Talk to anyone who has edited an anthology, planned a Noir at the Bar, or even just tried to figure out where to go for dinner, and you’ll get the same sentiment—where writers are concerned, organizing anything is like herding cats.

Except it really isn’t true.

I mean, it is true where an anthology is concerned, no question. And I’ve never put together a NATB, so I can’t say for sure on that count. And the going to dinner part? Definitely. It plays out dozens of times at every conference. 

But where my series A Grifter’s Song is concerned, hardly at all.

Let me back up. First off, what is A Grifter’s Song? It is a serial anthology of novellas featuring a pair of grifters, Sam and Rachel, who love each other and the game. As for the rest of the world, though? Not so much. To make their lives more difficult, there is the constant threat from the Philadelphia mob, which is trying to catch up to them after Sam and Rachel ripped it off in the recent past. This sword of Damocles is present throughout the series, sometimes lurking in the background, sometimes very much causing immediate peril.

Each novella in this anthology is written by a different author, is set in a different locale, and features a separate (and complete) con of some sort. Writers bring their own style and voice to the project. While there is a series bible that lays out the foul lines they must stay within, each writer has a tremendous amount of latitude in how to tell the tale—tone, tense, point-of-view, it is all up for grabs.

The series was originally presented in a season format, with six episodes per season. A seventh, bonus episode was included for those who were season subscribers as opposed to a la carte episode purchasers. A paperback compilation was published at the end of each season. This subscription model was a cool idea that ended up not working, so the publisher, Down and Out Books, switched over to using Kindle Unlimited after the third season.

We are now in season five.

The final season.

On October 1, 2023, the thirty-fifth and final episode, Into the Dying Sun, was released. This is the last chapter in the saga of Sam and Rachel. It is a story that has been told collectively by thirty different authors over five years.

Yes, thirty.

And these are people you probably know, especially if you follow crime fiction. Probably the best known at the moment is S.A. Cosby, who wrote #20 Ride Like Hell. But the rest of the roster also reads like a who’s who of crime writers. Take a moment and pull up the series and scroll through. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised at some of the names you see. Not only because they are good writers but because they are a diverse bunch.

By “diverse,” I mostly mean in terms of style and storytelling approach. But the word applies in other ways, too—men and women of all types, from all over the country.

Uh-oh. Sounds like a potential cat-herding situation.

I expected it to be. Even after the first couple of seasons of it not happening, I kept wondering if it would. I mean, they’re writers, aren’t they? 

And yet, it never did.

Maybe I should define what “it” is, at least in the context I’m using it here. I’m referring to some of the most frequent complaints anthology editors have when it comes to authors. Missing initial deadlines. Ignoring or outright violating the guidelines. Taking forever to get back on revisions and resisting said revisions. Things like that.

In the case of A Grifter’s Song, the authors got the aforementioned series bible, which laid out the parameters for the work. The author was required to submit a brief synopsis—even a single paragraph would do—detailing the setting for the story, the concept of the con, and the outcome. As editor, I had to approve this, but I don’t recall ever having to say no, and only occasionally having to offer a tweak. After the synopsis, there was a draft deadline, followed by edits to complete. 

Pretty straightforward.

Which generally means nothing to writers. (I should know—I am one, too). Rules are in place for others to follow, right?

However, almost to a person, the participants followed the guidelines to a tee. Succinct synopses were submitted. Drafts were in on time. Revisions went smoothly and quickly. And, best of all, the stories were fantastic. And wildly different.

Now, I won’t paint a completely Pollyanna picture here. Along the way, in one season, we did have to drop an author from the project because he refused to be edited. Much later, I got the sense that his reluctance had more to do with where he was emotionally at that moment in time than actual stubbornness as a personality trait. Oh, and there was another author who submitted an unsolicited manuscript that was a very good story but not at all a fit for the series. 

That’s it. That is the sum total of my “negative” dish on editing this series. I wish I had some better stories to tell—it’d make bar time at conferences more interesting, if snarky. But the writers who are featured in this series proved to be not only excellent at their craft, but professional and courteous as well. They handled these two characters, Sam and Rachel, with respect and sometimes even affection, which I greatly appreciated. 

I had to do very little herding and the authors in question did not resemble cats in that respect at all. Instead, they wrote unique stories in different settings that tested Sam and Rachel in new ways each time out. 

If you like con stories, this series is for you. If you like a particular author, their episode is for you. If you’re wondering how a formula can stay fresh over thirty-five installments… this series if for you.

As things are winding down to an end, the biggest thought that keeps sounding off in my head is how proud I am of these twenty-nine authors. I feel like they gave me their best effort each time out and the result was a tremendous story… over and over again. Under the hand of each author this pair faced mobsters, assassins, socialites, movie producers, pimps, arms dealers, corrupt cops, investors, bible thumpers, art thieves, budding filmmakers, real estate moguls, other grifters, horse semen smugglers, psychologists, the uber-rich, ghosts, kidnappers and cultists, fixers, retired crooks, cryptid carnies, and more. 

Through it all, the couple remained true to each other and to who they were. That takes some skill when there are thirty different cooks in their kitchen. So, I give an appreciative tap of the keyboard to all of the authors who contributed—it’s been one hell of a ride, but it’s been grand, thanks to you.

***