Life & Wisdom Quote by Lynn Abbey

There is a bracing democracy in Abbey's image of the anthology editor standing on a beach, letting the "tide" deliver whatever arrives. It's an inviting posture, but not a sentimental one. "All comers, established and unknown" sounds like a manifesto for access, yet the metaphor quietly reminds you that openness doesn't mean preciousness. The sea doesn't curate; it disgorges. What shows up can be treasure, driftwood, or something dead. Editors in this model aren't gatekeepers lounging behind velvet ropes; they're laborers with wet shoes and a constant intake of the unexpected.

The specific intent is to normalize - even celebrate - the mixed economy of literary slush: the point of an open anthology is range, surprise, and discovery, not just polishing familiar names. Abbey is also implicitly defending editors against the charge of snobbery. If you're willing to read what "washes up", you're committing to attention, not pedigree.

Subtext: the generosity is real, but so is the grind. "Willing to read whatever" carries both virtue and fatigue, a hint that openness creates its own brutal workload. The beachside humility also masks power. The editor may not control what the ocean brings, but they control what gets carried inland, what gets labeled art instead of debris.

Context matters: Abbey comes out of a professional writing world where themed anthologies and shared universes have long been pipelines for careers, especially in genre fiction. Her line doubles as advice and warning to writers: the door is open; the water is cold; your job is to float.