Outline of Element

This chapter provides a brief history of how the anthology, as a form, developed alongside the changes in the publishing industry, copyright law, and authorship during the Early Modern period.Footnote ¹ It examines how modern anthologies began to focus on authors from socially marginalised groups and how this contributed to the development of inclusion, diversity, and identity-formation, challenged the canon, and continue to do so to this day. These conversations and histories are contextualised within the field of young adult literature (YA) in Chapters 2 and 3. By analysing the history of anthologies, this Element identifies patterns of exclusion that have persisted over time. These patterns often have deep historical roots. Recognising these patterns is essential for addressing ongoing issues of exclusion in contemporary literature and working towards greater inclusivity. Chapter 2 details the development of YA anthologies, using a selection of key YA Anthology texts to understand and map the evolution of this genre (and the subgenres within it). This history focuses on: Queer YA; Race and Ethnicity; Bodies and Minds; and Activism. It analyses anthologies that centre on, or at least include, authors from socially marginalised groups. The field of YA often tackles a wide range of social issues, including racism, sexism, homophobia, ableism, classism, and more (Reference CartCart, 2016). Analysing the representation of these marginalised identities in YA therefore offers valuable insights into the ways in which exclusionary dynamics operate within the field. However, most of the examples discussed in Chapters 2 are US-centric. This is because the United States (US) has a very large and influential YA market, which impacts reading cultures across the world (including the UK) (Reference Jenkins and CartJenkins & Cart, 2018; Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2021). Anthologies are, and have historically been, a communal endeavour. From the collective nature of manuscript coteries, which made up early miscellanies and were the forbearer to the more formal anthologies in the eighteenth century, to the anthologies we know today: anthologies showcase the relationship between the writer, booksellers/publishers, and reader (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). Chapter 3 explores this relationship to understand if and how YA anthologies are fostering a space where contributors can develop individual and collective identities. Importantly, especially to counter the US-centricness of YA, Chapter 3 presents a case study of a British YA (UKYA) anthology, situating the discussion within a British context. This helps us reflect upon and understand what British inclusive youth literature tells us about the UK today.

Form and Function

An anthology is a compilation of different works by various authors, often centred around a different theme, genre, time period, or country/culture (Reference PricePrice, 2000; Reference Di LeoDi Leo, 2004; Benedict, 2018). The exact definition of what an anthology is varies: neither publishers nor scholars have settled on uniform terminology. William Germano, the former vice president and publishing director of Routledge, suggests two categories: collections and anthologies. This is based on the level of editorial activity each requires. Collections, Reference GermanoGermano (2001) argues, are ‘gatherings of new or mostly new writing’; this requires the editor to seek contributors, and commission work from their networks. Anthologies, on the other hand, are ‘previously published or mostly previously published work’, which means editors collate ‘the best of what has been thought and said’ (p. 121): this reflects the original distinction, which will be detailed later in this chapter. Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott (2016, p. 565) describes the latter, where the short story may have been published in a magazine or another publication, as the ‘standard route’. Conversely, he calls anthologies that bring new writing to the fore, including through prizes, ‘adventurous’. ‘Adventurous’ anthologies, or collections that feature new writing and genre or popular fiction, can be seen as prompt and opportunistic forays into the market, while collections of ‘previously published or mostly previously published work’ strive to make enduring and impactful contributions to the field, regardless of their commercial success. This Element focuses on the ‘adventurous’ anthologies, the collections of new writing, and what this means not only for the genre but for the publishing industry in general. It looks specifically at curated collections that bring together the work of several authors (instead of the collected works of one author). For example, Chapter 3 presents an illuminating exploratory case study focused on the A Change Is Gonna Come YA anthology, which was published by Stripes/Little Tiger in 2017, specifically to tackle issues of exclusion in British publishing and writing. This anthology serves as an exemplar of how these collections can be catalysts for profound change, not only within the literary landscape but also within society at large.

Related to the topic of this Element are the numerous studies, in recent years, that have argued how exclusionary the English-language publishing industries are (Reference SahaSaha, 2017; Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019a, Reference Ramdarshan-Bold2019b; Reference SoSo, 2020). In the UK and the US, publishing is dominated by global, transmedia conglomerates that favour certain genres, languages, and types of authors, and those who do not fall within certain categories have found themselves writing and publishing on the margins. Historically, anthologies have been central in instituting a restricted canon. Reference Jarrell and MayJarrell (1994, p.9) observes that ‘Any anthology is, as the dictionary says, a bouquet – a bouquet that leaves out most of the world’s flowers’. Anthologies, like bouquets, are carefully curated to display the individual stories or poems within the collection but ultimately reflect the choice and tastes of the selector. Consequently, ‘anthologies are more than a referendum. They determine not simply who gets published or what gets read, but who reads, and how’ (Reference PricePrice, 2000, p.3). For example, when considering the creation of an African American literary canon and the role of African American literature in creating counternarratives, Henry Louis Gates, Jnr contends, ‘a well-marked anthology functions in the academy to create a tradition, as well as to defend and present it’ (Reference GatesGates, 1992, p.31). Anthologies can, therefore, have a valuable role in expanding the circulation and awareness of literature by authors from socially marginalised groups, particularly racialised (i.e. Black, Indigenous, and People of Colour) authors;Footnote ² literature that has been historically overlooked by traditional publishing in the UK (and the US). The open and flexible nature of the format means that readers can approach the content from different points and make different connections between the texts. Reference BondBond (2019) argues that this makes anthologies a participatory genre and, as such, can be ‘vehicles for collective action’ (p.168). Consequently, this Element explores the social and cultural functions of anthologies in relation to discussions around exclusion and inclusion in the publishing industry, and charts how this has developed over the years.

A [Brief] History of Anthologies

During the Early Modern period, there was a significant movement in literature: from the oral tradition to print culture in Europe, and books as an elite product to a mass-produced commodity (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). Anthologies were a part of this shift. Early anthologies – or miscellanies, as they were more accurately called – were not collected by the quality, or even the content, of the work, but by convenience. Miscellanies have a potted history: booksellers often pieced together remaindered materials – poems, sermons, plays – loosely group by genre or theme. There was no formal structure or formula to these loosely grouped collections: in fact, they were quite haphazard, including anything from two to a hundred pieces of work from one, or dozens of authors (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). These roughly assembled pieces were often in response to the trends and fashions of the day to provide ‘variety and novelty’ (Reference PricePrice, 2000, p.4). The haphazard miscellanies developed into something more commercial after the post-Interregnum society: there was a growing number of writers and readers, and booksellers decided to capitalise on this with printed anthologies. The booksellers were involved in most aspects of the production process: from initiating the process to distributing and adverting the works. Consequently, Reference BenedictBenedict (2003) argues that ‘the story of the anthology in the period is very much a story of booksellers’ innovation’ (p.36).

Booksellers in the mid-sixteenth century created a more commercial marketplace, which was a result of the rise in literacy and a change in the religious and political climate (Reference FeatherFeather, 2006). The term ‘publisher’, as we know it now, was not used until the eighteenth century, and even in the eighteenth century it was used to describe someone who arranged and financed the project. During this period, the term ‘bookseller’ was more commonly used because ‘publishing’ was seen as an additional activity for members of the book trade (Reference SherSher, 2006). The advent of copyright legislation engendered the advent of ‘publishers’ because it reduced the importance of both bookbinders and printers, which enabled the publisher – or the bookseller as they were known then – to become the dominant figure in the book trade (Reference PattersonPatterson, 1968). These booksellers – the early publishers – hired other people to write and print books, so they had to make money elsewhere. The anthology was a genre that profited from copyright. Booksellers could collect works for which they owned the copyright, and repackage them as a new book to maximise profit (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). Additionally, fashionable poets – such as Samuel Johnson and John Gay – were recruited as editors to confer prestige on publications. Booksellers began targeting different audiences with different formats: books were kept at a high price, for wealthy readers, while lower-cost pamphlets were aimed at less wealthy readers (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003).

Anthologies have, historically, had a synergic function; it was, and still is to some extent, a genre in which booksellers/publishers, authors, and readers could collaborate (Reference McKenzie, Finkelstein and McCleeryMcKenzie, 2002). Reference BenedictBenedict (2003, Reference Benedict2015) and Reference CrawfordCrawford (2023) have argued that the collaborative form and function of anthologies can liberate them from rigid structures. As Reference BenedictBenedict (2015) argues, ‘[anthologies] pull language out of legal frameworks and decentralize literary culture […] by their subversive deferral of a central authority’ (p.221). In fact, Reference BenedictBenedict (2015) extols the unifying role of the bookseller:

The literary anthology genre grew and developed during the long eighteenth century to the early Victorian period. The anthology, which offered literary variety, was one of the most important genres for readers and writers by the eighteenth century (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). After a period of censorship, there was a growing number of readers, across social class and genders, in Restoration England (Reference MacLeanMacLean, 1994). By the end of the eighteenth century, anthologies were influential in establishing a British literary canon (Reference BonnellBonnell, 2008). There was a boom in literary anthologies, in the UK, in the mid-nineteenth century. These anthologies, a mix of short stories and poetry, were typically gift books aimed at young women. Such gift books also included annual anthologies, which were important for genre development and raising the visibility of topical writing. These annuals, and short story magazines in general,Footnote ³ were an important source of income for women writers in the nineteenth century (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016). Additionally, literature, as a field of study, was introduced into the British school classroom in the late nineteenth century; so, this period saw anthologies, as a classroom textbook, flourish. In the UK, literary anthologies have been used in mass education more widely since the twentieth century (Reference BantaBanta, 1993). Anthologies based around a specific theme or time period have been used, by secondary and higher educators, to develop pupils/students reading range. For example, the English AssociationFootnote ⁴ published its own anthologies – English Short Stories of Today, to showcase prominent authors – such as H. G. Wells and John Galsworthy – to school pupils. The inclusion of postcolonial authors, such as Chinua Achebe and V.S. Naipaul, in the fourth series published in 1976, showed the new developments in canon-formation (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016).

‘Modern’ anthologies proliferated in the mid-twentieth century; however, there was an uncertainly around their status. Concerns focused on ‘the challenges of narrative experimentation and modernist innovation’ (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016, p.570). In the introduction to Modern English Short Stories 1930–1955 (1956), editor Derek Hudson concluded, ‘this much is certain – that these stories do not derive from a dying art’ (p.xiv). Christopher Dolley, who would take over from Allen Lane as Chairman and Managing Director of Penguin Books in 1969, echoed these sentiments over a decade later. In his editorial foreword to the Penguin Book of English Short Stories, Reference DolleyDolley (1967, p.5) emphasises the focus on modern writing:

Furthermore, he stresses the healthy nature of the genre, ‘The short story still flourishes.’ The disquiet about the genre is reiterated in the foreword to the Second Penguin Book of English Stories, published in 1972, in which Dolley writes (about the multi-language companion editions): ‘their publication has demonstrated that, far from continuing its supposed decline, the short story is enjoying a revival’ (Reference Dolley1972, p.7). However, Hudson and Dolly’s concerns were unfounded: the Penguin Book of English Stories, for example, has been reprinted frequently in the last, almost, fifty years (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016).Footnote ⁵

Much previous scholarship centres upon the type of anthologies where poems, prose, and essays are removed from their original home and placed in a new one, often out of context (Reference Gerson and McMullenGerson, 1989; Reference PacePace, 1992; Reference MujicaMujica, 1997). This type of anthology is often, as Reference GermanoGermano (2001) suggests, ‘unfairly regarded with some disdain, as if the anthology were in itself a middlebrow enterprise, crafted to eliminate the difficult or the provocative’ (p.136). In fact, Reference EpsteinEpstein (2001) goes as far as to say, ‘Anthologies serve no literary purpose, usually find few readers and quickly go out of print’ (p.139–40). However, Reference PricePrice (2000) demonstrates how various literary genres from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, such as the gothic and the epistolary novel, were significantly influenced by readers’ desire to have their components featured in anthologies. This allowed (some) readers to give the impression that they had read the full version of the book – and thus be considered as members of a high-status group – when they had, in fact, simply skimmed the excerpts in an anthology. Furthermore, Price contends that until the twentieth century, a noteworthy work of literature was essentially synonymous with being ‘widely anthologized’ (p. 70).

