowing the ending before you get there takes something away. Laura's take is that it changes the experience without ruining it. She compared it to candles. Same thing, different scent. Katya lands somewhere in the middle, spoiling herself about half the time depending on the book.


There's also the question of what even counts. Tropes are not spoilers. Saying a romance has a love triangle does not ruin anything. Knowing there's a twist in a thriller barely qualifies at this point because that's just the genre. Laura made the point that thrillers are actually where spoilers carry the most weight, because the twist is often the whole point. A character-driven book is a different situation. Knowing where it lands matters a lot less when the journey is the story.


Classics are exempt. The book has been out 250 years. You don't get to be upset about Jane Austen. The looser consensus on newer books landed around ten years, which means Harry Potter is fair game.


Social media is its own mess. Laura mutes words on TikTok and reported it does not work. She still gets TikTok Shop ads constantly. But even Michelle, who genuinely hates spoilers, thinks people online are too sensitive about it. Her point was that going on Goodreads or watching BookTok videos about a book you're actively reading is a choice. You are walking into a space where spoilers live. The outrage doesn't match the decision.


The episode ended with a lightning round. One spoiler that actually shocked you: Laura picked My Husband's Wife by Alice Feeney, a twist within a twist within a twist. Katya went with Lock Every Door by Riley Sager, which she'd half-spoiled for herself and was still caught off guard by. One spoiler that didn't matter: Laura said basically all of them, since she reads the books before watching the adaptations anyway. Katya guessed the ending of a thriller in the first couple of pages, checked, confirmed she was right, and called both the spoiler and the book meh.


So where does that leave the actual question? Probably where it started. Some stories are about what happens. Others are about how it happens. Which camp you fall into says more about what you want from reading than it does about the story.


Full episode wherever you get your podcasts or at linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.

The Better Sister: Did the Show Fix What the Book Couldn't?


Two estranged sisters. A dead husband they both have history with. A teenage boy who may or may not have killed him. The Better Sister by Alafair Burke is a psychological thriller about what women hide to survive and how far they'll go to protect the people they love. The Prime Video adaptation dropped in May 2025 with Jessica Biel and Elizabeth Banks, and we had a lot of thoughts, not all of them the same.


The book is mostly Chloe's perspective. She's a New York magazine editor with a controlled exterior and a life that looks perfect until her husband turns up dead. There are a handful of chapters from the detective on the case, but you're mostly in Chloe's head, working with whatever she decides to tell you. It also means you never really get Nikki, the older sister, the one in recovery, the one who shows up and ignores the hotel Chloe already booked and just starts putting her stuff down. Nikki is who all three of us actually liked, which is a problem because the book barely gives her room to be anything other than Chloe's version of her.


The Show


The show fixes that. Getting out of Chloe's head is the biggest structural change, and it pays off. There's a backstory reveal about what Adam actually did to Nikki that the book implies but the show puts on screen. Michelle said it made her feel gutted for Nikki in a way the book never got to.


What wasn't unanimous: Elizabeth Banks. Laura could not buy her as someone who had struggled with addiction. "She's too good at all of life." Michelle thought she nailed it.


The show adds a full storyline for Nikki that isn't in the book, and we disagreed on whether it worked. Katya defended it. Michelle and Laura weren't sold. The show also has characters literally seeing and talking to people who are dead. Katya and Laura found it unnecessary. Michelle thought it was the only way to show how haunted Nikki actually was. And Laura got bored somewhere in episodes four through six, which with eight episodes is a problem.


Book vs. Show


Two votes for the show, one for the book, and the book vote made a real argument. The mystery hits differently when you're stuck in Chloe's head and can't fully trust what she's telling you. The show gives you more. Whether more is better depends on what you wanted.


Ratings landed between three and four and a half. Laura described it as possibly a good nap show and we're choosing to take that as a compliment to the pacing.


Full episode, spoilers and all, wherever you get your podcasts or at linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone.

Do You Finish a Series If It Goes Bad?


This week's Reader Habits mini episode asked a question every book lover has faced: if a series starts to lose you, do you push through or cut your losses?


What "going bad" actually means to us

  • A series that turns repetitive
  • Page counts that keep creeping up with each installment
  • When too much time passes between books


The sunk cost trap If you own all six books and book seven is getting bad reviews, do you read it anyway? Michelle says yes, you're already in. Laura says it depends, mostly because she owns series she hasn't started yet, which creates its own problem. The practical takeaway: don't let BookTok pressure you into buying a full series before you've read book one. Buy it. Read it. Then decide.


When a bad adaptation kills the book for you Laura stopped reading Vampire Academy after the movie came out and never went back. She knows the author had nothing to do with it. The feeling stuck anyway. A bad adaptation can leave enough of a residue that the books stop feeling like yours.


Listen to the full episode Catch the Reader Habits mini episode wherever you get your podcasts and tell us: are you a completionist or a cutter? https://linktr.ee/chapteronesceneone


FAQ

Do you have to finish a series? No. There is no rule. If you're not enjoying it, stop.


What if you already bought all the books? You still don't have to finish. Goodwill takes books. You will also get 28 cents on Sell Your Books, apparently.


What's the easiest way to stay in a series long-term? Audio helps. Listening in the car lowers the friction on long books and keeps you moving between installments.