Fantasy is genre

Another world is not a box, some strange land under and alien sky is not a box. It is a land, and it is strange, and it is vast and sweeping and irredeemable. And I am doomed.

I do not want to learn how to write fantasy. That was not my plan. I wrote, and it was fantasy. Maybe all those books I read influenced the choice, or maybe it is the natural way for one like me. That is what I thought at least. It is still true, but what the hell is fantasy? A little niche drilled into the wall, a premise already given at the beginning so you are stuck there and you cannot escape ever.

I love it, I love it dearly and I cannot imagine how a thing could really matter to me if it were not fantasy. It is such an honest sort of writing, everything is there and tangible. It is such an earnest sort of writing, there is no sophistry or judgement, only the keen desire to lead the reader off into some unknown place. That does not seem so bad.

But we use a set of tools and symbols to create and the ones I hold are of more then character and plot. I have such a variety of clothes and mechanisms, little things that flavour fantasy. How can I cast off these clothes? I thought I had, I thought I had done away with it. I thought I had the tools and symbols at my command, I thought I could do what I liked. I don't like this.