Canon [and Identity] Formation

Anthologies serve as a means of selecting and presenting a subset of literary works that are believed to be representative of a specific genre, period, culture, or theme (Reference PricePrice, 2000). The act of choosing which works to include and exclude helps shape the perception of what is considered culturally significant and worthy of reading and/or study (Reference GorakGorak, 1991; Reference LauterLauter, 1991; Reference GuilloryGuillory, 1993; Reference Kaplan and RoseKaplan & Rose, 1996). While anthologies of new writing can bring previously unpublished stories, and sometimes authors, into the world, Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott (2016) argues that ‘the canon-forming function of anthologies is most clearly evident when there is a longer historical perspective on the selection’ (p.565). Anthologies are often put together by editors, scholars, or institutions with certain perspectives, biases, and preferences. As gatekeepers of literature, these individuals or groups exert influence over which works are elevated to canonical status. This can impact the visibility and recognition of certain authors and works while excluding others. In fact, Reference KilcupKilcup (2000) argues that ‘composing an anthology creates a miniature canon, no matter how resistant the editor is to vexed notions of goodness and importance’ (p.37). As Reference HopkinsHopkins (2008, p.287) argues, ‘The processes of anthologising, canon-formation, and literary judgement, are intimately bound up one with another.’ Over time, anthologies can change to reflect shifting cultural norms and expanding perspectives. Reference March-RussellMarch-Russell (2009) argues that literary anthologies have played a pivotal role in ‘recording the impact […] of historical movements such as modern feminism, Gay Liberation and post-colonialism’ and thus occupied a central position in the initial cultural discussions concerning questions of identity and representation (p.58). This led to anthologies being part of the ‘canon wars’ that occurred in the US in the 1980s, as Reference PricePrice (2000) notes: ‘the canon wars of the 1980s were fought over anthologies’ tables of contents’ (p.2). There was a tension during this period, Reference GuilloryGuillory (1993) argues, between perceived literary value and ‘representing the consensus of some community, either dominant or subordinate’ (p.29). It was during the 1970s and 1980s that a subset of anthology, focusing on identity-themed new writing by underrepresented voices, began to emerge.Footnote ⁶ New editions of anthologies including underrepresented voices allow for a more expansive canon. This dynamic process can lead to the re-evaluation and expansion of what is considered canonical. Anthologies of new collections of writing can therefore subvert this canon-forming process, or at least help construct new canons, which strengthen and promote a new generation of voices and cultural works. Reference SrivastavaSrivastava (2010) mentions the dual role of anthologies, ‘as much innovators as conservators of the canon and, in many cases, they offer to their readers writing that makes a decisive intervention in society and culture’ (p.162). Social marginalisations – such as social class, race/ethnicity, gender identity, sexuality – find their meanings in particular historical contexts and locations. Anthologies during the twentieth century contributed to the development of inclusion, diversity, and identity-formation, challenged the canon, and continue to this day.

Anthologies Today

Contemporary anthologies continue to reflect the evolving literary and cultural landscape. Digital technology has transformed the way anthologies are created and distributed. Online platforms allow for more immediate and widespread access, whilst the internet and social media have also enabled collaborative and crowdsourced anthologies, where a diverse range of voices can contribute and shape the content. These technological changes have helped to democratise the anthology process and challenges traditional notions of authority and expertise.

Anthologies that centred around new writing increased in popularity in the twenty-first century. In the UK, some of these were linked to literary prizes, such as the Bristol Short Story Prize, while others are published on an annual basis, such as Salt Publishing’s Best British Short Stories series (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016).Footnote ⁷ The importance of such anthologies cannot be overstated. Boyd Tonkin’s review, of the 2013 edition, said, ‘This [the Salt Best British Short Stories series] annual feast satisfies again. Time and again, in Royle’s crafty editorial hands, closely observed normality yields (as Nikesh Shukla’s spear-fisher grasps) to the things we “cannot control”’ (Salt, 2023). The reason this review quotation was chosen, over many others, was because Nikesh Shukla – whose short story ‘Canute’ appeared in the 2013 edition – has played an important role in the rise of anthologies by BPOC authors in the UK since 2016. Shukla is now a prominent member of the UK literary scene and has acknowledged how inclusion in his first anthology, and the support of other BPOC authors, were ‘responsible’ for the launch of his career (see Chapter 3). He has written and published six books since this 2013 anthology. It is interesting to note that Shukla wrote and published several short stories before ‘Canute’ but has not been as prolific a short-story writer since his rise to literary prominence. We might infer, from this, that the short story is a form that is most beneficial to new and emerging authors; something that is explored in more depth in Chapter 3.

British Multicultural Anthologies

As Chapters 2 and 3 will demonstrate, there has been a spate of anthologies that look at different identities in recent years: in particular, multi-genre anthologies by marginalised people are on the rise. This is counter to some of the more traditional anthologies whose focus on traditional aesthetics, including genre, works against marginalised authors (Reference LauterLauter, 2004). Collections of short stories by BPOC British authors, or even the inclusion of BPOC authors in anthologies, have been scarce. For example, the Oxford Book of English Short Stories, edited by A.S. Byatt, does not feature any BPOC British authors (Reference Prescott and HeadPrescott, 2016).

Formerly independent, Birmingham-based publisher Tindal Street Press was responsible for publishing some influential anthologies in the 2000s, publishing new voices alongside established authors.Footnote ⁸ Whispers in the Walls (2001), edited by Leone Ross and Yvonne Brissett, for example, concentrated on new Black and Asian voices from Birmingham in a time where these voices – Black, Asian, and regional – were a particular rarity in publishing. Projects such as this, and the subsequent anthologies (by Tindal Street) like Mango Shake (2006) edited by Debjani Chatterjee and Too Asian, Not Asian Enough (2011) edited by Kavita Bhanot, bring attention to less-well-known, regional, authors and differently positioned subjectivities in addition to allowing diasporic self-representation, beyond the exoticising gaze of imagined mainstream audiences. For example, Too Asian, Not Asian Enough is a precursor to many of the subsequent British anthologies, such as A Change Is Gonna Come, which look at experiences beyond the stereotypes. As the editor Kavita Reference BhanotBhanot (2011a), mentions in the foreword:

Reference BhanotBhanot (2011a) argues that this has ‘become a cliché dominating British Asian narratives. It has become “a bankable, marketable formula” (p.ix), and it is stifling to a new generation of writers who don’t want to conform to its conventions’. Reference Saha and Van LenteSaha and van Lente (2022) describe the paradoxical nature of this racialising logic, which positions BIPOC authors using these clichéd themed and problem-based narratives, that Bhanot outlines, to sell more books. However, not only do these stereotypical narratives stifle new authors, as Bhanot states, but it also pushes these titles out of the mainstream and into niche interest categories (Reference Saha and Van LenteSaha & van Lente, 2022).

Reference BhanotBhanot (2011b) describes the duality BPOC British authors face,

Reference BhanotBhanot (2011b) noted that contributors to the anthology ‘seemed to relish the freedom the anthology gave them’. Consequently, the stories within this anthology cover a wide range of topics, set in different parts of the world, such as a cocaine-fuelled party in London (Nikesh Shukla/‘Iron Nose’) and hair collecting in a European village (Niven Govinden/‘La Coiffeuse’). Anthologies play a crucial role in shaping and strengthening communities for underrepresented authors: this will be explored further in Chapter 3. Through these Tindal Street anthologies, we begin to see a community of BPOC British authors forming, with each new anthology adding new authors into the community.Footnote ⁹ The collaborative nature of multi-authored books, such as anthologies, reflects a collective commitment to change. Collaborating on a multi-authored anthology can foster a sense of community among the authors and their readers. By working together towards a common goal, authors build solidarity, mutual support, and collective resilience. This sense of community can extend beyond the pages of the book, as we will see in the discussion about crowdfunding, inspiring readers to become more actively involved in activist efforts and grassroots movements. Nikesh Shukla, as noted earlier, began contributing to such anthologies and, in recent years, has made a major contribution to their resurgence, in the UK, through editing The Good Immigrant (2016).

The success of The Good Immigrant anthology, could be in part responsible for the rise in popularity of anthologies in the British publishing industry. The Good Immigrant, is a collection of twenty-one essays by BPOC British artists, comedians, writers, academics, professionals, and journalists, who speak about their experiences of being othered in their own country. The essays explore the examination of a British national culture and national identity entangled in a state of nostalgia linked to British imperialism. A prevalent theme running through these essays is how BPOC authors must emphasise their racial identities for the benefit of their (often predominantly white) readers because of the construction of a supposedly universal white experience. On the opposite side to this, demonstrating the impact of whiteness as a default on young people, Darren Chetty’s ‘You Can’t Say That! Stories Have to Be about White People’ highlights the serious issue of BPOC children not seeing themselves as the protagonists in stories. Numerous essays address the fallacies surrounding the concept of the Asian ‘model minority’ and the oversimplified portrayal of a monolithic Black identity. For example, in ‘Beyond “Good” Immigrants’, Wei Ming Kam surmises that ‘being a model minority is code for being on perpetual probation’ (p. 95). While Reni Eddo-Lodge, author of the bestselling Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, outlines,

The impact of The Good Immigrant has been widespread. Not only did its publication lead to the launch of The Good Journal, a crowdfunded literary magazine, but it also resulted in the establishment of The Good Literary Agency, a social enterprise literary agency that centres on authors from underrepresented groups. The influence also extended beyond the UK, when The Good Immigrant USA was published in 2019. Additionally, how The Good Immigrant came to be published highlighted a new reader-/audience-led publishing model, since it was a publication crowdfunded through Unbound (a UK-based crowdfunding publisher). Crowdfunding can provide important opportunities for BIPOC authors, who face systemic barriers in accessing traditional sources of funding for creative projects including publishing. Platforms and publishers such as Unbound provide an alternative avenue for raising capital without relying on traditional gatekeepers, who may have biases or limited understanding of BIPOC narratives and perspectives. Crowdfunding, therefore, allows BIPOC authors to maintain autonomy and creative control over their projects. Instead of conforming to the preferences or expectations of traditional publishers, creators can directly engage with their audience and produce works that authentically represent their experiences, cultures, and voices. Reference BondBond (2019) argues, therefore, that The Good Immigrant is an example of ‘the anthologising impulse of this sort of collective, participatory action’ (p.171). In fact, the anthology reached its crowdfunding target in three days, in part due to the visibility of donations from authors such as J.K. Rowling, David Nicholls, Jonathan Coe, and Evie Wyld (Reference LeaLea, 2015). Crowdfunding can, therefore, turn passive reader-consumers into empowered investors in the arts (or ‘fanvestors’, as Reference Galuszka and BystrovGaluszka & Bystrov (2014) describe them), who are largely motivated by the symbolic capital of being part of an ‘early-adopter’ community (Reference Gehring, Wittkower, Bennett, Chin and JonesGehring & Wittkower, 2015).Footnote ¹⁰ Crowdfunding can also be a form of ‘commodity activism’ where consumers invest in commodities to participate in social justice movements (Reference Mukherjee and Banet-WeiserMukherjee & Banet-Weiser, 2012).

As noted, The Good Immigrant came at an important time in the ‘diversity’ conversation in the United Kingdom, when authors (including Shukla) were tiring of diversity initiatives and panels that brought about no discernible change. It was also published in a tumultuous period in the UK, during the United Kingdom European Union membership referendum, where questions about national identity and Britishness were at the fore. The culture wars – the tensions between conservative and progressive – worldviews came to a head during this period, and British society has become increasingly divided since. Immigrants and ‘race’/ethnicity more generally have been central to the culture wars (Reference Duffy, Hewlett and MurkinDuffy et al., 2021). Like other contemporary anthologies, The Good Immigrant attempts to revise and reshape national identity; this is reminiscent of anthologies, and some of the tensions, in the past. According to both Reference PricePrice (2000) and Reference BenedictBenedict (2015), early anthologies attempted to create a national literary identity. In the US, the proliferation of anthologies in the nineteenth century was a reaction to the overarching belief that there was no American Literature since the market over-relied on imports from the UK (Reference Gailey, Belasco, Gaul, Johnson and SotoGailey, 2020). While, as noted earlier, scholars have made the link between the ‘canon wars’ in the 1980s and 1990s, and the rise in more representative and expansive anthologies (Reference GuilloryGuillory, 1993; Reference Bona and MillerBona, 2017).

