The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances is a new science fiction novel by Glenn Dixon set in the near future, where artificial intelligence has become integrated with every aspect of society. From large-scale geographic planning to the most humble of household appliances, machines are able to plan, speak, think for themselves, and—as so often seems to happen in this speculative realm—consciously feel.
It is possible to designate three or four protagonists of the novel, watched over by an omniscient narrator. We are introduced first to the roomba vacuum Scout, who has named herself after the protagonist of Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. The narrator refers to Scout as female from the beginning, and the roomba explicitly announces a choice of gender a little over halfway through the novel. Scout works with a number of other household appliances equipped with AI, including a Fridge, a Clock, and the wristwatch that maintains benevolent control over an integrated house. The human residents of the house are Harold and Edie, an elderly couple with interests in literature and music, respectively. Their adult daughter, Kate, was exiled from home years ago, but returns when Edie falls gravely ill and dies. A boy from the neighborhood, Adrian, visits to take piano lessons from Edie, initially unaware that she has passed away.
Conflict comes when the Grid, the AI system in virtual control of the United States, virtual in both senses, deems Harold’s house too large to live in without Edie. The Grid begins a series of coordinated actions to force him out of the house. Harold, the returned Kate, the fortuitous Adrian, and the little vacuum cleaner Scout form a resistance.
In style, The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances is straightforward and almost fable-like. One can see this book as appealing to both young people and adults, with the former encouraged by the style, as well as the protagonist touchpoints of the childlike AI Scout and the actual child Adrian. Kate’s situation will resonate with lost and questioning young adults everywhere, while Harold’s grief and attempts to connect with younger people like Kate and Adrian holds a sense of authenticity.
Throughout the novel, concepts of communication and connection are explored. The reader witnesses the various protagonists learning to communicate with each other across generational gaps, gaps in values, and biological-technological gaps. Countering them is the Grid, the system which has so organized human society that the world has taken on the feeling of a social wasteland. Several remarkable scenes involve the human characters taking walks outside, moving through barren, eerie neighborhoods where everyone stays inside. It is unfortunately difficult to quote a good example from the text, as the effect is spread out over pages of dialogue and brief, indirect descriptions, by the end of which the reader comes to realize how strange and lonely this world has become.
The COVID-19 pandemic created a rift in sociability that has not resolved and indeed possibly never will. Many people have discovered the comfort and ease of computers to be preferable to the efforts of going out and meeting others face-to-face. The ordinary internet offers endless community spaces, as do rapidly growing virtual reality games. Limited AI provides quick (if questionable) answers, and easy (if prosaic) entertainment. This is not a moral condemnation, but an observation of what is constantly evolving, and perhaps ultimately necessary—in the sense that all things are a product of necessity. The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances suggests some warnings toward this evolution.
For the most part these themes are well-explored, and the characters are pleasant to follow. The topic of communication does feel a bit confused at times, especially near the end of the novel when characters fail to communicate clearly with each other in a way that doesn’t seem informed by necessity of the setting or the apparent personalities of the characters themselves. Additionally, perhaps due to the book’s fable-like structure, we do not learn about the overall society or the precise nature of the Grid in detail. The reader may be distracted by questions directly related to the plot—questions regarding the extent of the threat against the protagonists, the abilities of the Grid, and the abilities of the protagonist AIs—that are not clearly addressed.
Clear inspiration for the novel can be traced to Thomas M. Disch’s novella The Brave Little Toaster, a story perhaps more popularly known now for its animated film adaptation. The motif of living household objects can be traced further back to The Velveteen Rabbit and to various forms of animism where manmade objects and natural phenomena are imbued with active, intelligent spirits. We approach, if we have not already entered, an age where formerly inanimate objects have taken on the appearance of intelligence, where the phone application Alexa is always ready for a conversation, and where smart homes regulate themselves. Certain philosophies and religions describe the entire world, animate and inanimate, as resonating with various levels of consciousness. Real or illusory, this sense will grow within our own homes with the development of increasingly advanced machines.

FICTION
The Infinite Sadness of Small Appliances
By Glenn Dixon
Atria Books
Published on April 7, 2026

Philip Janowski is a fiction writer and essayist living in Chicago. He is president of the Speculative Literature Foundation's Chicago Branch, a member of the Chicago Writers Association's Board of Directors, and a presenter with the late David Farland's international Apex Writers group. He has studied under such accomplished writers as Sequoia Nagamatsu, Martin Shoemaker, and Michael Zadoorian. His work in fiction has been awarded with an Honorable Mention from the Writers of the Future contest, and his major project is the upcoming Dominoes Trilogy. He can be reached by his Instagram account (@spiral_go), or by email at (philip@speculativeliterature.org).
