David Lubar is the author of many children’s books, including some great books to introduce to kids who love scary books, such as the Weenies books and the Nathan Abercrombie, Accidental Zombie series, and he now has published a “young adult” collection of horror stories called Extremities (the publisher failed to send us a copy for review, so I can’t tell you what that actually means in terms of age appropriateness).  It wasn’t an easy thing– he wrote about how difficult it was to get a publisher to show interest in short stories in this essay.

I think publishers in general have missed out on the appeal of the short story, especially for kids and young adults. A short story can have a solid impact that a novel makes too diffuse (if you want to see how awful translating a short story into a novel can be go check out Isaac Asimov’s short story “Nightfall” (I first read this in high school) and then read the novel version, Nightfall, co-written with Robert Silverberg (or not– how two giants of science fiction managed to make such a mess of such a masterpiece is beyond me). When a short story ends suddenly, it doesn’t feel like a cheat. It takes your breath away. You have to muse on that last moment– did the princess choose the lady or the tiger?  If a novel ends suddenly, it’s annoying– I want things tied up.

The short story requires economy of language. Every word must count, and what is left out can be as important as what is visible on the page. A collection of short stories provides variety. You can flip through and find something that probably will fit your mood. Even if one story doesn’t float your boat, it doesn’t mean you’re sunk with hundreds of pages. The next one might be fantastic. A short story can be read in one sitting. Someone who finishes what she’s reading builds a sense of mastery. It’s not required that you slog through a thousand page novel for that feeling of “Aha!”

Lubar wrote that he felt that one reason he wasn’t able to sell the concept was because, although he described it as an anthology of horror stories, not all of them had supernatural forces. That may matter if we’re niggling over the details of genre– Becky Siegel Spratford’s definition of horror states that it must have a supernatural creature or aspect. But it mostly doesn’t matter to the readers. Maybe it’s better to call them scary stories than horror stories, if genre definition matters that much. We receive anthologies and short story collections all the time (check out this link to our YA anthologies page and this link to our adult anthologies page). Some have supernatural horrors, some have human horrors, and some have both. Kids and adults both like short and scary stories, and a short story collection is a great place to take risks. Publishers, take notice.