The publication of The Good Immigrant, and its predecessors, have given rise to a wealth of British anthologies by BPOC authors, focusing on different ethnicities, genres, and topics. These include The Things I Would Tell You: British Muslim Women Write (2017), Voices of the Windrush Generation: The Real Story Told by the People Themselves (2020), Cut from the Same Cloth?: Muslim Women on Life in Britain (2021), Black British Lives Matter (2022), and East Side Voices: Essays Celebrating East and Southeast Asian Identity in Britain (2022). In recent years, there has been a noticeable rise in the publication of YA anthologies, particularly by authors whose work and or identities fall outside the boundaries of the mainstream (Reference JensenJensen, 2020; Reference GrochowskiGrochowski, 2021). YA fiction offers a rich and dynamic case study for exploring issues of exclusion due to its wide-ranging target audience (from adolescents to adult readers), growing emphasis on authenticity and representation, exploration of social issues, and evolution as a field of literature. Drawing upon the histories outlined in Chapter 1, the rising trend for YA anthologies is examined and analysed in greater detail in Chapter 2.

The Rise of Inclusive YA Anthologies

YA anthologies have been in existence for decades. Like most trends, however, their popularity has fluctuated, with a resurgence over the last few years. Since the early 2000s, there was a proliferation of YA anthologies – collections of short stories – that centred around a single topic. The bulk of these collections feature short fictional stories around a particular theme, ranging from prom dates to beauty, from friendships to geekiness, and from LGBTQIA+ stories to stories that targeted specifically gendered readers. Unlike anthologies of the past, recent YA anthologies do not consecrate or canonise YA authors. Some, like A Change Is Gonna Come, have demonstrated the unequal conditions of literary production that perpetuates the current literary system. While others, like the ones highlighted later in this chapter, celebrate a diverse range of authors and writing across a multitude of topics and genres. There has been a clear growth in the presence of protagonists and authors from socially marginalised groups in/writing YA over the last decade (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2021). These stories have, particularly in the last few years, began to evolve from ‘issue books’ to more complex and nuanced stories in a variety of forms and genres, for example, The Poet X by Elizabeth Acevedo, the Heartstopper series by Alice Oseman, Pet by Akwaeke Emezi, Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me by Mariko Tamaki, The Black Flamingo by Dean Atta, Cinderella Is Dead by Kalynn Bayron, Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating by Adiba Jaigirdar, And the Stars Were Burning Brightly by Danielle Jawando, and Some Like It Cold by Elle McNicoll (to name a few). This expansion means that we are also beginning to see more hybrid and intersectional identities, with a much wider spectrum of characters. The examples and very brief histories detailed in the rest of this chapter are simply a snapshot to illustrate the broader concepts and trends under discussion in this Element.

Queer Anthologies

Many anthologies have a particular angle or focus, such as sexuality and sexual identity. These emerging LGBTQIA+ narratives are counter to earlier depictions of queer people in books and the media, where most queer characters were secondary and used to forward the journey of the heterosexual protagonist. As Reference BanksBanks (2009) outlines:

Although depictions began to proliferate in the 1970s and 1980s, with a growing number of queer protagonists, Jenkins (1998) found that these characters fell into a very narrow demographic and that stereotypical stories abounded: ‘the majority of the titles reinforced social stereotypes of the generic gay person as an urban middle-class white male who is educated, involved in the arts, and likely to encounter hardships directly related to antigay prejudice’ (p.300). Things began to improve in the 1990s, with inclusion of a wider range of sexualities and gender identities being portrayed (Reference WickensWickens, 2011). However, these depictions were often simplistic and, as we will shortly in this chapter, still fell under the realm of the problem novel (Reference BanksBanks, 2009). Most of these anthologies, particularly those published in the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, were published in the US and featured US authors. In the UK, Section 28 – a 12- to 15-year-old piece of legislation enacted by the Conservative government in 1988 – prohibited the promotion of homosexuality in schools and local authorities, effectively censoring discussion and representation of LGBTQIA+ topics in education and public institutions (Reference SimpsonSimpson, 2020). Consequently, Section 28 impacted the types of books published for children and young people in the UK and, relevant to this chapter, inhibited the growth of Queer UKYA until the legislation was repealed in 2000 (in Scotland) and 2003 (in England and Wales) (Reference SimpsonSimpson, 2021).

Reference JensenJensen (2020) identifies Am I Blue? Coming Out From The Silence, edited by Marion Dane Bauer and published in 1995, as one of the earliest YA anthologies. This anthology, which features well-known US authors such as Jacqueline Woodson, Francesca Lia Block, and Lesléa Newman, centres on the experiences of gay and lesbian teenagers or those with gay or lesbian parents. Queer 13, edited by Clifford Chase, followed shortly afterwards in 1998. This collection of autobiographical essays details the contributors’ – including Jacqueline Woodson, David Bergman, and Rebecca Walker – experiences of being lesbian and gay thirteen-year-olds. Such anthologies coincided with, in the US, the public’s changing attitudes towards the lesbian and gay community, instigated by the nation’s youth, and an increase in the number of lesbian and gay television characters (Reference SeidmanSeidman, 2002; Reference Savin-WilliamsSavin-Williams, 2005; Reference GarretsonGarretson, 2018). It was during the 1990s that coming out as a concept and process created a new publishing phenomenon: self-help books to help guide and advise people in the LGBTQIA+ community, and also their family, friends, co-workers, educators, and so on, through the coming out process (Reference JohnsonJohnson, 1997; Reference Savin-WilliamsSavin-Williams, 2001; Reference SullivanSullivan, 2003).

Many of the stories in the two aforementioned anthologies focus on the coming out narrative, a type of story that emerged in the 1970s that has been prevalent in literature, film, and other media since (Reference Cart and JenkinsCart & Jenkins, 2006; Reference SaxeySaxey, 2008; Reference BobkerBobker, 2015; Abate, 2017). Dane Bauer, outlines in her introduction of Am I Blue? Coming Out from The Silence, that ‘One out of ten teenagers attempts suicide […] One out of three of those does so because of concern about being homosexual’ (1995, p.2), so reading an anthology of coming out stories can be comforting and empowering for young queer readers. However, coming out narratives can also be othering, and dictated by heterosexuality, as Barker argues, ‘[p]eople wouldn’t have to come out if heterosexuality wasn’t the assumed norm’ (Reference BarkerBarker, 2016, p.92). Reference RoofRoof (1996) describes coming out stories as ‘folktales’, considering them as formulaic and serving a particular social purpose. She argues that for lesbian characters, this type of plot can be very restrictive: ‘Why is the story always the same? […] While for lesbian cultures the coming out story might be liberating, in a more inclusive cultural picture it limits the potential roles and functions of lesbian characters’ (Reference RoofRoof, 1996, p.xxvi). According to Reference Cart and JenkinsCart and Jenkins(2006), the earliest LGBTQIA+ (at the time, typically gay and lesbian) YA books were usually issue books/problem novels, that centred on ‘a character who has not previously been considered gay/lesbian comes out either voluntarily or involuntarily’ (p.xiv). This established homosexuality as something negative that it was ‘dangerous to be queer, one is punished for being queer, queer relationships are bound to end badly, being queer is just a phase, and so forth’ (Reference Cart, Kaywell, Paula, Brooke and KaywellCart & Kaywell, 2018, p.2). Both anthologies were written close to thirty years ago, so some of the topics and tropes in the stories are outdated and problematic (Reference Cart and JenkinsCart & Jenkins, 2006). For example, the representation of different sexualities is limited, there is biphobia in some of the stories (e.g. in ‘Am I Blue’/Bruce Coville), and, as noted, many of the stories contain outdated tropes (e.g. the ‘Bury Your Gays’ trope in ‘Hands’/Jonathan London, the gay teacher dies from AIDS). There are also violent incidents of homophobia is several of the stories (e.g. the main character Vince in ‘Am I Blue’/Bruce Coville is ‘gaybashed’ by the school bully); these, as Reference CrispCrisp (2009) writes, ‘use homophobia as the foil against which characters with non-normative sexual identities struggle in order to find happiness’ (p.335–336). This, again, links Queer YA to the sphere of problem novels where the protagonist’s sexuality is an ‘issue’. While homophobia, and bullying and violence related to homophobia, are something that many young queer people experience, Reference BanksBanks (2009) summarises why these one-dimensional representations can be damaging, ‘While these conflicts may be “realistic,” they are also reductive when rendered as a canon of available literature, suggesting that the experiences of being queer are only about these personal conflicts, not about larger issues or more complex experiences with the world’ (p.35). Scholars of YA have since written about the impact of such negative tropes on contemporary YA, despite there being more Queer YA – showcasing a broader spectrum of queer identities – now than ever before (see, for example: Reference KiddKidd, 1998; Reference BanksBanks, 2009; Reference CrispCrisp, 2009; Reference Cart, Kaywell, Paula, Brooke and KaywellCart & Kaywell, 2018; Reference DuckelsDuckels, 2021; Reference HendersonHenderson, 2021; Reference MasonMason, 2021; Reference MatosMatos, 2021; Reference SimpsonSimpson, 2021).

As the field of YA grew and developed in the 2000s, so did the number of anthologies. It was during the first decade of the 2000s that Queer YA had ‘begun to move – as have many of the individual titles that comprise it – toward assimilation; moving, that is, from being an isolated or “ghettoized” subgenre to becoming a more integrated part of the total body of young adult literature’ (Reference Cart and JenkinsCart & Jenkins, 2006, p.128). This was also happening alongside the rise in popularity of television programmes that centred on gay, typically white, men such as Will and Grace and Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Although these programmes were very popular and watched widely – Will and Grace had a larger viewing audience than The Simpsons at one point – Reference CrispCrisp (2009) argues that, ‘Rather than “mainstream” acceptance of non-normative sexual identities, these representations of gay characters are frequently molded to fit into a heteronormative frame’ (p.334). This, alongside some of the issues from earlier Queer YA anthologies, was present in YA anthologies published during this period. David Levithan played an important role in the development of Queer YA, in his groundbreaking book Boy Meets Boy, which, Crisp argues, ‘constructs a world of possibilities beyond heteronormativity’ (Reference Crisp2009, p.340). Levithan also spearheaded numerous Queer YA anthologies during this period, such as editing The Full Spectrum: A New Generation of Writing about Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, and Other Identities (Reference Cart and Jenkins2006). While this multi-genre anthology – showcasing essays, journal entries, poems, and photographs – purports to explore different identities within the LGBTQIA+ community, it focuses predominantly on gay, lesbian, and transgender stories. Like other Queer YA at the time, many of the stories ‘rely upon homophobia and homophobic discourse to provide readers with a sense of “realism”’ (Reference CrispCrisp, 2009, p.339). However, this, and other anthologies edited by Levithan, showcase the creativity of young people: this particular anthology includes writing by forty young people (under 24) from the LGBTQIA+ community. In collaboration with PUSH Scholastic, Levithan also published three anthologies (2002, 2005, 2008) showcasing YA authors within the imprint.

