Fantasy from A to Z: Z is for Zeitgeist

What is the future of fantasy literature? Where is the genre headed, based on current cultural trends?

For a long time, epic fantasy was basically Tolkien-light. There were exceptions, of course, but most readers wanted something that felt a lot like Lord of the Rings, and the most successful writers were the ones who gave it to them. There was a little bit of innovation, probably culminating in Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series, but if you picked up a random epic fantasy off the shelf, you could have a pretty good idea of what you were getting into.

Then, in the 90s and 00s, fantasy started to get dark and gritty, with writers like Joe Abercrombie and George R.R. Martin setting the tone. This new subgenre or flavor of fantasy, called grimdark, really came to dominate during this time, to the point where some were calling Martin an “American Tolkien” (though all that talk more or less died with the terrible finale of the show). Grimdark is still quite dominant, though an increasing number of readers are turning to “cozy” fantasy or slice-of-life in subgenres like litRPG. And of course, romantasy is taking off like crazy, though as we’ve already discussed, most romantasy is basically just porn.

So where are we going from here?

Our culture tends to pass through a cycle of seasonal turnings, where each season is the length of a generation, and the cycle itself is the length of a long human life. Reduced to its simplest form, the cycle follows a pattern like this:

Strong men create good times (first turning).

Good times create weak men (second turning).

Weak men create hard times (third turning).

Hard times create strong men (fourth turning).

We are currently living in a fourth turning, which is the period when all of the major wars and catastrophes tend to happen. In other words, the fourth turning is basically a grimdark world—or rather, when the full consequences of a grimdark world become manifest. But the grimdark subgenre really took off in the third turning, when dark and grim fantasy worlds resonated with the “hard times” that we all were starting to live through. This is also why dystopian YA became so popular in the 90s and 00s.

(As a side note, I have to say that I find it both perplexing and hilarious how so many zoomers think of the 90s as a simple and wholesome time, to the point where they think they experience nostalgia for it. Those of us who lived through the 90s remember it very differently, as an era of school shootings, political scandals, collapsing churches, teenage pregnancies, and ever-escalating culture wars. There’s a reason why Smells Like Teen Spirit was the decade’s anthem. Though in all fairness, I suppose that if someone from the middle ages were to visit our own time, they would find the nostalgic yearning on which the whole fantasy genre is based to be just as perplexing and hilarious.)

I believe we are on the cusp of a major cultural wave that is going to change everything, to the point of making our world almost unrecognizable to those who lived through the 90s and 00s. And just as the grimdark authors like Martin and Abercrombie rose to prominence by riding the wave in their part of the generational cycle, there are a lot of noblebright authors who stand to benefit from riding this next wave, which is only now beginning to break.

After all, there is another way to formulate the generational cycles. It looks something like this:

Complacent men create a spiritually dead culture (first turning).

A spiritually dead culture creates awakened men (second turning).

Awakened men create a spiritually vibrant culture (third turning).

A spiritually vibrant culture creates complacent men (fourth turning).

In the summer of 2024, I think we passed through a critical fork in the current timeline. If the generational cycle had followed its usual course, then our current crisis period would have ended with a period of unification under a new order, based upon the spiritual foundations that were laid during the 60s and 70s. In other words, the woke left would have won, and we’d be living under the sort of regime that would enforce woke values. Dissent would not be tolerated, because dissent is never tolerated in a first-turning world.

The second most likely outcome would have been a complete shattering of the generational cycles. In other words, we would have fallen into some sort of national divorce or hot civil war, with the United States splitting apart and the Western world completing its cultural suicide, which has been ongoing for several decades now. There has never been a time when such a major cultural rift has been accomplished by peaceful means. It is always accompanied by a terrible, bloody war.

But when President Trump survived the assassin’s bullet at the rally in Butler, Pennsylvania, that’s the point where I think our timeline diverged—and it followed the least likely path, which has only ever happened once in the history of modern generational cycles. We skipped from a fourth-turning straight into a second-turning, skipping straight from crisis to revival.

The last time this happened was with the US civil war. Usually, after a culture survives an existential crisis, you get a period of national unity, which often results in a brief golden age (or at least, an age that is remembered as such, often by those who did not live through it). But after the civil war, there was no national unity. Instead, we skipped right to the second turning, which is typically characterized by a major spiritual awakening.

