Although some say Literary Fiction might at times be dark or depressing, even too difficult to define, that it is not a genre on its own, it IS at the very least an impactful writing style that lends itself to other genres- to explore the many different facets of the human condition. Blending within other literary genres like added flavors combining to create a more superb recipe, fragments of literary fiction can melt inside historical fiction, fantasy, mystery, and other genres like butter in a cake batter that is at first bland or possibly even tasteless until the finishing ingredients are added.

Jessica Dukes says in her Celedon Books article the following; Character-driven stories, social and political themes, irreverence for storytelling norms- these elements set Literary Fiction apart. She adds that it is generally considered more “serious” than genre fiction. But, she continues, if one universal theme could be applied, it’s this: No-one has figured out the meaning of life, other than to acknowledge that there’s more than one way to live it.

Is not that what is so poignant and powerful about inspecting the humanness of life and adding that depth to the stories we create and devour, to understand our human strengths and our inevitable flaws as best as possible, to help us live our best lives?

In addition to standing majestically on its own, a sliver of literary fiction can ripple through literary genres like a skipped stone impacting a still water pond. The water, at first is calm and solid, predictable and steady, but when the stone is introduced, that same surface transforms into a more moving, metaphoric, and  magnificent kind of beauty -full of interest, exhilaration and life.  The ripples we set in motion extend in size, trajectory and depth just as the narrative we create can be greatly reshaped by the measures of literary fiction we inject.

Guest writer Sanjida O’Connell in Jane Friedman’s February 18, 2025 Publishing Reporting blog describes Literary Fiction this way:

First, for me, is that it should be Intellectual. A literary novel is about ideas

I think literary works have Depth

And last but not least is Style. I think we all expect a classic novel to be written in such beautiful prose it makes you want to weep, pause and stare at the sky or feel the words rolling through your mind like pebbles smoothed by the sea.

Some write and read to entertain, to memorialize an experience, to describe and learn about a current event, to explain or understand a piece of history, or to address or be introduced to a prominent individual. Others write and read ALSO to share or expand on an idea, to provoke, inspire or extract thought or emotion, to bring meaning to something about life or to better understand our purpose in it, to make sense of the big questions that have eluded us like seashells shoved further out to sea by the endless and powerful undercurrent, perpetually outside our grasp…yet always there.

Similarly, within our stories of fiction, whether historical, mystery, suspense, science fiction, romance, dystopian YA, or anything else, regardless of the reason we write or read, there is always an undercurrent of thematic importance present.  It may be as simple as rain or as complicated as the Riemann hypothesis, but every worthwhile story in my opinion is derived from a work of literary genius that inspects, depicts, magnifies or questions the human condition at some level. Whether the story evolves from a basic plot line or a serious question, it mirrors who we were, who we are and who we might become. And therefore, even if fleeting and although not always clearly evident, there could be to some degree, a bit of literary fiction in every narrative.

Editor, MICHAEL WOODSON In his March 2023 Writer’s Digest article; What is Literary Fiction?, provides this definition of Literary Fiction;

In my experience, contemporary literary fiction is a creative and unique writing style coming from a truly diverse range of writers where all the rules get to be broken. Literary fiction can be any genre and should be for the masses, because at the heart of every work of literary fiction is the human experience.

….Literary fiction is often slower in its pacing and welcomes readers to take their time in the process; to dawdle in the details. It’s often observational, conflicts arising from the internal, with some aspects of the story still left open in the final pages.

The human condition is the foundation upon which all thoughts and actions are forged. The music we listen to, the artwork we admire, the movies we watch, and the books we read all parallel, depict, tell about, question or come from some feature of the human condition. The plot-line holding up the story within commercial fiction is only as sturdy as the internal humanness tagging along beside it, like a supportive fan feeding momentum to the scaffolding design.  Essentially, literary fiction acts as a story’s synergist, ensemble and champion, adding universal connection, contemplation and clarity to emotionally heighten or elevate ANY story.

The following snippets of Literary Fiction reflect how its ripples of human interconnectedness can add to ANY of our narratives and subsequently to our minds, our hearts, our souls and ultimately to our lives:

In Sean Dietrich’s Kinfolk:   But then, life was full of overlooked miracles. And miracles never happen the way you expect them to. They are softer than a baby’s breath. They are, at times, as noticeable as a ladybug. A miracle is not a big thing. A miracle is millions and millions of small things working together. But then, this didn’t matter. Not really. Because Minnie had come to believe that life was not about finding miracles, or happiness, or success, or purpose, nor was it about avoiding disappointment. It was about finding people. People are what makes life worth it. People are the buried treasure. People who understand you. People who will bleed with you. People who make your life richer. Your people. Your kinfolk.

In Hello Beautiful by Ann Napolitano:

 William turned toward her and found himself looking directly into Sylvie’s eyes. He had the strange sense she was looking inside him, to the truth of him. He hadn’t known this was possible. When Julia gazed at William, she was trying to see the man she wanted him to be. She couldn’t see, or didn’t want to see, who he actually was.