Although some of the earlier Queer YA anthologies included BIPOC authors and thus showcased a broader queer experience, many of the stories were very US-centric. While this (US focus) is still, for the most part, the case, more recent Queer YA anthologies include more varieties of sexuality and gender identities. Three anthologies, edited by US author Saundra Mitchell, were published in quick succession as a companion trilogy of sorts: All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens throughout the Ages (Reference Mitchell2018); Out Now: Queer We Go Again! (Reference Mitchell2020); and Out There: Into the Queer New Yonder (Reference Mitchell2022). All Out puts queer people in different periods throughout history – from 1300s England (‘Every Shade of Red’/Elliot Wake; a transgender Robin Hood retelling) to the most recent turn of the millennium in Boston, US (‘The End of the World as We Know It’/Sara Farizan; set during New Year’s Eve with Y2K panic looming). While trying to represent the wider spectrum of sexualities, the anthology mostly centres on cis-gendered, LGB characters. The anthology does, however, include a story – ‘And They Don’t Kiss at the End’ by Nilah Magruder – about a Black teenager understanding her asexuality, in the 1970s, when she does not have the language to describe how she is feeling. However, Dee, the protagonist, does accept her identity in the end saying, ‘I like what I like and I don’t like what I don’t. I have nothing to apologize for.’ The importance of this anthology is the representation of queer people in historical fiction. Reference BravmannBravmann (1997) argues that historical narratives have a powerful social, cultural, and political role in helping queer people construct their identities and creating collective and individual meaning. Although queer people have been in existence throughout history, LGBTQIA+ history is often hidden, constrained, or erased due to repressive social attitudes and criminal persecution. For example, despite discriminatory legislation such as the ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ (DADT) in the US, transgender people (in addition to other people from the LGBTQIA+ community), as Reference WhittWhitt (2022) argues, ‘have always served in military organizations’ (p.15).Footnote ¹³ Reference BrownBrown (1988) found that transgender solders enlisted in the military for numerous reasons, including unhappy homelives and as a way of ‘purging their cross-gender identifications’ (p. 535). This type of history is written about in ‘Roja’ by Anna-Marie McLemore, one of the stories in All Out. Set in nineteenth-century Mexico, the protagonist’s love interest, León, is a trans soldier and prison of war. Aligning with Reference BrownBrown’s (1988) findings, León is not openly trans to his fellow soldiers:

The follow-on anthology, Out Now: Queer We Go Again, has more of a contemporary focus, with some speculative fiction, and a wider representation of ethnicities, sexualities, and body types. While it also features mostly LGB characters there are more non-binary, asexual, and demi-sexual characters than its predecessor. The anthology also includes contributions by two trans authors – Meredith Russo (‘The Coronation’) and Fox Benwell (‘Once Upon a Seastorm’) – whose stories feature trans characters. Intersectionality is more of a theme in this second instalment, for example ‘Floating’/Tanya Boteju is a romance story about a neurodivergent teenager. In comparison, All Out, Out Now also includes stories that may be relatable to teenagers today; for example, Mark Oshiro’s ‘Refresh’ explores how we represent ourselves in photographs online, especially in the context of dating and romance. The conclusion to the trilogy Out There: Into the Queer New Yonder centres on speculative fiction narratives: all the stories are set in the future. Additionally, there is a wider spectrum of identities, and intersectional identities, in this final collection in comparison to the first two, for example more BIPOC, trans, non-binary, asexual, and demi-sexual characters. For example, ‘Nick and Bodhi’/Naomi Kanakia features an Indian trans woman as the main character and ‘Fractal Eyes’/Ugochi M. Agoawike features a Black non-binary protagonist. The combination of the different identities, the genres, and the diversity of the authorship (which is discussed in more depth later in this chapter) showcases how Queer YA anthologies have evolved over the years.

There have also been numerous other Queer YA anthologies published in recent years – and more general YA anthologies that feature queer characters, some explored later in this chapter – which have contributed to the development of the genre. Most of these, including the aforementioned anthologies, have a North American (mostly US) focus. In the UK, which has a different history with queer books for children and young people because of Section 28, the most prominent Queer YA anthology is Proud (2019) edited by Juno Dawson. Dawson establishes the mood to the anthology, in her foreword, when she outlines the political backdrop in which many queer people in the UK have grown up. Section 28 of the Local Government Act 1988 stated that local authorities (thus including schools and libraries): ‘shall not intentionally promote homosexuality […] or promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship’ (legislation.gov.uk, 1988). Proud brings together a predominantly British cast of authors and illustrators and most of the stories are set in the UK and Ireland, so the anthology really adds to the growing body of British Queer YA stories.

Race and Ethnicity

The historical marginalisation of BIPOC authors and characters has perpetuated a racialised cultural hierarchy within the US and UK publishing industries (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019a). This issue is also prevalent in YA books and authorship. For example, despite many initiatives, conversations, and conference panels, BPOC British YA (UKYA) authors are still not visible in the bestseller charts, prominent books festivals, and prestigious literary prizes (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2021). This cultural imbalance affects aspiring and emerging authors, trying to break into the market; however, it also impacts established midlist authors, who, despite being undervalued, prop up an industry that is focused on bestsellers. Chapter 3 explores this issue in more depth – through a case study of a UKYA anthology – however, this chapter highlights some of the prominent multicultural YA anthologies that have been published in recent years. Many of these, as will be explored later in this chapter, introduce, or expand upon, important concepts and issues for the young, and not-so-young, reader.

Issues of racism, discrimination, and prejudice feature in many of the YA Anthologies written by BIPOC authors, as they do in YA books (by BIPOC authors) in general.Footnote ¹⁴ This is unsurprising, given the growing white supremacy movement and its return to mainstream politics (Reference WilsonWilson, 2020). In the ‘Global North’, there has been a rise in Xenophobia and anti-Immigrant sentiment in recent years (Reference Kopyciok and SilverKopyciok & Silver, 2021). In the UK, post-the 2016 EU referendum and Brexit, hate crimes – including harassment, assault, and violence – have increased significantly, with the negative rhetoric being amplified by the British Conservative government’s hostile immigration policies, including a ‘Draconian’ new ‘Illegal Migration Bill’ (Reference TaylorTaylor, 2023; Reference Williams, Sutherland and Roy-ChowdhuryWilliams et al., 2023). Elsewhere in Europe, the growing animosity towards immigrants and immigration has led to the far right gaining prominence in local and national governments. For example, Giorgia Meloni, a far-right, Populist politician, became Italy’s Prime Minister in 2022, using an anti-immigration stance to mobilise support, while some Scandinavian countries, such as Denmark and Sweden, have seen a rise in Islamophobia (also prevalent in countries such as France and Poland) and have been changing their immigration policies to make their countries less attractive to migrants (Reference Bailey-Morley and KumarBailey-Morley & Kumar, 2022; Reference MourlaneMourlane, 2023). In the US, Donald Trump’s presidency helped to mainstream far and extreme right – repacked as ‘alt-right’ – politics. Central to Trump’s and, more broadly, the Republican’s anti-immigrant rhetoric was the idea that immigrants crossing the (Southern) border pose a threat to the safety of US citizens (Reference Finley and EspositoFinley & Esposito, 2020). Trump famously launched his presidential campaign by highlighting – in numerous ‘explicitly xenophobic, anti-immigrant, racist’ rants – the perceived dangers posed by Mexican immigrants to the US (Reference VereaVerea, 2018). It is unsurprising, therefore, that the immigrant experience is one that is often explored in books for adults and young people (Reference BondBond, 2019; Reference PrestonPreston, 2019). However, these stories have not always been told from an authentic perspective, as can be seen from the backlash surrounding American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins (a white, US author). While this is an example from adult fiction, rather than YA, it typifies how racialised stereotypes still uphold white supremacy both intra- and extra-textually.Footnote ¹⁵ American Dirt is about a Mexican bookseller who must flee Mexico after her family is murdered by a drugs cartel; she ends up as an ‘illegal’ immigrant in the US. Since its publication it has received much criticism for being racist, xenophobic, and for perpetuating negative stereotypes about Mexican people, with critics calling it ‘trauma porn’ (Reference GradyGrady, 2020; Reference Sánchez PradoSánchez Prado, 2021; Reference ShapiroShapiro, 2021). Reference Sánchez PradoSánchez Prado (2021) argues that, apart from ‘the misrepresentation and commodification of Mexico in the book’s form and construction’, one of the issues was the publishers’ ‘aim to capitalize on a growing Latinx market and on the political visibility of the questions of immigration […] while keeping the mainstream white audience constituting the publisher’s core customer base’ (p.372).Footnote ¹⁶ Books like American Dirt, Sánchez Prado surmises, that look at the experience of immigration through a white gaze are:

It is, therefore, critical to counter these tokenistic, stereotypical, and inauthentic depictions with a wider range of stories and perspectives that give a more nuanced and complex understanding of the different immigration experiences.

Come On In: 15 Stories about Immigration and Finding Home (2021), edited by Adi Alsaid, tackles the emotional complexities of immigration from a variety of perspectives. The stories are all written by authors who are immigrants or the children of immigrants and showcases far-reaching immigration experiences, although most of these stories are about immigration to the US. As it says at the start of the book, ‘The immigrant story is not one story. It is a collection’ (p.ii). The stories do not shy away from some of the more brutal elements of migration: in ‘The Curandera and the Alchemist’/Maria E. Andreu, we see the fear that law enforcement related to immigration – in this case, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) – can instil and how they can tear families apart; in ‘The Trip’/Sona Charaipotra we see the humiliation people feel when they are detained and treated as criminals – in this case, like terrorists – because of the colour of their skin; and the painfulness of saying goodbye to loved ones, as Nafiza Azad notes in her story, ‘All the Colors of Goodbye’:

However, not all the anthologies are based on painful experiences of displacement but give wider perspectives on being on being young and BIPOC in the world today. Color Outside the Lines (2019), edited by Sangu Mandanna, is a multi-genre anthology that focuses on different types of interracial relationships and the challenges associated with them. The stories in the anthology are situated around the world – from Mexico to India to the US – and do not solely focus on romance, in fact there are several different genres in this anthology including science fiction, fantasy, and historical fiction. Themes within the book vary too: while racism is not the core component of the stories, discrimination and bigotry do, unsurprisingly, come up as themes. For example, ‘Your Life Matters’/L.L. McKinney, which is a superhero narrative set during the Black Lives Matter movement, inverts the side-kick trope by having a Black, superhero protagonist with her white, side-kick of a girlfriend, whilst also exploring police brutality and anti-Black racism. While ‘Sandwiched in Between’ by Eric Smith brings up the problem with colour-evasiveness and unconscious prejudices, with Michael, the protagonist telling his Brown-skinned girlfriend Amina, ‘We don’t even see color in my family, you know?’ (p.222). In ‘Something Gay and Magical’, Adam Silvera takes the opportunity to explicitly provide commentary about the importance of joyful LGBTQIA+ representation in books, whilst also referring to the problem with ‘issue’ books:

Oliver’s, the protagonist, interaction with Winter, his dark-brown-skinned love interest, also leads him to question his own white privilege:

We Need Diverse Books (WNDB) have also released anthologies, in response to their movement, and in celebration of multicultural YA and authors. In the same vein as Change book, the case study in Chapter 3, these anthologies were run as competitions and include both established and emerging authors. So far, there have been five WNDB-affiliated anthologies: three aimed at a middle-grade audience and two aimed at a YA audience. Their first YA anthology, Fresh Ink (2018) edited by Lamar Giles, brings together some prominent USYA authors such as Jason Reynolds, Nicola Yoon, and Malinda Lo. In the introduction, the editor, Lamar Giles, outlines his own experience of growing to dislike books, despite being a voracious reader, due to the lack of Black characters in books.

The anthology was born out of a desire to change these narratives and includes work by a range of BIPOC authors from different heritages and backgrounds.Footnote ¹⁷ It shies away from the problem novel genres that have been imposed on BIPOC authors for decades (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019a). While issues of racism do come up in the stories, they are not problem narratives; they are simply parts of the characters’ lives, in the same way that it is part of most BIPOC’s lives. For example, ‘Don’t Pass Me By’/Eric Gansworth, which follows Hubert an Indigenous American boy going to school outside of the Reservation, provides important commentary on how the North American school system treats Indigenous people and how whiteness is treated as the default. In one scene, a teacher provides two pencil colours – ‘Flesh and Burnt Sienna’ (p.50) – for an activity where the students must colour in an image of a boy and label the body parts. Hubert uses the Burnt Sienna – which was allocated for pubic and underarm hair – to colour in the skin and his black pen for the hair. In response, the following interaction occurs between Hubert and the teacher:

‘One Voice: A Something In-Between Story’/Melissa de la Cruz is also about students, this time at university-level, being treated differently because of the colour of their skin. For example, Yen-Yen (the main character) details the experience of walking alone, at night, as a woman of colour, ‘I wouldn’t have been thinking about anything except for my safety. I would have been tracking each of those blue emergency phones across the quad, calculating just how far I would have to run to reach one if someone were to attack me’ (p.139).

Most of the stories are contemporary fiction – with romance at the core – but there are some elements of other genres including sci-fi and fantasy. Malinda Lo bridges these themes in ‘Meet Cute’, which sees Tamia, a Black girl dressed as Agent Scully (X-Files), and Nic, an Asian girl dressed as a gender-bent Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu (Star Trek), meeting and forming an attraction during a black-out at a Comic-con. During their time together the two girls talk about racism and sexism in geek culture – particularly how women of colour are treated. This type of sexism is introduced early in the story when a male attendee states, ‘I hate it when girls think they can cosplay men […] It always looks so lame’ (p.15). In the US, where the story is set, geek culture is associated with white people and spaces such as comic conventions are mostly made up of white men (Reference JenkinsJenkins, 2012; Reference Flowers and LaneFlowers, 2018). Furthermore, the kinds of racism and sexism explored in ‘Meet Cute’ are prevalent in cosplaying, for example, Black cosplayers being told ‘that character isn’t Black’ (Reference JenkinsJenkins, 2020, p.158). As such, stories such as ‘Meet Cute’ are a powerful act of resistance to the whiteness of mainstream and geek culture alike. When people of colour cross racial boundaries through cosplay as white characters, they are challenging the literature and media that often marginalise them. This transformative act subverts the conventional portrayal of white (men and women) characters, highlighting the possibility that many of these characters could have been portrayed as people of colour. It serves as a revolutionary statement, reclaiming representation and visibility.

