Anthologising

I’m relatively new to the short story game, having started my middle-aged phase of writing with novels – one completed and two currently dismantled for rebuilding. So, as a diversion from the angst of querying agents, I’ve been having a go at shorts.

I’ve tried my hand at flash, but I find it difficult to get the full character development and complete story down within the confines of 1,000 words. I end up with something more like a vignette. Needless to say, I’ve had no success; nobody wants flash fiction without a true narrative arc. It’s a skill I haven’t yet mastered, and perhaps it doesn’t suit me.

I’ve had better luck with Litopia’s monthly micro-fiction competition, One Perfect Sentence, having won or been placed several times. It’s judged anonymously, so I have justifiable bragging rights there. But I struggled to come up with anything decent for the most recent contest, and I’ve only posted one entry.

There’s satisfaction to be gained in writing within the boundary of a short word limit, but I’m more comfortable with a scope of 2,000-5,000 words, and this is where my stories tend to land.

I’ve been extremely fortunate that the first short story I wrote and submitted was accepted by Mslexia. Really, what were the chances? Now I’m working on more stories to submit to other magazines and anthologies in the hope that it wasn’t a fluke. Rejection is inevitable, but I may as well have fun with it all, and I’m enjoying my interactions with editors. They seem rather encouraging and supportive and don’t make me feel like I’m mithering.

I recently submitted to one such enthusiastic editor who is compiling an anthology for White City Press, marvellously titled Sex and Synthesizers. The remit is specific. Very specific. All stories must be set in the 1980s, featuring synthesizers, at least one erotic scene, and a crime. White City Press specialises in such anthologies. Their books are attractive and intriguing and showcase a plethora of emerging and established writers. I’m still waiting to hear their verdict on my New Order-inspired, synthesizer-heist, lesbian sex-romp, but I had a ball writing the thing. Whether or not my story is accepted, I can’t help but admire their output. Anthologies/Collections – White City Press

Anthologies of multiple authors are a wonderful way to discover new writers and to be discovered by new readers. But when faced with such an anthology, the reader has a choice to go straight for the names they recognise or dutifully start with the first story and work their way through. In the latter case, the first author enjoys unequal favour, being most likely to be read. And if the story at the beginning has an unfair advantage, should we start somewhere else – with the most intriguing title or something picked at random? Or is that a disservice to the sequencing of an anthology which is, after all, part of the editor’s craft?

When it comes to music, I’m a passionate advocate of the album as a format. I dislike algorithmic playlists, and I don’t have a Spotify account (if Neil Young won’t go there, neither will I). You won’t find Greatest Hits compilations in my record collection.

The songs on an LP are sequenced for artistic reasons and intended to be listened to in that order. I never use the random play function on my CD player, and I respect the ritual turn of vinyl from A to B. It would be nonsensical to replace Black Dog with Stairway to Heaven as the first track you hear on Led Zeppelin IV just because it’s the more well-known song. And I only ever want to hear Outside from beginning to end, despite it being Bowie’s longest album at nearly seventy-five minutes.

So, why am I choosing to read the shortlist season instead of the opening story in Ali Smith’s The Whole Story and Other Stories? Ironically the last story in this anthology is called the start of things. Perhaps that’s where I should begin. And does it matter if I don’t read them all? (Well, yes, because I love Ali Smith.)

When I studied Dubliners for A-level, the teacher told us that the exam questions would only be from some of the stories near the beginning. Thirty-plus years later, and I still haven’t read past Two Gallants.

How many people will read every story in a collection when there isn’t the same impetus to continue from one to the next like chapters of a novel? And does it matter, once the book is sold, if it’s ever finished?

If I ever compile an anthology of my own stories, I will sweat over the running order. Should I place all my ‘best’ stories at the start like a front-loaded LP with all the hits on side one? I’m sure I will deliberate far too long over the all-important closing tale that nobody will ever read.

How do you approach an anthology of short stories? Do you read them in their entireties or dip in and out?

Have you ever edited or compiled anthology? How did you decide on the sequencing of the stories?

Should we consider the craft of the short story collection the same way as the art of the album?

Have you any recommendations of short story anthologies?