(originally posted: September 8, 2004)

What makes genre a secondary, lowly cousin in the literary world?

In this blog I will explore, define, and analyze this notion. I will also attempt to reevaluate its validity for our contemporary literary world.

At one point -- or better yet, at various multiple points historically, whether we consider the pivotal eighteenth and nineteenth centuries or as recently as the early 20th century -- mystery, science fiction, fantasy, romance, western, and horror-themed written works have acquired a justified stigma of being lower forms of written fiction.

They emerged as a vulgar morass of penny-dreadfuls, pulps, heart-pounding gothics, action adventure yarns, cliff-hanger serials, bodice rippers, and comics that appealed to the coarser human emotions, an unsophisticated under-educated mentality, and could by no means be considered contributions to the world's body of literature.

In a nutshell, the works of each and every flavor of genre were poorly written, one-dimensional "plot-only" story yarns. They were full of naiveté, melodrama, bursting with clichés, had almost no character development, no higher thematic meaning, and left nothing for the mind to digest. The focus of such genre works was usually a single form of emotional entertainment -- fear, excitement, puzzle-solving curiosity, puerile lust, pseudo-historical costume drama, and simple comedy.

They engaged the audience only for the duration of the work, and often the audience was young, at different extremes of the naïve-to-streetwise spectrum, and looking for uncomplicated, immature excitement, an easy escape.

Genre was for the masses, for the un-intellectual, for the ordinary.

Genre contained no full-bodied psychological balance.

Genre had no value.

And now, fly forward in a multi-century, multi-decade leap.

In 2003, in an unprecedented act of literary and cultural foresight and clarity, Stephen King was the controversial recipient of the National book Award, followed by Judy Blume in 2004.

What changed?