While the first WNDB anthology forefronts the voices of BIPOC authors, the second anthology looks at diversity more broadly focusing on gender identity, sexuality, ‘race’/ethnicity, disability, and religion. A Universe of Wishes: A We Need Diverse Books Anthology (Reference Clayton2021) edited by Dhonielle Clayton features fifteen short stories in the speculative fiction genre; a genre that, as will be discussed later in this chapter, is going through an overhaul in terms of representation and inclusion. As part of this, A Universe of Wishes includes stories set in both new and already established worlds. Folktales and fairytales, which are typically a part of a nation’s cultural heritage, are reimagined through different perspectives. By reimagining these stories, the authors contribute to the promotion of a broader range of cultural narratives, ensuring that certain histories are not overlooked or lost over time and that the cultural richness and diversity within a nation are represented. (Reference HaaseHaase, 2010). For example, ‘Cristal Y Ceniza’/Anne-Marie McLemore is a queer reimagining of Cinderella, where the main character – a daughter with two mothers – travels to a neighbouring palace to appeal to the Royal Family to provide refuge for families affected by anti-same-sex-partnership rules in her homeland. In doing so, she attracts the attention of the Prince, who is trans; an accepted identity in his homeland:

Rapunzel is also reimagined in Zoraida Córdova’s ‘Longer than the Threads of Time’. Set in modern-day New York City, in the world of Córdova’s Brooklyn Brujas series, the story follows Danaë, a girl who has been imprisoned in a magical tower in Central Park for decades. This is not the only story that uses familiar characters and/or worlds: ‘A Royal Affair’/V.E. Schwab is set in the A Darker Shade of Magic universe and explores the romance between two of the characters, Rhy Maresh and Alucard Emery and ‘The Scarlet Woman’/Libba Bray is set in the same work as the author’s Gemma Doyle trilogy.

Many YA anthologies centre around a different ethnic group or geographic region. Wild Tongues Can’t Be Tamed: 15 Voices from the Latinx Diaspora (Reference Fennell2021), edited by Saraciea J. Fennell is, according to the author Zoraida Córdova, a ‘raw and unapologetic collection of essays and poetry that dismantle stereotypes about people from the Latin American diaspora’ (Reference MacmillanMacmillan, 2023). Most of the authors in the collection are Afro-Latine/Black, and/or Indigenous; a group of people that are often ignored or erased from narratives Latine history and people (Reference FloresFlores, 2021). Anti-Blackness and colourism are themes covered by several of the essays in this anthology, as Fennell writes in her own essay, ‘Half In, Half Out: Orbiting a World Full of People of Color’: ‘Everyone is conditioned to view Black people as if we don’t matter. Even among the Black community, society finds ways to pit us against each other, from colorism to the critiquing of our hair, our bodies, and so forth’ (para. 1). In ‘Cuban Imposter Syndrome’/Zakiya N. Jamal, the author grapples with her own internalised anti-Blackness, and the stereotypes imposed on her, in addition to her experiences of being in a predominantly white Latine setting. Terminology, language, identities, and practices are interrogated in the essays and conversations about intersectionality are forefront. For example, as Janel Martinez addresses in ‘Abuela’s Greatest Gift’:

This approach ensures that heterogeneous experiences are presented. A more recent anthology, Magic Has No Borders (Reference Charaipotra and Ahmed2023), edited by Sona Charaipotra and Samira Ahmed, focuses on fantasy and science fiction stories by fourteen authors from the South Asian diaspora, showcasing the diversity of the region. The stories in the anthologies mix South Asian (mostly Hindu but some Muslim) mythology, folklore, and legends, with more contemporary YA topics such as queerness and the role of gender in society. ‘Dismantle the Sun’/Sangu Mandanna, for example, includes numerous strong and determined young women characters, the main character Vira was a warrior, while ‘Chudail’/Nikita Gill follows the relationship between the Chudail, a mythical, shape-shifting creature, and the enduring disappearances of girls. In the story, Nikita makes a clear statement about the Patriarchy and the gendering of blame, ‘It was easier to blame a woman for what went wrong with the choices of men than it was for men to take responsibility for the harm they caused’ (1:23:06). These stories help to dismantle stereotypes about South Asian girls and women, who have oftentimes, been positioned as submissive, as victims, and/or, as Reference Lau Ee JiaLau (2003) argues, ‘defined in relation to others and, most frequently, in relation to her men folk’ (p.369).

The proliferation of Black Lives Matter as a global movement brought YA anthologies devoted to showcasing Black authors and stories to the fore. Black Enough: Stories of Being Young & Black in America (2019), edited by the Haitian American YA author Ibi Zoboi, displays the spectrum of Black identities in the US. The anthology brings together a prestigious group of best-selling, award-winning, and emerging African American YA authors – including YA superstars such as Nic Stone, Jason Reynolds, Renée Watson, and Justina Ireland – to create a wide variety of intersectional representation. The seventeen stories in this collection both subvert and solidify stereotypes of Black teenagers in the US. There are some elements, such as connection to hair, that establish a Black cultural identity within the texts; however, the intersection of identities of the characters – with a variety of ethnicities, sexualities, religions, and family structures – expands definitions of what it means to be Black. Zoboi outlines her aim for the book in the introduction:

In response, each author explores their character’s relationship with their racial identity in very different ways. For example, in ‘Kissing Sarah Smart’/Justina Ireland, a mixed heritage, bisexual teenager grapples with her sexuality during a summer romance with a local, white girl, while dealing with her mother’s mental health issues. While in ‘The Ingredients’/Jason Reynolds, Black boyhood is celebrated when a group of teenage boys happily discuss sandwiches after visiting their local pool. Zoboi outlines, in the introduction:

The celebration of Black joy is seen in two books edited by Dhonielle Clayton and written by six bestselling and critically acclaimed Black women: Blackout (2019) and its follow-up Whiteout (2023).Footnote ¹⁸ These books modify the anthology format by collecting interconnected short stories, by different authors, to create whole novels. In Blackout there are distinct chapters/short stories, where the author is identified; however, in Whiteout each chapter centres on a couple and the author’s identity is kept a secret. As the titles suggest, Blackout follows six teenagers as they fall in love during a power outage in New York, while Whiteout follows twelve teenagers in Atlanta as they help a friend with a romantic gesture and apology during a snowstorm. Each anthology features sexuality diversity, different types of love and at different stages, and a variety of romantic tropes from second-chance love (‘The Long Walk’/Tiffany D. Jackson, in Blackout, ‘Ava and Mason’ in Whiteout), to opposites attract (‘Seymour and Grace’/Nicola Yoon, in Blackout), to forced proximity (‘Made to fit’/Ashley Woodfolk in Blackout), to childhood friends to romantic partners (‘All the Great Love Stories … and Dust’/Dhonielle Clayton, in Blackout, ‘Jordyn’ and ‘Kaz’ in Whiteout). Drawing upon Reference ChapmanChapman’s (2017) work, Lu and Knight Steele detail that ‘Historically, blackness has been treated as the antithesis of life, and certainly disassociated from joy’ (p.830). The cultural and creative industries, including the book publishing industry, have played a critical role in commodifying Black pain and trauma (Reference SobandeSobande, 2021). Blackout and Whiteout, therefore, act as a form of resistance to a society built on racism, violence, and oppression, and the books and literature that capitalise on this. As Dhonielle Clayton surmises in her story, in Blackout, ‘All The Great Love Stories … and Dust’, ‘Some stories are better told in the dark. Not just the scary ones where someone gets chased through the woods. Or the whodunits where a bunch of suspects are trapped in a house. But even love stories can glow when the lights go out’ (p.39).

Bodies and Minds

White/Eurocentric beauty standards are usually unrealistic, harmful, create social hierarchies based on body size, skin colour, hair colour, and so on, and are one of the key reasons that people, usually girls and women, develop poor body images (Reference Mady, Biswas, Dadzie, Hill and PaulMady et al., 2023). However, girls and women who adhere to these unrealistic standards are the ones promoted most favourably in the media, culture, and in advertising. Visual media, such as film and television, are also aggressive reinforcers of these standards (Reference Groesz, Levine and MurnenGroesz et al., 2002). These representations are particularly damaging to adolescents: commercial and advertising pressures have, therefore, contributed to teenagers struggling with their body image and, in some cases, their mental health (Mental Health Foundation, 2019; House of Commons Health and Social Care Committee, 2022). This has been compounded by the proliferation of social media and the ubiquity of digitally altered photographs (Reference Meier and GrayMeier & Gray, 2014; Reference Fardouly and VartanianFardouly & Vartanian, 2016). YA plays an important role in the relationship young readers develop with their bodies (Reference AverillAverill, 2016; Reference ByersByers, 2018). Reference AverillAverill (2016) argues, ‘the representations of fat people in young adult literature become quite powerful, as they serve as part of the foundation for how young people learn to interpret who fat people get to be and how culture will treat them’ (p.14). Averill identifies how the fat body in YA has typically been used as cautionary tales, symbols of failure or limitation. This supports an earlier study by Reference RabinowitzRabinowitz (2003), who argues, ‘Fatness is used overwhelmingly to connote corruption of inner character, weakness, immaturity, and flaws that need to be fixed’ (p.1). Even the fat-acceptance narratives that Averill examined were set within the ‘cultural framework of fat hatred’ (p.21).

Fatphobia, Reference StringsStrings (2019) argues, is a product of white supremacy and originated with the racialisation of women’s bodies, specifically Black women’s bodies, during the transatlantic slave trade and the emergence of ‘race science’. These historical tropes, about Black women’s bodies (e.g. the Fat mammy figure) – which were constructed by enslavers as a form of control – persist in the media today (Reference CollinsCollins, 2005; Coleman, 2011). It was through these racial discourses of fatness, which denigrated Black women, that thinness (and whiteness) was constructed as the norm because the manufactured fear of fatness (and Blackness) ‘served as the driver for the creation of slenderness as the proper form of embodiment for elite white Christian women’ (Reference StringsStrings, 2019, p.212). The media plays a critical role in shaping, mirroring, and strengthening societal standards, perceptions, and convictions concerning body weight and for perpetuating fatphobia (Reference Thompson, Herbozo, Himes, Yamamiya, Brownell, Puhl, Schwartz and RuddThompson et al., 2005).

