By Paul Goat Allen
As a book buyer for Waldenbooks and an editor for B&N, Inc. back in the ‘90s and 2000s, I always sought out new anthologies to promote. In my mind, for the price of one book, a reader could experience a wide variety of stories, and a diversity of narrative voices. It was like that Gumpism about a box of chocolates—you never know what you’re going to get. And it was through my love of anthologies when I was younger that I discovered so many amazing writers that I may have never had the chance to experience. Anthologies were—and are—literary doorways into buildings with limitless stories.
A great example was the ground-breaking Dangerous Visions (1967), edited by Harlan Ellison, which introduced me to a pantheon of science fiction and fantasy luminaries like Fritz Leiber, Philip K. Dick, Frederik Pohl, Roger Zelazny, Poul Anderson, and Samuel R. Delany. This anthology blew me away as a teenager and made me a speculative fiction fan for life.
Fast forward a few decades. As a full-time book critic, I’ve seen a notable rise in the quantity—and quality—of indie anthologies in the last few
years, including Trans Anthology Project: Reflections of Self-Discovery and Acceptance, edited by Chrissy Boylan and Heather H. Kirby; The Asylum of Terror, Vol. 2, edited by Bowie V. Ibarra; and Shadow Atlas: Dark Landscapes of the Americas, edited by Carina Bissett, Hillary Dodge, and Joshua Viola, to name just a few. (The Trans Anthology Project received a starred review from both BlueInk and Kirkus, by the way.)
But, as an obsessive bestsellers list stalker, most of these exceptional indie anthologies haven’t fared all that well in terms of sustained commercial success. They come and go like ships in the night. And while I realize there are a plethora of significant variables (publicity budget, marketing plan, target audience, etc.), I stumbled across a fascinating finding while looking through the many anthologies in my library.
The vast number of traditionally published anthologies feature a list of contributing writers prominently on the cover while most indie anthologies only list the editor.
My theory is this: unless the editor is famous (like Harlan Ellison when Dangerous Visions was released), I honestly don’t care who an anthology editor is. On the other hand, if I see a list of writers (ideally a few that I’ve already read), I’m going to pick up that anthology every single time!
I think the best conceived anthology covers feature both writers and editor. Here are three perfect examples I found on my shelves:
Thriller: Stories to Keep You up at Night, edited by James Patterson (2006)
The Living Dead, edited by John Joseph Adams (2008)
The Thackery T. Lambshead Pocket Guide to Eccentric & Discredited Diseases, edited by Jeff VanderMeer and Mark Roberts (2005)
So, I’m curious. Is an anthology that features contributing writers’ names on the cover more likely to be bought and read than the same anthology with just an editor’s name? What are your thoughts?
Paul Goat Allen has been reviewing books for almost three decades. In addition to BlueInk Review, his work has appeared with BarnesandNoble.com, The Chicago Tribune, Publishers Weekly, Kirkus, and more. He also teaches in Seton Hill University’s Writing Popular Fiction graduate writing program.



Kat, agreed. The ideal anthology (as far as cover art goes) indicates an intriguing theme—like Nightmerica: Corruptions of the American Dream—and features the name(s) of the editor(s) and at least a few featured writers. In the case of Nightmerica, I absolutely LOVE the cover art but I would’ve liked to see some writers features on either the front or back cover. I looked online to see what writers were featured in this anthology and I couldn’t that information anywhere. Big missed opportunity as I probably wouldn’t review that release because of the lack of that info.
For me, name recognition definitely helps (editor or author equally), but the theme of the anthology is even more compelling. I just bought an anthology called Nightmerica: Corruptions of the American Dream, specifically because I thought it would be cool to see what writers would come up with in exploring barriers to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness through stories described as disturbing, uncanny, and even monstrous.