Queer Horror Anthologies Make History

From time to time, I’ve been known to share an opinion or two. 

Stop laughing. I’ll wait.

Those opinions usually come from something I feel passionate about and never without factual basis—even if the conclusions drawn are up for debate. Last year around this time, I was publicly lamenting the fact that the Horror Writers Association had once again failed to elevate any queer horror anthologies onto the Bram Stoker Awards® final ballot. Note that when I refer to the Horror Writers Association, I refer to its membership-at-large, not its Board of Trustees, its officers, or the countless volunteers that somehow keep the behemoth venerable writing organization running. Its members—as a whole—failed once again to push through a single queer horror anthology. Here’s what I wrote at the time:

“Neither their jury system (put in place largely to balance the popularity contest aspect of the member vote) nor their membership have put a single LGBTQ+/queer horror anthology on the ballot since 2009. Likewise, not a single queer horror anthology has won since that same year. In fact, only one queer horror anthology has been nominated in the history of the category, which originated in 1998. A single queer horror anthology in 26 years. As a queer anthologist, this depresses me to no end. #StokersSoStraight?”

The single queer horror anthology that was nominated and won for Superior Achievement in an Anthology in 2009 was the first I’d edited (with Chad Helder) in the Unspeakable Horror anthology series—Unspeakable Horror: From the Shadows of the Closet (Dark Scribe Press, 2008). I remember returning to my Burbank hotel room after the awards ceremony and being overwhelmed by the congratulatory words and sentiments from LGBTQ writers from across the globe on social media. I felt as if I’d broken some invisible lavender ceiling that night and that its shattering would open the door to other queer anthologists and their queerly curated collections. Alas, the opposite would happen. It had taken 11 years for a single queer horror anthology to make its mark upon the Stokers anthology category; sadly, it would take 16 additional years after that nomination and win before another queer horror anthology made the final ballot. 

My criticism last year made the rounds—was cheered by some, frowned upon by others. Many stayed silent. Whatever the immediate reaction, I’d like to believe that my rebuke found its way into a few hearts and minds. Whether the HWA membership read a little more widely this year or the anthology jury placed some greater emphasis on diversity in its picks, I was positively thrilled yesterday when the final ballot was announced, and two queer horror anthologies were named finalists in the Superior Achievement in an Anthology category! Both Rob Costello’s We Mostly Come Out at Night: 15 Queer Tales of Monsters, Angels & Other Creatures (Running Press Kids, 2024) and Sofia Ajram’s Bury Your Gays: An Anthology of Tragic Queer Horror (Ghoulish Books, 2024) are in the running for the prestigious award this year. They have now made history as only the second and third, respectively, expressly LGBTQ+ horror anthologies to be nominated in the 27 years since the category originated. And should one of them win on the evening of June 14th, it will become only the second queer horror anthology to ever do so. Even better is the fact that these two queer horror anthologies are spectacularly dissimilar in tone and audience, demonstrating the breadth of queer horror. 

Representation in the genre I’ve loved since I was a kid old enough to watch Karen Black run around her apartment terrorized by that nasty little Zuni fetish doll has been a subject that’s near and dear to my heart for decades. Having once criticized the Horror Writers Association’s membership and jury for not including queer horror anthologies in its Bram Stoker Awards® final ballot, I want to publicly praise both for their inclusiveness in doing so this year—twice! And, lastly, just like I was inspired by fearless queer editors like Michael Rowe and his seminal Queer Fear duo of anthologies in crafting what has become the longest-running anthology series of original queer horror, I hope fledgling anthologists will, too, take inspiration from editors Costello and Ajram and dream up their own collections of queer horror and smash through even higher lavender ceilings. 

Elevating queer voices is more important, more vital than ever before.