In a follow-up study to Reference AverillAverill (2016), Reference ByersByers (2018, p.159) examines four more hopeful narratives with fat protagonists, which she argues ‘open up alternative avenues through which to imagine futures long denied them’.Footnote ¹⁹ These more positive narratives have been published alongside the body positive movement, which has been popularised through social media platforms such as Instagram (Reference Cohen, Newton-John and SlaterCohen et al., 2019). The body positivity movement – which celebrates all bodies – was started in response to unrealistic beauty standards; a social construct that promoted young, white, thin, non-disabled people/bodies (Reference SastreSastre, 2014; Reference Cohen, Newton-John and SlaterCohen et al., 2019; Reference Rodgers, Meyer and McCaigRodgers et al., 2020). Quantitative and qualitative studies have found that the body positive movement – particularly viewing body positive images – has a positive impact on psychological wellbeing (Reference Cohen, Newton-John and SlaterCohen et al., 2019; Reference Rodgers, Meyer and McCaigRogers et al., 2020). In reflection of this, there have been some body-positive YA anthologies published in recent years. The (Other) F Word: A Celebration of the Fat and Fierce (2019), edited by Angie Manfredi, is an intersectional celebration of fatness told in essays, stories, poems, artwork, and fashion tips. The anthology brings together prominent YA and middle-grade authors, social media influencers, and activists. A clear aim of the collection is empowerment, with the narratives acting as a guide for its readers, as Angie Manfredi states, in the introduction, ‘I have always believed that when we learn to accept our bodies the way they are – when we learn to love ourselves exactly as we are in the immediate moment – it can shift the world’ (p.2). Unlike the books Reference AverillAverill’s (2016, p.20) analyses, which centre on books about girls and women who are ‘straight and white, and usually either middle class or wealthy’, this anthology takes an unequivocal intersectional approach, exploring the experiences of fat-phobia and fat oppression from a variety of perspectives. The anthology thus aligns more closely with Averill’s assertation that ‘empowerment must be linked to the complex and intersectional nature of true or genuine social justice’ (p.15). S. Qiouyi Lu explicitly addressed this, and their experiences about being fat, non-binary, and Asian, in their essay, ‘Fat, And.’: ‘when fat spaces are defined by a standard of experience created by one dominant group – fat and white, for example – other experiences are quick to be pushed aside. I’m not fat for an Asian person; I’m fat and Asian’ (p.45). While YA author Isabel Quintero, in her essay, explains how her light-skin privilege, as a light-skinned Mexican American, influences how she is perceived as a fat person: ‘this fucked up privilege allows me to let the Mexican jump out, to be more myself, more “weird,” more “quirky,” more “different” without the same kind of repercussions (being silenced, omitted, rejected) because that light-skinned part of me has already been accepted’ (p.112). The anthology also explores how switching between different cultural and ethnic spaces impacts young people’s relationships with bodies. In ‘Chubby City Indian’, Lakota author and comedian Jana Schmieding details her childhood, in a small town in Oregon, which was demarcated by two sides of the river. On the white side of the river, where Schmieding went to school, her experiences were dominated by whiteness and her body was considered through white and male gazes; something that she began to internalise alongside the desire to be accepted. On the Indigenous side of the river, she danced alongside other Indigenous women of all shapes and sizes and felt a sense of affirmation, kinship, and belonging, whilst understanding the sacredness of her own body: ‘My bigness and boldness on the dance floor were a celebration of their courage and endurance in the face of so much historic silencing’ (p.12). Published two years later, Every Body Shines: Sixteen Stories about Living Fabulously Fat (Reference Newbould2021), edited by Cassandra Newbould, also focuses on fat protagonists pushing back against tropes and stereotypes, with stories about body diversity and fat acceptance. Compared to The (Other) F Word – which has more of an empowering, pedagogical approach – the works of fiction in Every Body Shines really focus on how the main characters deal with fatphobia from friends, family, and society in general. There are several stories that include restrictive dieting techniques (e.g. calorie counting) and where the protagonists have internalised fat phobia. Both ‘Dupatta Diaries’/Nafiza Azad and ‘Food Is Love’/Chris Baron have characters who love and enjoy food but are body-shamed by family members so restrict their diets (or have restricted diets forced upon them). This leads to self-loathing, complicating their love of food, as we can see from Jamilah’s experience in ‘Dupatta Diaries’, ‘Butter chicken has too many calories, and I, having the audacity to be fat don’t have the right to eat it’ (p.72), and Josh’s questioning in ‘Food is Love’, ‘How is food love when every bit I take is eye-rolled and examined by my own grandmother?’ (p.93). Overall, these two anthologies explore how various fat authors and artists perceive their bodies and navigate the world, and act as a type of ‘knowing kinship’ with the aim of resisting gendered and racialised fatphobia (Reference Kost and JamieKost & Jamie, 2023). However, The (Other) F Word aligns more with Byers’ (Reference Byers2018) contemplation, ‘Perhaps that is the next step for fat characters in YAL: imagining worlds filled with complex, intersectional characters whose communities exist beyond thin-thinking and fat-hate’ (p.168).

Genre

As inclusive stories move away from ‘issue books’/‘problem novels’, there has been an influx of books written by and/or featuring socially marginalised people across a variety of genres in the YA market.

Romance is one of the most popular and lucrative genres of fiction in the UK and the US (Reference MohammedMohammed, 2019). The genre has also been embedded in the history of YA since its early days. In the 1940s and 1950s, there were many light romance novels that ‘dealt almost exclusively with white, middle-class values and morality’ (Reference Nilsen and DonelsonNilsen & Donelson, 2009, p.61; Reference CartCart, 2016). Early romance novels for adults also centred on white, mainly middle-class, women: a trend that has continued, to some extent, to this day (Reference BeckettBeckett, 2019). While these YA romances fell out of fashion in the 1960s and 1970s, there was a revival in the 1980s in the form of mass-market paperback series such as Sweet Valley High and Sweet Dreams (Reference PatteePattee, 2010; Reference CartCart, 2016). Although these were usually written by multiple authors, under one name in the case of the Sweet Valley High series, they, again, centred on white, middle-class, cisgendered, heterosexual, non-disabled characters. Anything that fell outside of this was considered niche, as we can see from the history of Black romance books:

The spate of dystopian novels featuring romantic storylines that followed in the 2000s – including Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight series (2005–2008) and Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games trilogy (2008–2010) – purported to represent a more empowered girl protagonist. However, feminist scholars have disagreed as to whether both Bella (Twilight) and Katniss (The Hunger Games) still embody problematic and stereotypical portrayals of gender (Mann, 2009; Reference DeaVault, Mary and ClarkDeaVault, 2012; Reference Lem, Hassel, Pharr and ClarkLem & Hassel, 2012; Montz, Reference Parker2012; Reference Green-Barteet and MontzGreen-Barteet & Montz, 2014). For example, Twilight, which falls under the paranormal romance genre, has a strong rhetoric of abstinence throughout it guided by ‘the author’s strong religious views about sexual abstinence’ (Reference Kaveney, James and MendelsohnKaveney, 2012, p.220). More recent YA romance moves away from this white heteronormative model, and YA Romance anthologies play an important role in showcasing a range of different type of romantic protagonists and romances. For example, Meet Cute: Some People Are Destined to Meet (2018) brings together some very popular YA authorsFootnote ²¹ to write short stories about how two people, who will go on to form a romantic coupling, meet for the first time (a key trope in many romance films and novels). The stories in this anthology are wide-ranging and showcase gender identity, racial, body, and sexuality diversity. Hungry Hearts: 13 Tales of Food & Love (2019) is a multicultural collection, edited by Elsie Chapman and Caroline Tung Richmond, which explores the relationship between family, food, and culture. It features YA authors with diverse heritages: Sandhya Menon, S K Ali, Rin Chupeco, Anna-Marie McLemore, Rebecca Roanhorse, Sara Farizan, Jay Coles, Adi Alsaid, Sangu Mandanna, Phoebe North, Karuna Riazi.

Three Sides of a Heart: Stories about Love Triangles 2017, edited by US Fantasy YA author Natalie C. Parker, uses the love triangle trope as springboard for more inclusive stories. The love triangle trope is ubiquitous in romance stories and has been prevalent in YA in the last couple of decades (Reference LyttleLyttle, 2022). The Twilight series and the Hunger Games trilogy both include love-triangles: Bella choosing between vampire Edward and werewolf Jacob (Twilight) and Katniss torn between her childhood best friend Gale and fellow Hunger Games participant Peeta (Hunger Games). However, Reference LyttleLyttle (2022) argues that standard love-triangle narratives are when ‘a heterosexual, cisgender girl must choose between two heterosexual, cisgender boys’, which does not leave much room for different and/or alternative types of relationships. Written, again, by a collection of prominent USYA authors,Footnote ²² Three Sides of a Heart does attempt to introduce more relationship diversity, in terms of sexuality, race/ethnicity, social structures, and so on. For example, some of the stories – for example ‘Omega Ship’/Rae Carson, ‘The Historian, The Garrison, and the Cantakerous Catwoman’/Lamar Giles, ‘Before She Was Bloody’/Tessa Gratton – centre on, or allude to, polyamorous relationships, a type of relationship structure that is not commonly represented in YA (Reference LyttleLyttle, 2022). Lyttle argues that

Finally, more recent YA romance anthologies, such as Fools in Love: Fresh Twists on Romantic Tales (2021) and Serendipity: Ten Romantic Tropes Transformed (2022), offer fresher interpretations of romance tropes. Edited by USYA authors Ashley Herring Blake and Rebecca Podos, Fools in Love was originally conceived as an idea on Twitter (now X) when Podos tweeted, ‘Is there a YA romcom anthology where each author tackles a different popular trope? I want one’ (Reference PodosPodos, 2019). This led to the editors crowdsourcing a list of popular tropes (enemies to lovers, fake-dating, love-triangles, etc.). The anthology authorsFootnote ²³ then chose one of the tropes to centre their short-stories on. This multi-genre, multi-cultural anthology – with stories ranging from fantasy to sci-fi to contemporary – centres LGBTQIA+ characters and relationships. Additionally, one of the stories, Hannah Moskowitz’s ‘Love Triangle’, inadvertently takes Reference LyttleLyttle’s (2022) advice and turns the love triangle into a polyamorous relationship. Following a similar concept to Fools in Love, Serendipity: Ten Romantic Tropes Transformed, as the name suggests, takes ten romantic tropes and transforms them, with a particular focus on more diverse representation. Edited by USYA author Marissa Meyer, whose previous works mainly include retellings of fairy tales, the anthology uses common romantic tropes such as the makeover (‘Liberty’/Anna-Marie McLemore), the fake relationship (‘Bye Bye, Piper Berry’/Julie Murphy), and forced proximity (‘In the Blink of an Eye’/Elizabeth Eulberg).

Some of the aforementioned anthologies feature, or centre on, science-fiction or fantasy stories: genres that have traditionally been dominated by white men (in terms of the authors, characters, and fans). Several scholars of YA have analysed how and why this domination has shaped YA literature. Ebony Elizabeth Reference ThomasThomas (2019) explores how Blackness is reduced to a ghostly background presence in fantasy literature and links the existence of racist tropes, and conventional racism in science fiction and fantasy, to Black readers and their omission from fandoms. Studies by scholars such as Reference TrumanTruman (2019), Reference ToliverToliver (2020), and Reference DoyleDoyle (2020) highlight the importance of speculative fiction on young people in their development of creative and critical thinking and their engagement in difficult topics. These studies also show how speculative fiction can be an effective tool in engaging students in various, often difficult topics such as police violence, white supremacy, climate crisis, gender binary, and other topics related to identity and oppression. This can be seen in A Phoenix First Must Burn: Sixteen Stories of Black Girl Magic, Resistance, and Hope (2020) edited by Patrice Caldwell and featuring Black women and gender-non-conforming authors. A Phoenix First Must Burn looks at different Black experiences through fantasy, science fiction, and magical narratives; many of the stories address systemic challenges. In ‘Kiss the Sun’/Ibi Zoboi draws upon Caribbean mythology, focusing on the soucouyant,Footnote ²⁴ and unpacks colourism in Black communities. The story also grapples with the history of colonisation by exploring the impact of whiteness on Black self-image and identity, and the continued oppression of marginalised people and culture through tourism (and the land-grab that comes with it). Colonialism served as a conduit for middle- and upper-class men from Europe and North America to manifest their sexual desires rooted in the racialisation and exoticisation of individuals in the ‘Global South’ (Reference Rodriguez Garcia, van Voss and van Nederveen MeerkerkRodriguez Garcia et al., 2017). Sex tourism – a booming industry today – has many ethical issues such as the potential for exploitation and trafficking of vulnerable groups including children, the economic gap between tourists and residents, and the reinforcement of racial and gendered stereotypes (Reference Brooks and HeaslipBrooks & Heaslip, 2019). Zoboi touches upon this in the story, with the soucouyants observing, ‘They rub their Black bodies with coconut oil for the white tourists at the resort to gawk at and pay good money for […] That’s why the developers want that piece of our island: so they can have their fantasies’ (p.222) and focusing on the unequal dynamic between old white men and young Black girls,

Instead of putting Black girls in a position of inferiority; the stories in this anthology, as the subtitle of the anthology establishes, are about Black Girl Magic, centring Black girls in narratives of resistance and hope. For example, ‘Gilded’/Elizabeth Acevedo follows an enslaved girl and metalmancer, who struggles between the possibility of buying her freedom from her enslaver or helping her friends with their revolution and fight for freedom. Set in the 1500s, and inspired by the ‘1521 Santo Domingo Slave Revolt’ on the island of Hispaniola (what is now known as the Dominican Republic), the story reflects on the definition of freedom, as well as who interprets its significance and its situational relevance, asking the question: ‘Could you live knowing you had a chance to free many more than yourself, but you refused?’ (p.42).