Whatever your opinions of President Trump, the fact that he survived the assassination attempt in Pennsylvania and went on to win the 2024 election in a landslide means that we have (for the moment) avoided the first two scenarios. At this point, it’s difficult to imagine the woke left taking back the culture and leading us into a first-turning world in their own image. And though the US may yet fall into a hot civil war, from where I’m standing in flyover country that no longer seems quite so imminent.

Don’t get me wrong, though. We are not about to enter a period of national unity anytime soon. Certainly not a period of national unity whose foundations were laid by the previous spiritual awakening, which is what the generational cycle requires. At the same time, because President Trump survived the Butler assassination attempt (thank God), I think we avoided a hot civil war.

Because of all this, I think that we are about to experience a major cultural upheaval, the likes of which have never been seen in living memory. We will not get a period of unification. We will not experience a golden age period of material prosperity (though there may be a few years of plenty before the years of famine begin in earnest). But we will experience a cultural and spiritual revival that will burn through our culture until it has utterly demolished the woke worldview and values laid down during the 60s and 70s, and built something entirely new in its place.

What will that look like? And how will it affect the trajectory of fantasy literature?

Culturally, it will be a period of incredible dynamism. We will see an explosion of creative expression in every field, including in literature. Books and movies and games that are cultural mainstays now will be totally forgotten within a couple of decades, and everything that is popular now will feel dated and out of touch in the space of just a few years.

The authors and artists who will do the most to shape this new culture are today almost completely unknown, but they will become household names in surprisingly short order. Others will take decades to become known, but they will write their most important works in just the next few years.

The country will hold together. There will be no civil war, though there may be a global one. And there will almost certainly be an economic collapse, like the Great Depression, except much deeper and much longer. But all of this will only serve to fuel the spiritual revival, and the revival in turn will fuel the cultural dynamism, until the country and ultimately the world have been entirely transformed.

In more practical terms, I think we are going to see a lot of publishing houses fold, and a lot of popular authors fall out of favor. Many of them will keep their core group of fans, but they won’t be nearly as culturally relevant moving forward. New authors will rise from unexpected places to replace them, especially as the old institutions (publishers, conventions, magazines, review sites) collapse.

Romantasy will ultimately be recognized as the pornography that it is, though not until after it’s done great damage to the fantasy genre as a whole. The damage will be healed by a return to the genre’s spiritual roots. Grimdark will fade, and noblebright will rise, though it will ultimately take a different name and be recognized for other characteristics. It all depends on which of the thousand blooming flowers get picked.

LitRPG will mature into a long-term stable subgenre, and capture most of the innovation in the field. It may spin off into multiple long-term stable subgenres. Meanwhile, epic fantasy will return to its roots and grow as the spiritual revival takes hold. But instead of getting Tolkien clones, we’re going to see a lot of original and innovative work.

That’s the zeitgeist as I see it. The next few years are going to be a wild ride. Are you up for it? I hope that I am.

Fantasy from A to Z: X is for eXpectations

What sort of books are fantasy readers looking for today? What are the expectations that readers have for the genre?

Overall, the fantasy genre is growing. Sales are up, both in traditional and indie publishing, and the big names in the field (like Brandon Sanderson) are doing quite well. It’s clear that the fantasy genre as a whole is robust and healthy.

When you break it down by publishers and subgenres, however, things start to look a little different. Romantasy is dominating the traditional publishing world, but most of it is little more than pornography for women, dressed up with fantasy trappings. And because of how traditional publishing now relies on a few big blockbusters to make most of their earnings, romantasy is sucking all of the oxygen out of the room, making it much more difficult for debut and midlist authors in the other fantasy subgenres.

In the world of indie publishing, litRPG has begun to demonstrate some staying power. It was the new hot thing back in the early 2020s, but it’s attracted enough attention and developed enough of a following that it has become a major subgenre that is likely to endure for some time. I could be wrong about that, but from what I see, that’s where most of the innovative authors and whale readers (ie >1 book per week) are focusing their attention these days.

But because of the way that the algorithms tend to govern the indie publishing cycle (and the way that indie publishing has unfortunately turned into a zero-sum, pay-to-play game with online advertising), the rise of litRPG in the indie publishing world may very well be sucking all of the oxygen out of the room in the same way that romantasy is sucking it out of the traditional publishing world. 

