If you’re writing a series—whether it’s a TV show, a novel arc, a serialized podcast, or anything that unfolds over time—you’re playing with more than just story. You’re making a promise. A vibe. A coded handshake with your audience that says: “This is the kind of ride you're about to take.”
That handshake? That’s genre.
Genre tells readers or viewers what kind of emotional experience to expect. It sets the rules of engagement. It shapes your creative decisions and (this is key) your marketing ones too. It’s not just about dragons or detectives. It’s about positioning your work in a way that grabs attention and delivers on expectations.
But here's the twist: today's most compelling series don't stick to genre like it's a checklist. They play with it. They twist it. They build something familiar enough to attract an audience—but fresh enough to stand out.
This guide breaks down how you can master genre, not by copying trends or following formulas, but by understanding what makes genre work, how it shapes audience connection, and how to use it to elevate your own story.
Why Genre Isn’t a Box—It’s a Toolkit
Let’s start with a mindset shift: genre is not a limitation. It’s not a rigid box you get stuffed into. It’s a flexible set of tools. It gives you structure, emotional tone, audience clarity—and freedom to innovate inside a recognizable shape.
It tells people:
What kind of story this is
How they’ll feel while reading or watching it
Whether this series is "for them"
And when you're trying to cut through a crowded entertainment market, clarity is everything. You want someone to know exactly what you’re offering in the span of a few seconds—and genre does that heavy lifting.
But the best part? You don’t have to play it straight. You just have to know the expectations well enough to break them on purpose.
Let’s dive into six core genres that dominate serialized storytelling—and how you can use (and tweak) each one to your advantage.
Mystery/Crime: The Puzzle-Box Experience
There’s something timeless about a good mystery. The central question—“What really happened?”—is a storytelling magnet. It pulls people in, keeps them guessing, and gives them the delicious thrill of feeling like they’re solving the story alongside your characters.
Core Traits:
A central question or puzzle (often a crime)
A lead character investigating—police, journalist, amateur sleuth
Step-by-step revelation through interviews, evidence, or discovery
Payoffs in the form of clues, reveals, and twists
A satisfying resolution (unless you’re building for ambiguity)
What the Audience Expects:
Mystery fans want to play along. They expect tension, misdirection, and a fair shot at solving it themselves. Most importantly? They want closure—an answer that makes sense based on the clues they’ve seen.
They don’t mind a twist. They don’t mind being wrong. But they do mind feeling tricked.
Series That Nail It:
True Detective (Season 1): A moody, philosophical detective story layered in dual timelines and existential dread. Classic structure with deep character complexity.
Only Murders in the Building: Takes traditional whodunit elements, adds podcasting and comedy, and reintroduces the genre to a younger, podcast-loving crowd.
Knives Out: Uses genre familiarity to flip expectations at every turn, with a lead detective (Benoit Blanc) who instantly became iconic.
How to Position Your Mystery:
Start by asking: What’s your unique hook? Is your protagonist unconventional? Is your mystery format fresh—like episodic, inverted, or ensemble-based? Is the setting specific and unusual?
Don't sell "another murder mystery." Sell your spin on the form.
Fantasy: The World-Building Contract
Fantasy offers full-blown immersion. It takes readers or viewers out of the real world and drops them into something unfamiliar—but believable. It’s where imagination meets rules. And it’s not just about wizards and quests anymore.
Core Traits:
A richly developed world with internal consistency
Supernatural or magical elements
Epic or character-driven storylines (often both)
Themes of identity, power, and transformation
Often involves a hero’s journey or mythic structure
What the Audience Expects:
Fantasy fans love detail. They want lore, logic, and language. They crave immersion—not just spectacle, but sense. The world needs to feel real, even if it’s built from scratch.
And they love scale. Whether that’s emotional or visual, fantasy offers stakes that feel mythic.
Series That Nail It:
Game of Thrones: Took the classic fantasy map and drenched it in political maneuvering, moral grayness, and surprise deaths.
The Sandman: Uses myth, dreams, and narrative itself as story elements—layered, poetic, and deeply philosophical.
Discworld: Brilliant satire wrapped in fantasy world-building. A reminder that fantasy can be smart, funny, and culturally sharp.
How to Position Your Fantasy:
Don’t just pitch “it’s a magical kingdom.” Show what’s different. A magic system tied to emotions? A post-industrial fantasy city? A story where world-building reflects real-world issues like colonialism or climate collapse?
Lead with what only your world can offer.
Science Fiction: The What-If Engine
Science fiction looks at where we’re going—and what it might cost. It’s a genre of thought experiments, big ideas, and ethical exploration. At its core, it’s about change: technological, environmental, existential.
Core Traits:
Speculative tech or science-based developments
Extrapolation of current trends into future or alternate realities
Exploration of social, political, or moral consequences
Often uses unfamiliar settings to reflect human issues
What the Audience Expects:
Sci-fi fans want stimulation. They’re not just here for spaceships—they’re here for questions. What happens when we invent consciousness? What if society is restructured by automation? What if memory can be deleted?
But they also want character and connection. High-concept isn’t enough—you need heart too.