Another example of an anthology that reclaims the speculative fiction genre is A Thousand Beginnings and Endings, edited by Reference Oh and ChapmanEllen Oh and Elise Chapman (2018). This collection of fifteen short stories draws inspiration from Asian mythology and folklore, reinterpreted and creatively reimagined by diasporic Asian writers. The strength of this anthology is the diversity of cultures and mythologies explored. For example, ‘Nothing into All’/Renée Ahdieh is a retelling of the Korean folktale Dokkaebi bangmangi (The Goblins’ Club), ‘Daughter of the Sun’/Shveta Thakrar is a feminist tale inspired by stories from the Sanskrit epic The Mahābhārata, ‘The Counting of Vermillion Beads’/Aliette de Bodard is based on the Vietnamese fairytale The Story of Tấm and Cám, and ‘Bullet, Butterfly’/Elsie Chapman retells the tragic Chinese legend The Butterfly Lovers. Reference SohnSohn (2019) argues that

While this is the case for the stories in this anthology – the narratives do not centre on racial oppression and injustice – they are unapologetically Asian, exploring folklore, traditions, and worldviews from non-Western cultures, which is a subversive practice in itself. For example, Canadian novelist Larissa Lai outlines that the reason she writes speculative fiction is to ‘distinguish the racist figurations of Asians in speculative fiction from the work of re-subjectivation in which racialized people reclaim or remake racist stereotypes for the purposes of self-empowerment’ (Reference LaiLai, 2020, p.3). This allows socially marginalised authors to build ‘new, freer worlds from the mainstream strain of science fiction, which most often reinforces dominant narratives of power’ (Reference Imarisha, Brown and ThomasImarisha et al., 2015, p.4). While the positioning of socially marginalised authors in speculative fiction has seen some improvements in recent years, white men still have the upper hand as the racial pay disparities between white and Black science fiction authors suggest (see, for example, #Publishingpaidme) (Reference FloodFlood, 2020). As such, anthologies such as A Phoenix First Must Burn and A Thousand Beginnings and Endings help challenge the historical hegemony of whiteness in speculative fiction and bridge the ‘imagination gap’ for young readers (Reference ThomasThomas, 2019).

Activism and Resistance

This chapter has highlighted the vibrancy in YA anthologies and has demonstrated that, especially in recent years, their willingness to challenge white, cisgendered, non-disabled, heterosexual, thin-thinking normativity. As noted earlier, the publishing industry – and its cultural output – has, historically, promoted and supported this type of normativity, so writing and publishing against the grain can be seen as a type of activism. Activism is important for young people, who are now more socially conscious than ever before (Reference CarnegieCarnegie, 2022). In addition to the growing demand for inclusive and diverse literature – that reflects the changing nature of young people’s identities – there have also been anthologies that explicitly call for action or highlight stories of resistance and activism. This chapter will end by highlighting some of the Activism-focused anthologies, centring on issues pertinent to young people today.

Since the #MeToo movement several Feminism-themed anthologies aimed at young people have been published. A core component of contemporary feminism revolves around the necessity of introducing young women to feminist concepts and knowledge. Reference Fernandez, Wilding, Maria, Faith and WrightFernandez and Wilding (2003) assert that equipping young women with exposure to feminist discourse provides them with essential resources to combat the discrimination they encounter in their personal experiences. Here We Are: Feminism for the Real World (Reference Jensen2017), edited by Kelly Jensen, brings together forty-four people – including writers, actors, and artists of different races/ethnicities, gender identities, sizes, backgrounds and so on – to create essays, poems, illustrations, comics, and other creative outputs. Krestyna Lypen, editor at Algonquin Young Readers (the anthology’s publisher), described it as ‘a book that’s in many ways an introduction to feminism to offer to curious readers’ (Reference Patrick and ReidPatrick & Reid, 2021). Importantly, the anthology takes a fluid approach to feminism, as Malinda Lo outlines in her opening essay: ‘Feminism is about recognizing power and fighting to distribute it equally, regardless of race or class or ability or gender. Feminism is not static, and it never has been. In fact, feminism demands change’ (p.6). This intersectionality is also the core ethos of Our Stories, Our Voices: 21 YA Authors Get Real about Injustice, Empowerment, and Growing Up Female in America (Reference Reed2018), edited by Amy Reed. This is a non-fiction anthology, whose essays explore how gender identity intersects with race, religion, and ethnicity, and it was written with the intention of being a mirror for the readers:

The essays have an empowering, and political, undertone with the overarching message, as written in ‘Unexpected Pursuits: Embracing My Indigeneity and Creativity’/Christine Day, ‘Never dismiss your own perspectives. Never question the validity of life in the margins’ (p.50).

The last anthology in this chapter – Take the Mic: Fictional Stories of Everyday Resistance (2019) – focuses on everyday acts of resistance and activism; the small, often subtle actions that individuals take in their daily lives to challenge or address societal injustices and promote positive change. As Bethany Morrow outlines in the introduction,

These anthologies are responding to a growing trend of civil and political activism among individuals who believe their voices have been disregarded by those in positions of power (Young Women’s Trust, 2019). Stories about activism serve as a powerful tool for educating, inspiring, and empowering young people who feel marginalised or unheard. Anthologies do not need to be explicitly about activism/activist movements to do this. The anthologies detailed in this chapter, and the A Change Is Gonna Come anthology explored in Chapter 3, have the potential to equip young people with knowledge, empathy, and the motivation to engage in meaningful social and political change. The following chapter builds upon the ideological-representational work YA anthologies do to address intersectional ideas about identity and the representation of socially marginalised, particularly BIPOC, authors in publishing. However, it also illustrates that such anthologies go beyond representation and inclusion: they facilitate community building and solidarity among authors and readers from socially marginalised groups. In this way, anthologies contribute to the formation of resilient, interconnected communities that resist marginalisation and advocate for systemic change.

Book Overview

A Change Is Gonna Come (commonly referred to as Change book) is a multi-genre YA anthology interpreting the theme of change; it includes short stories and poems. The anthology was published in 2017, during a turbulent cultural moment in the UK, just over a year after the 2016 United Kingdom European Union membership referendum. Brexit exposed rifts between different cultural and ethnic groups in the UK: studies have since linked the vote to leave with xenophobia and prejudice, whilst other studies have noted the rise in racism post-Brexit (Reference de Zavala, Guerra and Simãode Zavala et al., 2017; Reference BoothBooth, 2019). Whilst the purpose of the anthology is to represent and celebrate ‘diverse’ (‘BAME’) voices and cultural identities, authors were given the freedom to interpret the theme however they were inspired to do so. There was a sociopolitical agenda behind the project, but the book itself is intended to have wide appeal for a YA readership, with pieces varying in style and genre. As Ruth Bennett, the Commissioning Editor, expressed:

Change solicited content from the public in the form of a competition, which is reminiscent of anthology practices of the past. In the Restoration period, readers offered poems for booksellers/editors to include in anthologies while periodicals in the early eighteenth century solicited content from the public (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2003). This open and collaborative process is more egalitarian than traditional submissions practices, which increasingly favours agented authors. Since BIPOC authors are less likely to be represented by a literary agent than their white counterparts, competition-driven anthologies such as Change offer new and emerging authors opportunities for discovery (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019b). Eight established authors – Tanya Byrne, Inua Ellams, Catherine Johnson, Patrice Lawrence, Ayisha Malik, Irfan Master, Musa Okwonga, and Nikesh Shukla – were invited to contribute and an open competition was held for previously unpublished authors. Four new authors – Mary Bello, Aisha Bushby, Yasmin Rahman, and Phoebe Roy – were selected from over 100 submissions. Ruth Bennett said of the process:

It is useful, in the context of Change book, to think of anthologies as a genre in themselves, even if the authors, genres, and content across different anthologies diverge widely. As Benedict asserts,

While the shared identity (of being ‘BAME’) is what tied the authors together, the anthology is not an identity-based narrative, and does not construct one singular identity based on these demographic parameters. Covering genres from contemporary to historical fiction to magical realism to dystopia, the stories span themes/topics such as: hopeful first-love (‘Hackney Moon’/Tanya Byrne), living with OCD (‘Marionette Girl’/Aisha Bushby), grief and heritage (‘Dear Asha’/Mary Bello), coming-of-age (‘Iridescent Adolescent’/Phoebe Roy), far-right extremism post-Brexit (‘We Who?’/Nikesh Shukla), the life of a (real-life) Black circus performer/owner in the early Victorian era (‘Astounding Talent! Unequalled Performances!’/Catherine Johnson), the impact of Anti-Muslim sentiment post-Terrorist attacks on Hijab-wearers (‘Fortune Favours the Bold’/Yasmin Rahman), time-traveling (‘The Unwritten Future of Moses Mohammad Shabazz Banneker King’/Irfan Master), an unexpected friendship in a refugee camp (‘A Refuge’/Ayisha Malik), and a Dystopian look at prison/justice systems and reality TV (‘The Clean Sweep’/ Patrice Lawrence). The anthology is also bookended with two poems. It begins with Muka Okwonga’s ‘The Elders on the Wall’, which challenges young readers to shape their own destinies and champion change, irrespective of the opinions held by older generations. The poem encourages the idea of independent decision-making while also stressing the importance of joining forces with like-minded individuals on a shared journey towards transformation. The closing poem ‘Of Lizard Skin and Dust Storms’ by Inua Ellams takes a more reflective tone, conjuring images, and transitions from the past. It considers the conflicting (lived and imagined) lives with which many diasporic communities grapple.

Publishing on the Fringes

[Indie] Publishers

Although editors have a critical role in the curation of an anthology, as detailed earlier, the role of the publisher, and who that publisher is, cannot be underestimated.Footnote ²⁶ As Reference LefevereLeFevere (1992) asserts,

Marketing and sales can determine how much financial backing a book receives, which can, in turn, impact the content. Design, for example, is critical for setting a first impression, and conveying the content of a book, to potential readers. Publishers are responsible for elements such the book cover and paratexts, paper and print quality, and format. In Change, the foreword and the introduction shape the book, beyond the status of the authors and poets included, to become cultural advertisements for ‘diverse’ and ‘inclusive’ writing. The ‘Note of the Stories’ gives a clear insight into the autonomy the authors had with their writing: ‘The purpose of this anthology is to give creative space to those who have historically had their thoughts, ideas and experiences oppressed. As such, we have not censored the topics covered by our writers’ (p.4). To counter any sensitivities, trigger warnings, a glossary of terms, and resources (for people affected or to learn more) were included. The book cover has a mainstream look that does not disclose the ethnicities of the authors; it was the Art Director’s intention not to frame the book as a ‘diverse’ and thus not exoticise the authors or the writing:

However, Paul Coomey did decide, in the end, to have ‘BAME’ on this cover for discoverability reasons:

Change is also noteworthy for its title, as Darren Chetty outlines in the foreword, since it is named after a song, written by Sam Cooke, which became an anthem of the US Civil Rights movement in the 1960s. This positions the book, and its aesthetic and ethos, as bound to a new generation of readers interested in a more inclusive and just world including the books they read.

The type and/or prestige of the publisher cannot be ignored: a conglomerate publisher will, for example, have a much wider readership than a small/independent press, the finances to publish larger print runs, and the sway to be sold in larger bookshops/bookshop chains. As Reference Lacey, Korte, Schneider and LethbridgeLacey (2000) argues, ‘Having the most potent publishing brand means that those charming and seductive four words, “The Penguin Book Of …” are dangerous too. They imply immense authority and status’ (p.336). Therefore, as Reference Frank, Baker and MalmkjærFrank (2001) surmises, the analysis of anthologies

Neoliberal publishing has meant that although ‘diversity’ and ‘diverse’ books are being published and promoted, it has often been done in a superficial way. Historically, products addressing or reflecting Otherness have been perceived as niche and therefore unprofitable. Consequently, BPOC authors find themselves exploited by the industry to maximise profitability. As publishers increasingly prioritise profits, they are more likely to align with existing and dominant market preferences. While independent publishers are not the only course of support from the publishing industry, they play one of the largest roles in discovering and nurturing emerging voices due to an open submissions policy. As noted earlier, this is not necessarily an option for larger publishers who rely on literary agents. Consequently, independent publishers have displayed a notable history of launching new authors, especially those from socially marginalised groups.