Both subgenres are also very gender-biased, with women gravitating toward romantasy and men gravitating toward litRPG. This reflects the broader social and political trend of men and women going separate ways, across a whole host of different metrics. So as the gender divide continues to widen in society generally, that will probably reinforce the divide between romantasy and litRPG, creating a positive feedback loop (or death spiral, depending on how you look at it).

Sword and sorcery continues to do okay, and has probably been given a boost by the recent release of Conan the Barbarian into the public domain. But most of sword and sorcery got siphoned off into grimdark back in the 00s—in fact, you could say that sword and sorcery reinvented itself as grimdark. And while grimdark has resisted the feminization of literature, standing as one of the few remaining bastions where male readers continue to feel at home, I think grimdark has already passed its peak. In a post-pandemic, post-Trump world, I think most readers are hungry for books that are less nihilistic and more uplifting.

Which brings us to epic fantasy. While Brandon Sanderson continues to dominate this subgenre, with his massive kickstarters and huge book releases, it’s debatable whether his readers are hungry for more epic fantasy, or just for more Brandon Sanderson. He’s kind of a subgenre all to himself. Recent streaming adaptations like Wheel of Time and Rings of Power have failed miserably, and Game of Thrones has fallen almost totally out of cultural significance, with George R.R. Martin’s failure to finish the last book (and Patrick Rothfuss’s failure to finish his own series) becoming something of a meme.

In fact, the failure of these two big-name authors to finish writing their books may have struck epic fantasy a mortal wound. Because of how they have been burned, a large number of epic fantasy readers are now unwilling to commit to a series until after it is complete. But very few authors can afford to write a truly epic series and release the whole thing at once. It takes several years to write a series like that—and what are authors supposed to do if the first one flops? 

In other words, debut epic fantasy authors are damned if they do, and damned if they don’t. If they release the first book by itself, it will probably sink into obscurity before they can write and release the next book. And if by some measure of hard work and tenacity they manage to write a whole series and hold back from publishing until they’re ready to release it all at once, if the first book still fails to sell, they’re SOL and all that hard work was for nothing. 

This is also why traditional publishers are so unwilling to publish a new epic fantasy series from a debut or a midlist author. A bestseller like Larry Correia might be able to dip his feet in that pond (and do quite well—I highly recommend his Sons of the Black Sword series), they won’t do that for anyone else. Which is fine, except that indie publishing epic fantasy is just as hard—arguably more so.

For these reasons, I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Patrick Rothfuss and George R.R. Martin have done more to kill epic fantasy than they have to grow it.

But this may actually have created an opportunity for those authors who are willing to drive into the smoke. After all, there’s much less competition if you can manage to break in and build a decent following. But how much hunger is there for epic fantasy, compared to other fantasy subgenres? And how can a newer/midlist author reach them, without a big push from a publisher or the algorithms?

Epic Fantasy vs. LitRPG: 20 more principles that set them apart from other genres

So building on yesterday’s blog post, after asking ChatGPT to contrast litRPG against epic fantasy, I asked the AI to come up with twenty more principles that show how litRPG and epic fantasy are more similar to each other, by contrasting them against other genres. In other words, I asked for another twenty principles that either 1) hold true for both litRPG and epic fantasy, but not other genres, or 2) do not hold true for litRPG or epic fantasy, but do hold true for other genres. This was what the AI came up with.

What do you think? Do you agree with the list, or do you think the AI doesn’t know what it’s talking about? I mean, of course the AI doesn’t know what it’s talking about—it’s a pattern-matching stochastic parrot incapable of actual thought—but does the list itself hold true, or not? I’m interested to hear what you think!


✅ Ten Principles That Work in Both Epic Fantasy and LitRPG (but not as well elsewhere)

1. The Long Form Is an Asset

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers expect doorstoppers; sprawling stories add gravitas.
  • LitRPG: Readers binge long series to follow progression.
  • Other genres: Overly long novels (romance, thrillers) often feel padded or indulgent.

2. Worldbuilding as a Core Pleasure

  • Epic Fantasy: Intricate maps, languages, and histories enrich immersion.
  • LitRPG: Detailed mechanics, systems, and economies are part of the appeal.
  • Other genres: Too much worldbuilding bogs down the story (e.g., in mystery or romance).

3. Reader Dedication Is Assumed

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers accept investment to reap the mythic payoff.
  • LitRPG: Readers accept grindy arcs to enjoy progression.
  • Other genres: Casual readers often want quick satisfaction.