Series That Nail It:
Black Mirror: Short stories of near-future tech horror that feel just a little too real.
The Expanse: Interplanetary politics and gritty realism grounded in actual science.
Station Eleven: Post-apocalyptic survival with a quiet focus on art, memory, and human connection.
How to Position Your Sci-Fi:
Lead with the concept. What’s your “what if”? And why does it matter now? Then layer in your emotional core—because that’s what makes speculative stories stick.
Romance: The Emotional Journey
Romance is sometimes dismissed as formulaic—but that’s because people misunderstand the genre. At its best, romance is emotional storytelling distilled to its essence. It’s about vulnerability, connection, and transformation.
Core Traits:
A central relationship with romantic stakes
Tension created by internal or external obstacles
Emotional arcs that show growth, trust, and risk
Key relationship milestones (first meeting, kiss, breakup, reunion)
A meaningful resolution (not always “happy,” but emotionally satisfying)
What the Audience Expects:
Romance fans want to feel deeply. They’re looking for characters they can root for, tension that feels real, and emotional payoffs that deliver. Some want HEA (happily ever after). Others are okay with bittersweet—but closure matters.
And yes, they want chemistry. But more than that—they want stakes that feel earned.
Series That Nail It:
Normal People: An aching, nuanced portrayal of connection and miscommunication.
Bridgerton: Classic romance tropes dressed in lavish period aesthetics and modern beats.
Heartstopper: Soft, affirming, and quietly radical in its sincere portrayal of young queer love.
How to Position Your Romance:
Focus on your unique relationship dynamics. Are you exploring intimacy between unlikely partners? Navigating culture or identity? Or reworking tropes (fake dating, enemies-to-lovers) in unexpected ways?
Lead with the emotion, not just the pairing.
Horror: The Safe Space to Be Scared
Horror works by pushing limits—psychological, emotional, sometimes visceral. It confronts fear in ways that let audiences explore discomfort while still feeling safe. Done well, it sticks under your skin.
Core Traits:
Atmosphere of dread and unease
Tension-release structure
Themes of death, transformation, taboo, or the unknown
Metaphors that reflect real-life anxieties
Shocks, reveals, and boundaries crossed
What the Audience Expects:
Horror fans want to feel afraid—but meaningfully. Jump scares are fine, but they’re hungry for stories that explore deeper things: trauma, grief, alienation, repression. They want to be disturbed for a reason.
And they love clever metaphor. The best horror isn’t just about the monster—it’s about what the monster means.
Series That Nail It:
The Haunting of Hill House: Ghosts as metaphor for grief and loss.
Yellowjackets: Survival horror meets coming-of-age, drenched in atmosphere and tension.
Hannibal: Aesthetic, cerebral horror with a rich psychological core.
How to Position Your Horror:
What's your horror really about? Not just plot—but fear. Isolation? Shame? Addiction? Horror that touches on universal anxieties will resonate longer than simple gore.
Using Genre to Position Your Series: Strategy Time
Understanding genre doesn’t just help with story—it helps with:
Marketing
Pitching
Audience-building
Longevity
Benefits of Genre Clarity
Easier to pitch: Platforms and agents need to know where you fit.
Faster discovery: Readers or viewers can find you more easily.
Better audience retention: If you deliver the expected emotional arc, people will return for more.
Stronger identity: You know what you are—and what you’re not.
Practical Exercises to Apply Genre to Your Own Work
1. Define Your Core Genre Promise
Fill in this sentence:
“My series delivers [emotional experience] through [genre format] using [unique approach].”
Example:
“My mystery series delivers the thrill of uncovering secrets through a historical lens, led by an exiled noblewoman turned amateur sleuth.”
2. Genre Element Mapping
Build a table like this:
| Element | Genre Norm | Your Twist | Why It Works
| Magic System | Rule-based learning | Emotion-based chaos | Reinforces theme
3. Cross-Genre Opportunities
Blend two genres and ask:
What’s new?
What conflicts emerge?
How do you resolve them?
Example:
Mystery + Horror = Solve the case, but leave the supernatural threat ambiguous.
4. Competitive Positioning
Study 3–5 similar series:
How do they define their genre?
What audiences do they reach?
What’s their tone?
Now ask: Where’s the gap?
Your series might fill a niche no one’s tapped—say, queer sci-fi romance set in a hyper-capitalist space colony.
Final Thoughts: Genre Isn’t the End. It’s the Beginning.
The most successful stories don’t ignore genre. They embrace it. They use it to anchor their storytelling, shape emotional rhythm, attract audiences, and build worlds that feel both familiar and original.
So don't fear the word “genre.” Learn its language. Speak it fluently. Then bend it, twist it, and make it yours.
Because genre isn’t where creativity ends. It’s where it begins.
About the Authors:
Phil Zizza and Wade Peña bring over 60 years of combined entertainment industry experience to their writing. From LA to NY to Orlando, they've worked on the writing, consulting, and producing sides of top TV, film, and animation projects.
Ready to elevate your storytelling?
Discover the professional techniques for story structure and pitching in their new book, "The Series Development Playbook."