At the time of publishing Change, Stripes/Little Tiger was a minority family owned, independent publishing company. Independent publishers, such as Stripes, have less bureaucratic infrastructure than their larger counterparts, and thus have more involvement with their authors and titles. This is important for BPOC authors, who have faced hostilities in British publishing (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019a), especially when, as Patrice Lawrence explains, these motivations extend beyond the superficial: ‘Stripes genuinely cared about this project. They went beyond the talk to actually do something that made a difference to the emerging writers and the readers from diverse backgrounds.’ While Nikesh Shukla outlined the thought and care given to the authors and the readers, ‘Stripes really cared about it [the anthology] coming out in the right way. They gave the book to start conversations in schools, which was really important. They were respectful of the authors’. The [smaller] size of the organisation also meant that the authors gained more of an insight into the publishing process; something that was especially helpful for the emerging authors, as Mary Bello detailed:

This experience also helped the editorial team at Stripes/Little Tiger, notably Ruth Bennett, rethink and revise their/her publishing ethos:

For the established authors, as articulated by Catherine Johnson, ‘It felt like an excellent and more importantly, tangible, step forward.’ Many of these established authors had been writing and publishing for decades prior to Change and grappled with many issues related to being BPOC in publishing/authorship in the UK. Irfan Masters, for example, acknowledged that while there was a little progress, when the anthology was published in 2017, under-representation was still an issue but not bad as in previous years:

Acknowledging the commercial potential of the book, Masters continued, that the book ‘presents an opportunity for other publishers to see that such an anthology can be a success, can create a buzz and can be accessible to a wider audience’. And, according to Patrice Lawrence, that is exactly what Change did, in part due to the investment of Stripes/Little Tiger:

Ruth Bennett also underscored the role that Change had, at the time of publication, in advancing conversations about ‘diversity’ in publishing.

While emerging authors are now writing in a different publishing landscape than the established authors, forms such as short stories, as will be discussed shortly in this chapter, and formats such as anthologies allow emerging authors to hone their craft and gain visibility in a crowded market.

Mirrors and Windows

In the publishing and wider cultural and creative industries, Otherness has typically been controlled and subjugated through representation. This had an impact on the authors in Change, none of whom really saw themselves in books as children and young adults. Yasmin Rahman disclosed this was a motivation for writing:

This mirror, to use Rudine Sims Reference BishopBishop’s (1990) terminology, was clearly seen throughout the promotional activities for Change, as Patrice Lawrence observed, ‘it shows young people from different backgrounds that there may be a place for them in publishing – this is especially backed up by the school visits where the Muslim girls’ reaction to Yasmin was a joy to see’. This also showcases the impact of author school visits on marginalised children, which is an important enabler in making publishing more inclusive (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019b). The experience was also a very positive one for Yasmin Rahman, boosting her confidence in a very memorable way:

Such encounters, and representation, is important, especially at such a formative age, as Yasmin describes:

Tanya Byrne is adamant that Change was not published, or written, with the archetypal white audience in mind:

While the stories are not told through the white gaze, and are not written for a white audience, the anthology does serve as a window book. Both Sims Bishop’s ‘Windows’ metaphor, and Reference LaCapraLaCapra’s (2001, p.41) model of ‘empathic unsettlement’ are germane to literature about cultures and experiences outside our frame of knowledge. It represents the middle-ground between narratives that welcome empathy and allow readers to understand different worlds, whilst also demonstrating that there are limitations to our understanding. This model can be applicable to non-BIPOC readers of Change book, where some of the stories tackle explicit racism (alongside other forms of discrimination). It can also introduce white readers to stories and poems by BPOC authors that are not centred on ethnicity, or issues of race and racism. This is important because, as Mary Bello, invoking Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, states, ‘Finding voices from all ethnic backgrounds is vital because the world does not revolve around a single story. There are so many rich, wonderful tales that live in the hearts of people from all walks of life. These stories deserve to be heard’.

Consequently, the Change authors are creating counternarratives, as Tanya Byrne outlines:

Counternarratives do not replace the prevailing narrative; rather, they provide a platform and an opportunity for marginalised groups to express themselves and gain recognition. Counternarratives prove especially valuable in deconstructing essentialist identities that are constructed by dominant groups. Consequently, these counternarratives challenge dominant viewpoints and stereotypes, ultimately empowering authors and readers from marginalised backgrounds. For the BPOC British authors in Change this meant constructing their own notions of Britishness and showcasing BPOC British adolescence. UK publishing has, in the past, depended on imports from the US, particularly books by BIPOC authors. As such, anthologies like Change, which look at contemporary British identity, are important. As Tanya Reference ByrneByrne (2017) put it, ‘BAME writers must tell their own stories – and we have to be disruptive’. In this sense, anthologies serve as repositories of cultural knowledge and collective memory; through their writing, at this particular moment in British history, the Change authors document their communities’ traditions, struggles, and triumphs, ensuring that these stories are not forgotten or erased. By valuing and preserving BIPOC (and other socially marginalised) voices, anthologies empower authors to reclaim their narratives and assert their cultural sovereignty in the face of ongoing erasure and cultural appropriation.

Building a Community

A critical part of this research is the relationship between anthologies and community formation amongst BPOC UKYA authors. Community, in this instance, is the network of authors and the institutional frameworks that enable their collaborative work. Factors contained in the anthology ecosystem include a culture of support, that is, the means of encouraging, promoting, and supporting authors, particularly those at the start of their careers. Community building has long been an essential activist tool, indeed even in cultural activism, that not only creates opportunities for shared learning and growth but also helps community members leverage their collective resources and visibility to demand change from those in positions of authority (Reference WakholiWakholi, 2017). Community building is particularly important for BIPOC individuals because it provides an empowering space to connect with others who share similar cultural backgrounds, experiences, and struggles (Reference Maton, Seidman, Aber, In, Aber and SeidmanMaton et al., 2011). This sense of solidarity fosters a feeling of belonging and validation, helping to counteract the isolation and marginalisation that BIPOC individuals may face in predominantly white or non-inclusive spaces. All the interviewees emphasised the importance of community and resistance to the elitism and monocultural nature of the publishing industry.

As outlined earlier, being in a community of authors was particularly beneficial to the new authors. The collaborative experience was educational for them, as Yasmin suggests:

This training (of sorts) is crucial because authorship can be precarious, and the concentration of the publishing industries has made it difficult for people (particularly BIPOC authors) to join. BPOC authors face common barriers that not only prevent them from pursuing creative careers but can also hinder their careers once they have been published (Reference Ramdarshan-BoldRamdarshan Bold, 2019b). Anthologies such as Change – and the function of the anthology itself as an important community builder – are important interventions to tackle these systemic problems and inequalities. The underrepresentation of author role models can have a lasting impact on emerging or aspiring BPOC authors: it can indicate that authorship is not a viable career for marginalised groups and that cultural output favours white, middle-class stories, aesthetics, and values. The lack of familiarity with the cultural sector led many of the interviewees to feel uncomfortable and ‘out of place’ at various publishing events, as we saw earlier when Irfan Masters said, ‘I’m still often the only or one of very few brown faces in any book launch, meeting, conference, room’. One of the established authors described the YA community as ‘very cliquey’ and ‘dominated by white women’. They continued:

Publishing is reliant on networking; however, this can be restrictive for people with no connections in the industry. Therefore, having a ready-made network can help authors, at all stages in their career, combat some of these barriers, including help with negotiating the traditionally white spaces, which BPOC authors often struggle to inhabit. This is something that Stripes/Little Tiger considered when pitching the anthology:

Irfan Masters acknowledged the role he and the other established authors had, saying, ‘I think mentorship, or at least vocal support from established authors of colour is really important in encouraging more writers to get their voices out there. It provides platforms in which to try new things and point to what’s already out there and say, I can do this, I can see a way through’. Nikesh Shukla described it as ‘a massive comfort. There’s that stereotype of “you all know each other” and the hilarity is that it’s partly true. It’s true because of the impact of being the only people in the room; you do gravitate towards each other’. He continued, ‘all the writers of colour know each other. We’ve brought four more people into the fold’. Two of the new authors, Mary and Yasmin, outline how valuable this can be, and how mentorship was an important part of the Change experience:

One of the new authors, however, was concerned about the ghettoising nature of being in a collection that featured solely BPOC authors:

However, Aa’Ishah Hawton countered that anthologies, such as Change, were a stepping-stone to a more inclusive publishing landscape:

In general, these networks often lead to lasting friendships and connections, providing ongoing support and camaraderie. For the new authors, this enabled them to start setting up a peer-support system. Yasmin outlines:

Relationship-building was also important for the more established authors, as we can see from Patrice Lawrence’s experience, ‘It did enable me to deepen friendships with Catherine Johnson and Tanya Byrne’. As we have seen from the above, both professional and peer-support networks are crucial for BPOC authors. Anthologies, such as Change, can therefore: provide a safe and understanding environment where individuals facing similar challenges can share their experiences, feelings, and concerns; boost self-esteem and confidence; reduce feelings of loneliness and foster a sense of belonging; and exchange practical information and advice based on their experiences. This can be particularly helpful when dealing with complex issues or navigating unfamiliar situations.

Unite and Ignite: The Collective Power of Inclusive YA Anthologies

This Element has outlined the history of anthologies, spotlighting the politics of YA publishing and the potential of the YA anthology form to make social change. This historical overview is essential for understanding contemporary anthologies, especially regarding issues of exclusion, because it provides context, identifies patterns, traces influences, highlights counternarratives, and informs critical analysis. By contextualising contemporary anthologies within their historical frameworks, this Element helps scholars and practitioners alike to understand the complexities of exclusionary practices and work towards a more inclusive literary landscape.

Anthologies are instrumental in defining cultural traditions and offer a unique vantage point for engaging questions about multiculturalism and identity politics from different perspectives. Stories in anthologies, such as the ones detailed in this Element, use counterstorytelling as a mode of distancing BIPOC characters, for example, from the dominant ideological constructions of BIPOC. This allows the authors and the anthologies themselves to engage in the process of creating and articulating a new direction for BIPOC characters in young adult fiction. This also works across different socially marginalised identities. For example, intersectionality, the interconnected nature of social identities and systems of oppression, has become a prominent theme in contemporary anthologies. Multi-authored books, such as anthologies, are often better equipped to engage with intersectionality. By bringing together authors from different backgrounds, anthologies such as those outlined in Chapter 2 often explore how factors like race, gender, sexuality, and disability intersect to shape individual experiences. This is important because the ‘culture wars’ – being fought over LGBTQIA+ rights (especially trans rights), pronouns, racism, abortion rights, free speech etc. – are ultimately contributing to a divided society. Anthologies, therefore, have the potential to have a unifying role, like they did during divided periods in the past (Reference BenedictBenedict, 2015). The anthologies in this Element, therefore, cross the boundaries between literature and activism, showing the interconnectedness between narrative, identity, community, and activism.

The focus of this Element’s case study – the Change Is Gonna Come anthology – and others like it make their agenda explicit, searching for specific viewpoints and contributors. Change was conceptualised, commissioned, and published with the clear goal of resisting the cultural hierarchies that have existed in British publishing since its inception. The publisher Stripes are, therefore, doing valuable work by circulating literature that might not have been read widely beyond its context to a YA audience. These shorter narratives are particularly attractive to a younger generation of readers, supportive of marginalised voices, and pivotal in challenging cultural hierarchies in contemporary publishing. In Change book, the format gave the authors the possibility of experimenting with genre and not being confined to writing contemporary realism or identity books. Most importantly, it created a wider community of BPOC authors, not only to help each other navigate the often-hostile environment of British publishing, but also to create counternarratives en masse. Community building facilitates collective advocacy and activism efforts aimed at addressing systemic injustices and advocating for social change. By coming together, in Change, the authors were able to empower each other, amplify their voices, and leverage collective power to challenge oppressive systems and institutions. The book also had a domino effect for other publishers, as Ruth Bennett surmised, ‘After Change, I think other publishers may have felt more confident to try anthology publishing, whether it be self-generated or US buy-ins.’ Change book is therefore at the forefront of influencing British YA publishing practices.

Overall, inclusive YA anthologies, like the ones discussed in this Element, have a unique ability to disrupt traditional publishing norms by amplifying a range of voices, perspectives, and experiences that might not always be represented in mainstream publishing and by building new creative communities. They can introduce new ideas and innovative storytelling techniques into the literary landscape through the cross-pollination of genres, styles, and contributor backgrounds, and provide a space for both established and emerging authors to experiment and take risks. This can make different types of literature more accessible, especially for readers who may not have the time or resources to explore multiple authors or genres individually. Finally, the collaborative aspect of anthologies is a counter to the individualistic nature of traditional publishing, where ideas are often shaped by multiple voices and perspectives but where individual authors, especially bestselling ones, are most valued. Anthology communities are therefore not only sites of resistance but also incubators of cultural and social change. Through collective action, these literary communities can challenge dominant narratives, and oppressive norms and structures, paving the way for more equitable and just publishing industries.