4. Hero’s Journey as Central Skeleton

  • Epic Fantasy: Growth from obscurity to legend is the core arc.
  • LitRPG: Growth from level 1 to overpowered is the core arc.
  • Other genres: Often resist the monomyth (slice-of-life, literary realism, etc.).

5. Community/Ensemble Casts

  • Epic Fantasy: Multiple POVs enrich the tapestry.
  • LitRPG: Party dynamics (tank, healer, mage) reflect RPG roots.
  • Other genres: Large casts risk confusing readers who want intimacy.

6. Spectacle as Payoff

  • Epic Fantasy: Climactic battles or magical revelations awe readers.
  • LitRPG: Dungeon raids and boss fights provide thrill.
  • Other genres: Spectacle without intimacy or brevity (like in romance) falls flat.

7. Maps and Charts Enhance the Experience

  • Epic Fantasy: Maps show kingdoms, trade routes, and lost ruins.
  • LitRPG: Stat sheets, skill trees, and quest logs scratch the gamer itch.
  • Other genres: Appendices and diagrams often feel extraneous.

8. Bingeability

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers want to sink in for weeks.
  • LitRPG: Readers tear through serialized arcs like binge-gaming sessions.
  • Other genres: Shorter, self-contained experiences dominate (rom-coms, thrillers).

9. Immersion Requires Internal Consistency

  • Epic Fantasy: Magic systems, politics, and cultures must feel internally real.
  • LitRPG: Mechanics and progression must follow consistent rules.
  • Other genres: Small cheats or contrivances are forgiven more easily.

10. The Fantasy of Escape Into Another Life

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers escape into a mythic, larger-than-life destiny.
  • LitRPG: Readers escape into a game avatar, empowered and free.
  • Other genres: Escapism is more muted—characters often mirror real-world constraints.

❌ Ten Principles That Work in Other Genres But Not in Epic Fantasy or LitRPG

11. Economy of Length

  • Epic Fantasy: Truncated stories feel shallow.
  • LitRPG: Short books cut off progression.
  • Other genres: Brevity (novellas, short novels) often thrives in romance, literary fiction, thrillers.

12. Standalone Closure

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers expect series and arcs across volumes.
  • LitRPG: Readers expect sequels and continuous leveling.
  • Other genres: Standalone novels dominate many markets (romance, crime).

13. Minimal World Detail

  • Epic Fantasy: Sparse settings break immersion.
  • LitRPG: Thin systems or game mechanics disappoint.
  • Other genres: Often better to focus tightly on character or conflict.

14. Immediate, High-Speed Pacing

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers accept gradual build-up.
  • LitRPG: Readers accept grind loops before climax.
  • Other genres: Quick, relentless pacing (thrillers) is a selling point.

15. Subtlety Over Spectacle

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers want grandeur, not quiet minimalism.
  • LitRPG: Readers want flashy abilities, loot drops, boss fights.
  • Other genres: Subtle slice-of-life or understated literary fiction works well.

16. Ambiguous Endings

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers want resolution—wars won, empires reshaped.
  • LitRPG: Readers want progression arcs to complete.
  • Other genres: Literary realism thrives on ambiguity.

17. Everyday Banality

  • Epic Fantasy: Mundane routine (work, school, dishes) feels like filler.
  • LitRPG: Grinding without purpose or progress feels like padding.
  • Other genres: Slice-of-life, contemporary drama thrive on the ordinary.

18. Romance as the Core Engine

  • Epic Fantasy: Love enriches but rarely drives the whole tapestry.
  • LitRPG: Love plots are secondary to leveling and quests.
  • Other genres: Romance is often the primary driver.

19. Prose Minimalism

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers want at least some richness, tone, and weight.
  • LitRPG: Readers want clarity and detail in mechanics, not Hemingway sparsity.
  • Other genres: Minimalist prose shines in lit fic or thrillers.

20. Compressed Timelines

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers want generations, years, or at least a long journey.
  • LitRPG: Readers want long campaigns and layered arcs.
  • Other genres: Stories that span a weekend or a single evening work beautifully in mystery, romance, lit fic.

⚖️ Big Takeaway

  • Shared Strengths (1–10): Both genres embrace immersion, scope, detail, and reader investment. They reward readers who want to live in another world for a long time.
  • Shared Weaknesses (11–20): Neither does well with brevity, minimalism, ambiguity, or everyday mundanity. Those principles thrive in other fiction but undermine the immersive, long-game experience of epic fantasy and LitRPG.

