At what point did making books harder to read become a sign of literary quality?

Every so often I pick up a literary novel, settle into my favourite chair, turn the first page and immediately find myself playing a game of "who's actually speaking?"

There are no quotation marks. Dialogue drifts into narration. Characters merge together. Paragraphs stretch for pages with barely a full stop to catch your breath.

It isn't long before I'm no longer immersed in the story. Instead, I'm decoding it.

Beyond genre: experimental and alt-lit’s bold new directions

Genres are meant to be helpful. They signpost where to look on the shelves in bookshops and libraries, offering a comforting sense of what to expect. But what happens when a book won’t stay put? 

When its narrative is fragmented, its form elastic, and its voice deliberately hard to pin down?

When to break the rules of writing: how and why to Experiment

There’s a point in every writer’s journey when you realise the rules, the ones you've been diligently following, are not commandments but conventions. They're guidelines. Or handrails. Ideas that work brilliantly until they don’t. And sometimes, the best writing happens when you break them.

This isn’t a green light for chaos. You have to know the rules before you break them. You have to understand how rhythm works before you fragment a sentence. You need to learn what a story arc is before you bend it, or break it. But once you do, experimentation can lead to extraordinary storytelling.

So when should you consider breaking the rules? And how can you do it well? Luckily there are loads of great examples.