Lately, I’ve found myself diving deep into anthologies and collections, seeking inspiration for my own short story writing. There’s no better way to hone your craft than by reading and analyzing the work of others. I had plans to launch my own collection this year but kept feeling like something was missing. After reflecting for a long time, I realized what it was: the promise of cohesion, a hook that would hold readers’ attention. The answer came when I stumbled upon a trend I’m calling the binding narrative.
While I’m unsure whether “binding narrative” is an official term or one I’ve coined, the concept itself is simple: it’s the thread that ties together all the stories in an anthology or collection. It could be a recurring setting, theme, event, or even a character or narrator that connects the dots between stories. This trend elevates anthologies from collections of random stories to cohesive reading experiences. I discovered this concept in several anthologies, and it has transformed the way I see short story collections.
Let’s explore some examples.
My first encounter with a binding narrative was in The Mistletoe Assembly, a delightful Regency anthology. The concept? Each story takes place at a Christmas ball called the Mistletoe Assembly. Every character finds their match or resolves their conflict at this event. What struck me the most was the subtle cameos by main characters from one story appearing in others. It felt as though the authors were all at the same ball, each adding more detail and richness to the shared experience. It’s not just an anthology of standalone stories—it’s a true collaboration that enhances the promise to the reader: every story is tied to this festive ball, giving the anthology the feel of a single, continuous event.
Readings from Cursed Room 301 took this binding narrative idea to another level, so much so that I became more invested in the overarching narrative than in some of the individual stories! The anthology starts with a plea to the government to demolish the titular Cursed Room, where professors teaching advanced horror writing have gone mad or disappeared. In between stories, we hear recordings from Professor Douglas, who critiques the tales and adds his own eerie insights. The result is an anthology with a meta-narrative—a story about storytelling, where even the frame holds tension and intrigue.
The Night Bazaar: London uses setting as its binding narrative. Each story features the mysterious Night Bazaar, where the bizarre and supernatural take place. There’s an introductory piece that sets the mood before each tale, creating a seamless flow from one story to the next. Like a haunted marketplace, the stories may differ, but they all intersect at this central, captivating location. This binding narrative not only connects the stories but amplifies the experience, making the anthology feel more like a shared journey than individual tales.
Finally, Pick Your Potion by Ephiny Gale uses a clever narrative device to tie its stories together. The binding narrative here is a bar where patrons are offered a menu of drinks, each corresponding to a story. The menu is written in the same mysterious, ethereal voice as the stories themselves, creating a vibe that feels otherworldly and immersive. It sets the tone perfectly, preparing readers for what lies ahead in each tale. This cohesive tone—achieved through a simple device like a menu—makes the collection feel unified and fluid.
In all of these examples, the binding narrative creates a sense of cohesion that heightens reader engagement. Readers know what to expect, but not in a predictable way—they’re eager to see how the next story will connect to the overarching theme. This trend adds a layer of depth and creativity, turning anthologies into more than just a collection of stories. The narratives intertwine, making the reading experience feel fuller, more connected.
For authors, contributing to anthologies with a binding narrative requires a higher level of collaboration and creativity. Every story needs to support the overarching theme, and the editor’s role becomes even more critical in ensuring each story strengthens the promise made to the reader. The reward, however, is a collection that feels like a single, cohesive book, offering a much more immersive experience for readers.
Binding narratives aren’t just a boon for storytelling—they also offer significant marketing advantages. It’s much easier to promote a collection with a strong, unified concept. Instead of marketing each story separately, you can craft a campaign around the central theme or premise of the anthology. This makes it easier for readers to grasp what the collection offers and creates a stronger hook for potential readers.
I believe this trend of binding narratives is here to stay and will only grow. It offers a way to make anthologies more marketable and provides a more engaging reading experience. Authors considering publishing their own collections should think about how they can incorporate a binding narrative to create a stronger, more cohesive promise to their readers. Whether it’s a shared setting, an overarching narrator, or a recurring event, these narratives can turn a series of standalone stories into a unified, powerful experience.