Epic Fantasy vs. LitRPG: 20 principles that work in one but not the other

So I was doing some genre research using ChatGPT, comparing epic fantasy (which I write) to litRPG (which I do not write—at least, not yet). After going back and forth for a while, I had ChatGPT list a bunch of principles that set each subgenre apart from each other. In other words, each of these principles holds true only for the one subgenre and not for the other.

It’s an interesting list. But being AI-generated, I’m not sure how much I can trust it, so I’d be interested to get your feedback. How true do you think these principles holds? Is it a pretty solid list, or are any areas where the AI got it wrong?


✅ Works in Epic Fantasy but Not LitRPG

1. Slow, Majestic Pacing

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers savor patience, waiting hundreds of pages for payoffs.
  • LitRPG: Readers expect regular “level-ups” or stat reveals—slow burns feel like stalling.

2. World as a Living, Breathing Character

  • Epic Fantasy: Setting is alive, with cultures, histories, and myth shaping events.
  • LitRPG: Worlds are often coded, constructed systems; too much “world-agency” risks breaking the conceit of “game mechanics.”

3. Archetypal Myth and Destiny

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers love prophecy, ancient bloodlines, and cosmic fate.
  • LitRPG: Players expect agency and control; prophecy undercuts the appeal of player choice.

4. Elevated, Poetic Language

  • Epic Fantasy: Slightly archaic or grand prose enhances the mythic atmosphere.
  • LitRPG: Readers expect clear, modern, accessible prose—too much ornament feels like “lag.”

5. Moral and Philosophical Depth

  • Epic Fantasy: Readers enjoy wrestling with justice, faith, and power.
  • LitRPG: Too much moral philosophizing slows down what should feel like gameplay and strategy.

6. Earned Heroism Through Suffering

  • Epic Fantasy: Heroes rise through sacrifice, scars, and loss.
  • LitRPG: Heroes rise by optimizing builds and winning battles. Too much suffering without progression feels like poor game balance.

7. History as Weight

  • Epic Fantasy: Ancient wars, dynasties, ruins, and forgotten myths enrich immersion.
  • LitRPG: History matters less than mechanics; world “backstory” is often secondary to the system’s function.

8. Layered Political Intrigue

  • Epic Fantasy: Kingdoms, councils, conspiracies—slow, strategic plotting excites readers.
  • LitRPG: Readers may skip political detail to get back to quests, loot, or progression.

9. Villains as Ideologies

  • Epic Fantasy: Antagonists often embody philosophies or cosmic balances.
  • LitRPG: Readers want enemies to be challenges, bosses, or rival players—not treatises on ideology.

10. The Reader Must Feel Small

  • Epic Fantasy: The awe of mountains, empires, or gods dwarfs the individual.
  • LitRPG: Readers want to feel powerful, not humbled—progression fantasy is about growth and mastery.

✅ Works in LitRPG but Not Epic Fantasy

11. Constant Tangible Progress

  • LitRPG: Frequent “dings,” new skills, and stat boosts scratch the gamer itch.
  • Epic Fantasy: Constant visible gains feel artificial—growth should be slow, hard-won, and often invisible.

12. Game-Like Structure

  • LitRPG: Clear quests, dungeons, XP, and loot tables create satisfying loops.
  • Epic Fantasy: Too much structure breaks the illusion of a living world—life doesn’t hand out quests so neatly.

13. Crunchy Mechanics

  • LitRPG: Readers relish stat blocks, skill trees, and optimization discussions.
  • Epic Fantasy: Overly mechanical explanations kill immersion—magic should feel mysterious, not like a spreadsheet.

14. Frequent Combat Encounters

  • LitRPG: Battles are core gameplay; readers expect frequent fights.
  • Epic Fantasy: Endless combat risks exhausting readers who want battles to feel rare, costly, and decisive.

15. Player Agency Above All

  • LitRPG: The protagonist must feel like a player making choices.
  • Epic Fantasy: Fate, prophecy, or the “burden of destiny” often guide characters beyond their control.

16. Meta Awareness

  • LitRPG: Characters can reference game mechanics, genre tropes, or player logic.
  • Epic Fantasy: Meta jokes break immersion—characters can’t wink at the audience about being in a story.

