Is Corporate America Killing Fantasy? Hilary Layne on The Hidden Formula That's Been Ruining Fantasy Stories Since the 70s
Here's why Tolkien is not the 'father' of modern fantasy (not the way you think), and why we need to reclaim the genre. Watch this video.
Every member of our community—every aspiring author, myth-weaver, and lover of legends—needs to see Hilary Layne’s video on the rise (and fall) of modern fantasy publishing. I wish we could assign it as required viewing for everyone in LegendFiction.
At first glance, some of us—especially those raised on classical education, myth, and Tolkien—might brush off what trends in pop culture. But what she reveals is sobering.
Fantasy—a genre meant to expand our imagination and reconnect us to the deep roots of meaning—has too often become a product line. A formula. A factory floor of derivative stories stamped out to meet trends and profits.
This is a history I never knew. And I’m intensely glad I know it now.
Because at LegendFiction, we believe stories matter. We believe they’re how souls survive. Not every book needs to be a world-shaking saga—but the point of storytelling is that they should mean something. Some stories should be holy, slow-burning, spirit-rending works that shake the ground and sing into the future.
Even if Layne paints with a broad brush, the core of her message is true. If we want to write better, deeper, freer fiction—we must understand the ground we’ve inherited.
This video is a wake-up call. It’s exactly why LegendFiction is here, to help authors get back their love of writing. And it’s why we’ve launched
- to publish the indie must-reads and book recommendations for your TBR lists.Because the good stuff is out there, and it’s in you. We just need to help folk find it.
Fantasy Didn’t Start This Way
"If you've been following me for any length of time, then by now you should know how I feel about formulas," begins Hilary Layne, host of The Second Story YouTube channel. "Not to overstate things, but formulas in terms of their overall impact on literature, the book industry, and storytelling as a craft and an art destroy everything."
So opens a blistering, comprehensive takedown of modern fantasy publishing. In her signature blend of snark and scholarship, Layne charts the transformation of fantasy from mythic storytelling into corporate formula—a genre shackled to predictability by design.
Fantasy: A Modern American Invention
"Fantasy as a genre at the bookstore," Layne explains, "is pretty much a modern American invention." She walks us through a distinction many overlook: while fantasy stories are as old as storytelling itself, the genre of fantasy—the packaged, marketed, shelf-categorized version—only emerged recently.
Despite common belief, J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t create the ‘fantasy’ genre. He just wrote stories. "Tolkien didn't create anything but a world and some stories that took place in it," she asserts. "The fantasy genre was not only not created by Tolkien—it had nothing at all to do with Tolkien."
The Formula that Changed Everything
According to Layne, the explosion of interest in Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings in the 1960s sparked a gold rush. Publishers, suddenly profit-driven in a postwar America, saw dollar signs. The genre's path was sealed not by literary ambition but by opportunism—specifically that of Lester Del Rey.
"This is the man who made fantasy into a serious and marketable literary genre," Layne says of Del Rey, "and who also killed fantasy before it ever even had a chance to come into its own."
Del Rey took Terry Brooks’s Tolkien-clone The Sword of Shannara, stripped it of its more original elements (like its sci-fi dystopian backdrop), and leaned hard into the familiar. The book became a hit—and more importantly, it became a model.
"Lester Del Rey put together his own formula," she explains. "Books would be original novels set in invented worlds in which magic works. Each would have a male central character who triumphed over the forces of evil... with the help of a tutor or tutelary spirit."
Layne sees this formula as the death knell for originality in fantasy. "It did, like it or not, prove to be successful for a time," she admits. But success came at a cost. Fantasy became product. A $3 paperback to be sold in chain bookstores.
The Industry Imitates
"You can probably guess what happened next," Layne says. Other publishers followed suit. Fantasy lines emerged that mimicked Del Rey’s model. Tor Books, founded in 1980, explicitly based their plans on Del Rey’s methods. "We looked at how Del Rey made Terry Brooks, and we did that," one editor said.
The result? A tidal wave of derivative content. "It created an enormous wave of trash writing to fill the neurotic hungers of an established audience trained... to accept tiny nuances and gestures overlaying mediocrity and repetition as true originality," she quotes David G. Hartwell in The New York Times.
