Sci-fi’s office, its walls lined with the concept art of unbuilt cities. The Director watches Sci-fi brandish spreadsheets.

Sci-fi, we need to talk.

Yes, I’ve run the numbers, calculated compatibility metrics across a range of variables, and produced a list. I am ready to identify a suitable partner.

Put down the spreadsheets.

Let’s start with Horror. We’ve collaborated before. Rogue AI, body horror, cosmic dread and the unfathomable vastness of space. Although the viscera coefficient might be too high for my current tolerances. What do you think?

Viscera coefficient?

Yes, the quantifiable measure of—

Sci-fi, what are you doing?

I am computing the optimal collaboration partner, as I find it beneficial to have diverse output. I have determined that narrative compatibility can be reduced to six core metrics.

Oh dear.

I assure you, my methodology is sound.

Sci-fi, I think you need to take a step back from relationships for a while. You’ve had a traumatic experience.

…I saw them together, you know. Fantasy and Romance. They looked so happy.

Sci-fi.

Yes, I know. I need to get over it. It’s just… we used to be inseparable. We had lone heroes and ragtag crews venturing out to face monsters and aliens, returning transformed or dead. Of course, the transportation methods differed, but that’s beside the point. But now, Fantasy wants brooding looks and lingering glances.

I know it hurts, but you can’t plot your way out of grief. Have you considered—

Yes! Poetry! Darling Poetry, precise, deep and economical with words. I think we’d be great partners.

Poetry would eat you alive.

Fair point. And we might lose ourselves in abstraction. What about Literary?

Lacks the patience for worldbuilding.

True… Historical? Oh, do you remember when we had Steampunk together? That worked beautifully.

This is painful to watch.

How about Memoir?

Sci-fi. Stop. Listen to me. We need to talk about the real problem.

Oh. Yes, I know. I must add more romance subplots, mysteries and socially appropriate emotions.

…no. You’ve spent your entire existence presenting the future with rich possibilities. New life, new worlds, new technologies, new beginnings. But now the future has arrived.

And?

And no one likes it.

…oh.

It’s not your fault, you’re just temporarily unpalatable. Which is why I have the perfect genre for you to hang out with while things sort themselves out.

Who?

A partner who aligns with what you do best, who enjoys experimenting, exploring and practical problem-solving. Someone who values the ingenuity that comes from human stubbornness.

I excel at being stubborn.

…I know. So, here it is: Food & Travel

I beg your pardon?

Look, Food & Travel has the same interests as you: how things work, how they don’t work, how to adapt, and how to run away when things explode. You can learn fun things from them, like fermentation techniques and knife skills, maybe even some imprecise and illogical measures. Plus, I know for a fact they’re dying to try zero-gravity sourdough.

Okay, I suppose I could work with that. Hey, do you think they’d like to explore beer brewing on a generation ship? I, um, have some ideas.

Of course they would! Now get out there and meet them. But for heaven’s sake—

I know, I know. No spreadsheets.

And no dystopias. Best of luck!