17. Loot and Rewards as Story Fuel

  • LitRPG: New gear and loot drops are story progression.
  • Epic Fantasy: Magical swords and treasures matter, but they’re rare, symbolic, and usually secondary to inner growth.

18. Episodic, “Grindable” Arcs

  • LitRPG: Dungeon runs, quests, and side missions can be modular and satisfying.
  • Epic Fantasy: Too episodic undermines the long-arc gravitas; the story must feel like a single tapestry.

19. Power Fantasy at the Forefront

  • LitRPG: Readers want to imagine themselves growing invincible.
  • Epic Fantasy: Too much power fantasy feels hollow—readers want awe and cost, not invincibility.

20. Immersion Through Familiar Systems

  • LitRPG: RPG tropes are comforting—readers enjoy seeing familiar mechanics at play.
  • Epic Fantasy: Familiar mechanics feel derivative—immersion comes from originality, history, and myth.

⚖️ The Big Picture

  • Epic Fantasy: Offers immersion in a mythic, awe-inspiring legend, with patience, gravitas, and weight. It humbles and uplifts.
  • LitRPG: Offers immersion in a game you can read, with momentum, mechanics, and constant progression. It empowers and energizes.

They share world immersion as a value—but diverge in what kind of immersion the audience craves: awe vs. agency, myth vs. mechanics, destiny vs. progress.

Fantasy from A to Z: F is for Female

We live in a time of deepening division—not just between political parties or social classes, but between the sexes as well. Of course, men and women have always been different, but those differences have grown increasingly stark in recent years, even as it becomes more politically incorrect to say so.

Across the Western world, men are drifting one way, women another. In politics, men are turning more conservative, while women—especially young, unmarried women—are growing more liberal. We can see this gap not only in US voting patterns, but in voting patterns across the world. In matters of faith, men are turning toward traditional, even ancient forms of religious expression: high liturgy, orthodoxy, duty, and structure. Meanwhile, women are leaving organized religion altogether in record numbers. Some are embracing a kind of therapeutic spirituality—mindfulness, astrology, crystals—but many are simply checking out.

It’s not hard to see this growing rift playing out in other areas of life: marriage, dating, education, employment. But it’s also playing out in fantasy literature, not just among readers, but also among writers and publishers.

Instead of sharing a common ground, men and women are building parallel worlds. Many male readers are flocking to grimdark, with its blood-soaked realism and morally gray protagonists, or to litRPG, which merges game mechanics with fantasy worldbuilding in a system-focused power fantasy. Meanwhile, women are turning increasingly to romantasy, a subgenre that often verges on outright pornography and has virtually no appeal to men.

A lot of this is downstream from the gender divide in publishing. Traditional publishing—especially in the U.S.—has become overwhelmingly female, especially in the editorial departments. Some of that is demographic; some of it is cultural. But the result is that the gatekeepers of traditional fantasy publishing are mostly women. Their tastes, sensibilities, and values shape what gets acquired, marketed, and celebrated.

This divide wouldn’t be so troubling if it were merely about preferences or taste. But it runs deeper than that. Increasingly it seems that men and women no longer understand each other—or worse, no longer even try to. And when even our fiction reflects that fracture, it becomes that much harder to bridge the growing divide.

That’s what makes the current state of fantasy so toxic. Not because romantasy or grimdark are inherently bad—every subgenre has its place—but because they have become echo chambers that silo the sexes off from each other.

Men and women were not made to live in separate worlds. We need each other—not just to perpetuate the species, but to challenge, balance, and refine one another. I know this from personal experience. Without my wife, I’d be a lesser man. She often drives me crazy (to be fair, I return the favor), but we have each grown so much since marrying each other that I think I would hardly recognize the man I once was. Together, we are far more than the sum of our two parts.

Our stories should reflect that truth. We don’t need more genre ghettos. We need shared myths. Stories where masculine and feminine virtues don’t clash with each other, but come together in harmony.

That’s what I’m hoping to accomplish with my epic fantasy series, The Soulbound King. When building out the fantasy world, I deliberately designed the magic system so that latent magical powers can only be unlocked through marriage—the “soulbond”—between a man and a woman. I did that largely in response to the growing gender divide, because I wanted to write a story that shows how men and women can overcome it. Hopefully it works.

Fantasy, perhaps more than any other genre, gives us the space to reimagine what’s possible. It allows us to explore not just what the world is, but what it could be. And right now, what the world needs is for the young men and women of the rising generation to come together and reinvent the world.