When I started writing fantasy, I leaned more toward the dark and gritty. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the soft and cozy; I just felt I wrote darker stories better. But over the few years, I’ve come to appreciate writing the softer stories. I still wanted to tell stories that had a layer of sadness amidst the cozy.

I think cozy can explore difficult and heavy topics without being as dark as grimdark or dark fantasy. It’s almost like creating a melancholic experience, like a sip of tea with some bitterness in it to enhance the sweetness. I think it’s a genre that’s growing in popularity because it often provides a break from the heaviness of life, which makes sense, especially considering how the last several years have gone.

With Hills of Heather and Bone, I wanted there to be comfort in day-to-day things like gardening, cottagecore vibes, loving relationships, and enjoying life, while still having hard moments of loss, dealing with anxiety and grief, and times of discomfort. I think there’s a sort of coziness to catharsis, like the feeling you get after a good cry because even though the event that triggered it was painful, having that relief and knowing someone else has gone through it has a sort of calming effect in the moment.

I’ve found sometimes that cozy stories are like warm hugs when things are bad, holding us close, and while they don’t necessarily change those bad things, they remind us that there’s still goodness and love in the world.

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