I used to be a fantasy reader. Tolkien, Gemmell, Sanderson, I read all the big names. Somewhere along the line, fantasy stopped doing it for me. That’s when I became a science fiction reader. I’d always read bits and pieces of SF. Asimov, Campbell, and more Star Wars novels than most people know exist. But in 2018 I dedicated my reading time to science fiction, started this here blog, and haven’t looked back.

There are two things that haven’t changed, however. The first is the books that I hear about. Pretty much everyone who talks about science fiction also talks about fantasy. The reverse is not true, and I hear a lot more about fantasy than I do science fiction. The second constant is the part of the bookshop that I spend time in. Since time immemorial, science fiction and fantasy have been shelved together. Most major bookshops will have an SFF section, and even charity shops often give these genres their own little corner. This partnership extends even into the awards scene. The Hugo Awards, given out at the World Science Fiction Convention (aka WorldCon), are largely awarded to science fiction novels, but plenty of fantasy works have won over the years.

As you might be able to tell from the fact that I run an exclusively science fiction blog, I’m not entirely content with this state of affairs. I can’t help but think it’s time we draw a line between the two halves of SFF. Why? Because I think the two genres are doing different things, and for different audiences.

There is an argument to be made that all science fiction is fantasy. What is a hyperdrive if not a magic carpet, after all? I see the logic of these arguments, and I reject it. Because if you look at most fantasy, it is very clearly not science fiction. Even Terry Brooks’ Shannara novels, which take place in our future, and include killer war machines, are clearly telling stories through a fantasy lens. Yes, Warhammer 40,000 is unashamedly a science fantasy setting, but the fact that we have a special term for this crossover of genres is proof that they are usually distinct entities.

I know plenty of people who love fantasy, but have no interest in science fiction. And vice versa. No shame on either side, you just read what you want to. Yet bookshops still have one SFF section. But data from last year (I believe from The Bookseller) showed that of the top 50 bestselling SFF titles, only two were SF. They were Project Hail Mary and Dune, no doubt boosted in the ratings by their scheduled big-screen adaptations.

And just look at trends. Romantasy is in right now. everybody is talking about it. Before that it was cozy fantasy. Before that it was Grimdark. All shifting massive amounts of books, and all part of the fantasy narrative. There hasn’t been a noteworthy SF trend since the New Wave of the 1970s, although the 80s and early 2010s both saw spikes in space opera publications. On TV, SF dominates, but in literature it always plays second fiddle to its upstart younger brother fantasy. I think it’s remarkable that we now have another trend coming in of LitRPG, which is rules based and frequently involves aliens or computer systems gone awry, yet the stories these books tell are almost exclusively aping the narratives and flavour of fantasy roleplaying games. By and large, people just don’t care about science fiction enough for big trends to gain traction.

There is hope, however. Alone among the major awards, the Locus Awards separated science fiction and fantasy. It doesn’t seem to have harmed anyone, and now everyone has an award. The Dragon Awards were separate from conception, though also included a number of even more niche subgenres to varying degrees of success. Take a look in the SFF section of bookshops, and you’ll see someone off to the side. Horror has been nudged out, and is thriving. Why can’t we tidy things up and compartmentalise just a little bit more?

There are counterarguments, of course. A lot of readers read both. A lot of writers write both. Lumping them together for the same award helps us see which is more popular/significant over time. To these arguments I say: A lot of fantasy readers read historical fiction, we don’t shelve them together. If Brandon Sanderson wrote a historical romance, that would be shelved differently. And do we really think the trends will be forgotten just because we remember them for two genres? I think not.

The real test will be this: SF has fewer readers. If it self-isolates, can it survive? Or does it need to lure in unsuspecting fantasy readers in order to remain viable? Maybe it does, but I hope not. And I think it’s worth at least pondering if the genre would be better off striking out on its own. After all, what is science fiction if not an experiment in thinking differently?