The “Cozy” classification name alone is enough to make my blood pressure decrease and my breathing slow, to make me squirm a little and try to make my chair yet more comfortable.
There’s a large sense of the term, in which “cozy” defines an entire genre or set of genres (Cozy Romances, Cozy Mysteries). But there’s also a sense in which the Cozy “vibe” is also a subset of a broader set of works, most of which seem (to me) to be embodied in the Indie crowd. I’m not surprised any more when it turns up in hard Science Fiction, in long-term-alien world-building, in almost every formal profession (even if it’s a small percentage of those works).
So…a serious question for the hive mind. What defines a large-form Cozy? Or Cozy elements in larger stories? Where does this come from as a “type”? What makes it work (effect)? How does it work (method)? Limitations? Do you like Cozy elements, seek them out?
What’s the timeline (key publications in the start of it)? This seems to me to be a (relatively) “new” thing, not (for example) a reincarnation of low-key pre-war British mystery authors. It seems to me that it started gaining ground with small-town mysteries after the “classic” period, where the mise-en-scene was more important than the nominal mystery, followed by some “small-town” vampire/werewolf, etc., SFF (think how odd that would have seemed 40 years ago, in the old magazines), and even horror genres (looking at you, Dean R Koontz). More broadly, it manifests in a focusing on the private relationships of various professionals in their work places. But maybe your experience/view is different.
And for those who like to write them, how does writing Cozy stories differ (for you) from “straight” versions of the larger genres? Can a hard-boiled detective slow down and smell the cinnamon buns?
Mad Genius Club 
11 responses to “Cozies… what defines them?”
Hard boiled cozy would be the most schizophrenic thing evah. It would be a grand read. Or Noir cozy.
There are “cat detectives in cozy noir settings”. Really. Vampires, too.
There is a private detective I follow on Twitter. Definitely a modern noir type. But the thing that strikes me is how very rare actual violence is, when compared to the movies.
I suspect if someone were to digest a realistic sort of case load a PI does, it could be written as a cozy. Because so much of it is domestic affairs, or figuring out what someone’s idiot kid has gotten into. There was one case where the kid had gotten mixed up with a drug dealer, and he basically negotiated a truce between some of the gang leaders to cut the kid off.
It reminds me a little of Rumpole of the Bailey.
I came across a postapocalyptic cozy murder mystery a while back. It was a first time effort on the part of the author and was available on KU, but I cannot remember the title or other info. Focus was on relationships in a small settlement and day-to-day life off the grid, and there was not much in the way of suspense. The plot resolution was very weak, I thought, but the overall idea intrigued me. (The killer just moved on from the settlement and left a letter for the main character/investigator.)
From what you’re describing (and I could be getting the wrong impression) that sounds less like a cozy mystery and more like, “I want to write a slice-of-life novel, but I don’t think it will sell, so I’ll throw a murder on top and try to market it as a mystery.” I ran into a number of stories like that back when I lived close to the library and would just try out random books on the shelves: it’s nominally a murder mystery, but it’s clear that neither the author nor the characters actually care who did it or why. On the rare occasions when I made it to the end, the resolution was usually a lot like what you have here: the murder randomly confesses to the main character, so that there’s some sort of resolution, and then the main character moves on as if none of this ever happened.
I think there is generally a vibe of care-and-nurturing in a cozy, and how that works is more important than the nominal “story”. We like the one, but as readers we disapprove of the other, or at least are frustrated by it.
That’s exactly what it was like. You described it better than I did.
In long form, the people and the setting tend to be … small and local? No grand political figures, no enormous national crises, just everyday people (fantasy, sci fi, or otherwise) dealing with life. Problems might be large to them, but not to the rest of civilization, and the stakes are not life-and-death. Any violence is minor, off-stage, or in the past. Cosy means scaling back, and has to have a satisfying conclusion that leaves things better for the good people, and the less-than-good receive justice, even if it is “just” a good scolding by a matriarch.
Jan Karon’s first five Mitford novels are like that, centering on a mature Episcopal priest in a small town on the edge of the mountains of North Carolina. The one big bad is a local bad, and wants undue honor and power rather than control of the world.
Riffing off of that… Cozy is a reinforcement of the worth of “good” behavior, in the here-and-now, something like a small-R religious POV. The reader is reassured by the demonstrated availability of support and healing by the work of everyday people, in the face of problems of a scale small enough to be surmounted (at least with help), but large enough to be harmful if ignored.
To some degree, I leave a Cozy with a sense of “this is how life ought to be, properly lived by me (and hopefully others). The “type” of protagonists (people, werewolves, aliens, children) and oppositional elements are less important than the stakes, freely chosen, that are defended.
These are the satisfactions of small-H heroes. The band-of-brothers in support naturally begins with the nearest (friends/family), contingent (strangers/bystanders), environmental (neighbors, defense), and when the crisis is over, dissolves back into its constitutional elements (or perhaps progresses to personal or professional change), reinforcing the moral standards of the group.
One gets some of this in earlier (especially British or juvenile-classic) lowkey novels with small scales, but it seems to be a stronger presence these days.
Karen, you’re making me wonder if I’ve accidentally written a “cosy alien invasion romance” novel.
What I’m writing lately seems pretty cozy too, random humans dragged to Niflheim (Viking Hell) meeting up with people like Cerridwen the Wise and Mánagarmr the Wolf of the Moon, and then returning home relatively unscathed after some adventures. Unscathed because of lippy giant spiders of course, this is me we’re talking about. ~:D
Cosy isekai romance with guns? Backwards and upside-down Frankenstein Cosy with Norse goddess romance thread?
the graphic novel “Beneath the Trees Where Nobody Sees” attempts to do a mixture of a cozy, nostalgic storybook town of cute talking animals (think Stan & Jan Berenstain, Richard Scarry) and psychological horror thriller. Truly unsettling yet endearing at the same time. 😓🙂