” ( And on page 101) William didn’t understand what had happened to him and his sister-in-law on the bench that night but it felt dangerous, like a shining dagger that could cut through his life as if it were made of paper.

Also in Hello Beautiful:

We’re part of the sky, and the rocks in your mother’s garden, and that old man who sleeps by the train station. We’re all interconnected, and when you see that, you see how beautiful life is. Your mother and sisters don’t have that awareness. Not yet, anyway. They believe they’re contained in their bodies, in the biographical facts of their lives

From The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell by Robert Dugoni:

 Our skin, our hair, and our eyes are simply the shell that surrounds our soul, and our soul is who we are. What counts is on the inside.

From The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Dare:

My mama say education will give me a voice. I want more than just a voice, Ms. Tia. I want a louding voice,” I say. “I want to enter a room and people will hear me even before I open my mouth to be speaking. I want to live in this life and help many people so that when I grow old and die, I will still be living through the people I am helping.

 Also from The Girl with the Louding Voice:

 I want to tell her that God is not a cement building of stones and sand. That God is not for all that putting inside a house and locking Him there. I want her to know that the only way to know if a person finds God and keeps Him in their heart is to check how the person is treating other people, if he treats people like Jesus says–with love, patience, kindness, and forgiveness.

From Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston

It is so easy to be hopeful in the daytime when you can see the things you wish on. But it was night, it stayed night. Night was striding across nothingness with the whole round world in his hands . . . They sat in company with the others in other shanties, their eyes straining against cruel walls and their souls asking if He meant to measure their puny might against His. They seemed to be staring at the dark, but their eyes were watching God.

From The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini

I wondered if that was how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.

From John Boyne’s, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

What exactly was the difference? He wondered to himself. And who decided which people wore the striped pajamas and which people wore the uniforms?

From Kristin Hannah’s, Winter Garden

 They would always be a family, but if she’d learned anything in the past few weeks it was that a family wasn’t a static thing. There were always changes going on. Like with continents, sometimes the changes were invisible and underground, and sometimes they were explosive and deadly. The trick was to keep your balance. You couldn’t control the direction of your family any more than you could stop the continental shelf from breaking apart. All you could do was hold on for the ride.

From Kelly Rimmer’s , The Things We Cannot Say

Life has a way of shattering our expectations, of leaving our hopes in pieces without explanation. But when there’s love in a family, the fragments left behind from our shattered dreams can always be pulled together again, even if the end result is a mosaic.

And finally in Susan Meissner’s older 2005 novel; A Window to the World, a story built around a simple plotline that would not necessarily be considered “Literary Fiction”, there is a passage that provides an example of how some degree of literary fiction exists in any good story, regardless whether the tale is character or plot driven; David was quiet as Megan slowly began to grasp how Jen’s disappearance had shaped her, how something twisted and wrong had nevertheless been used by God for better purposes, how the people she had met after abduction had influenced her, how there had been beauty after and within the misery.  She suddenly thought of the canyon, which like so many things was nothing but a memory. She remembered how wild and scary it was and yet how stunning and majestic….. “ You think your past is something to be buried and forgotten but it isn’t, David said gently “ Your past, all of it- the good and the bad- is what God used to make you, you.”

Although some of these passages are taken from clearly identifiable literary fiction,  others share living space within the seemingly confined walls of historical fiction or other genres, where  the lines of separation between plot- driven and character- driven genres can blur, become more forgiving and less restrictive.  Each genre’s gate can be opened to allow fragments of literary fiction to run rampant though-out any composition, not to cause destruction or harm to the story’s carefully constructed foundation, but to enhance and strengthen it.

Julia Alvarez, in her post script at the end of In the Time of Butterflies”,  considered to be historical fiction, says A novel is not, after all, a historical document, but a way to travel through the human heart.  She later added to this in her 2019 updated Author’s Note: Stories operate in such indirect and invisible ways that often we come out of a story or poem that has moved us as a different person than before we started reading. Novels are not polemical arguments, mobilizing people with ideology and propaganda. Instead they work one imagination at a time, rooting conviction in the heart, stirring us deeply and thereby bringing about a more profound and lasting transformation. The muscles of compassion we exercise as readers are, after all, the same ones that motivate us to change the world.

And so, Literary Fiction to me is not too dark or depressing or difficult to define. It does not need to be an island all by itself; isolated and alone, restricted to its own solitary lane within literature. Rather, Literary Fiction and its corresponding introspective examination of our humanness have earned a place within all genres wherever and whenever there is a profound or transformative message or idea to convey, share or question. Like each musical score in a grand classical composition, performed by 50 separate instruments, each one majestic by itself but spectacular when blended together to culminate in one elaborate and powerful symphonic masterpiece that stirs, lifts or transforms us, the literary fiction experience is about so much more than it is  by itself.

Literary Fiction is about more than the score paper upon which the notes are written, or the recipe card we set up and follow, or the temporary ripples in a pond. It is about the way its contemplative and omniscient message becomes the catalyst to awaken, impact and incentivize us, and how that experience continues to stir and transform us- that adds real depth and interest to what we create….. what we write, what we read and ultimately how we live.\

To note: This was completely created artistically by the author without any AI help