The Anti-Formula and Its Mirror
A new breed of fantasy writer emerged to rebel—chief among them Michael Moorcock and later George R.R. Martin. Layne dissects their rebellion: "Martin, like most or all modern fantasy writers, has defined himself in part by how different he is from what he sees as the legacy of J.R.R. Tolkien."
But Layne sees irony. These rebellions became formulas themselves.
"Morco looked at the world of Del Rey and his imitators and blamed Tolkien," she argues. "But they were fighting no greater enemy than basic corporate greed."
The anti-hero, the cynicism, the sex and violence of Game of Thrones—Layne positions them not as artistic statements, but as predictable inversions of the original formula. “At the end of the day, it was just another formula."
The Corporate Engine Keeps Churning
Even now, she says, that formula engine still powers the publishing world. The names have changed, the tropes have shifted—but the business model remains the same.
"Lester Del Rey's formula engine is still going strong—even though his original formula has been largely abandoned."
The goal remains: sell stuff.
Twinkies and Tolkien
Layne likens corporate fantasy to convenience-store pastries: addictive, empty, and ultimately harmful.
"Entertainment for the sake of entertainment can be fun," she concedes. "But it's a lot like convenience store pastries. Twinkies are great—but that can't be the only thing you eat."
She’s not opposed to entertainment. But when formulas become industry mandates, the art suffers. "Allowing a bunch of corporate overlords to decide how it is that we are entertained is troubling," she warns.
A Call to Action
So what should writers do?
"Whatever the industry is doing, do yourself a favor and ignore it," Layne urges. "Don't do the opposite. Don't try to subvert it. Just ignore it like it isn't even there."
She ends with a rallying cry: "To hell with the formulas and the corporate decrees. To hell with what's popular on Twitter or BookTok or whatever. Learn to write well... and whatever you do, don't stop telling stories."
In a world awash in trends, tropes, and templates, Layne’s call is one of clarity: fantasy didn’t have to become this.
Maybe it doesn’t have to stay this way either.
Here’s my recommendation:
If you’re passionate about fantasy storytelling, you need to re-wild yourself out of the booktok-ification of the genre.
As much as I love pop culture and the fun stuff in it, your creativity is a service you develop and master for yourself, and maybe the human family (also called publication).
So knowing who you are and why you care matters deeply.
Check out two series on the LegendFiction channel; consider them our masterclasses in rewilding your soul:
Bardskull: A Retreat into the Wilds to rediscover the haunted holiness of your soul
On Fairy Stories: Tolkien’s manifesto on the true depth and meaning of story
May the lore be with you.
Keep writing!
This made me think of a recent comment on a novella I have in the Beta-read phase. Apparently, it did not follow the formula that there has to be a concrete resolution at the end of the story where the good guy destroys the bad guy.
What I had done was have the good guy destroy the bad people's master plan but the bad people are still around and ready to develop another plan of conquest. The MC knows this and resigns himself to more years of searching and fighting to finally defeat the large bad cabal. He does do it eventually later in the series - with the help of other good guys. The other good guys are only able to help finish this because of the MC's earlier victories.
However, this plot is apparently incomplete because of the lack of resolution at the end of this novella - the start of the series. I am not sure if I am supposed to have more resolution at the end because that is the formula I am supposed to follow, or that it is still a good story that follows its own path.
(By the way, I tend to make my own rules on my fantasy world, making it a unique story - according to what I have read and others have told me. And that is how I want it to be.)
Genre is derivative and contrived by its very nature. Tolkien was not writing in a genre. In fact, he wasn't writing fantasy at all. He was writing a fairy tale, which is a different beast altogether. So I'm not sure that reclaiming the genre is really a feasible project. The genre is that same set of commercial rules that you protest against. If you want to break out of that, the task is not to reclaim the genre but to break from the notion of genre altogether and simply write the stories that come to you in whatever form they come. Which is exactly what Tolkien did, and Lewis as well. And, we should not fail to mention, Charles Williams, whose work is just as original and compelling if not so well known.