Many readers know Neil Gaiman for his novels (American Gods, Stardust, Coraline) and comics (The Sandman), which are, admittedly, all brilliant and well worth your time. (Go read them, is that what I’m saying.) But what you might not know is that Gaiman is also a prolific short story writer, and has churned out dozens upon dozens of tales that include fairytale retellings, contemporary horror stories, murder mysteries, and several additional tales from the worlds of his novels.
Set in the worlds of Sherlock Holmes, C.S. Lewis, and H.P. Lovecraft as well as our own, Gaiman’s best short stories are those that take the things that are familiar and make them seem magical, recast the mundane with a sheen of the otherworldly, and generally have banger endings you won’t see coming.
Here are our picks for the fifteen best short stories in Neil Gaiman’s expansive, impossible catalog.
The Case of Death and Honey
Gaiman has written a couple of short stories set in the world of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s famous detective Sherlock Holmes (stay tuned for the second later on in this list). “The Case of Death and Honey” explores the origins of Holmes’s later-in-life fascination with beekeeping, and offers a compelling theory about why the elderly version of the character becomes so obsessed with such a seemingly mundane hobby. (The man did do a ton of cocaine and chased criminals on the regular, after all.)
The story of Holmes’s growing apiary obsession is intertwined with that of an elderly Chinese beekeeper on the other side of the world, whose bizarre, aggressive wild mountain bees set him apart from the rest of his community. The tale mixes in elements of Doyle’s own The Adventure of the Creeping Man in a way that will delight fans of the original. (Also, spoiler alert: The ending of this story is perfect, and I wish I could read more of Gaiman’s idea of this universe.)
Read It In: Trigger Warning, The Neil Gaiman Reader, Weird Detectives: Recent Investigations
The Return of the Thin White Duke
Look, I’m not sure that I really need to write anything beyond Neil Gaiman basically wrote fanfiction about David Bowie to justify the inclusion of “The Return of the Thin White Duke” on this list, but, just in case, here goes.
This is a beautiful tale about self-creation, an alien fairytale that’s something of an origin story for one of Bowie’s most famous personas, a love letter to the man himself, and a perfect encapsulation of the deeply weird, consistently magical vibe he possessed that so many of us fell in love with. Bowie’s various personae have certainly inspired more than their fair share of art in multiple mediums—Gaiman himself very clearly used him as the visual inspiration for Lucifer in The Sandman—but this is perhaps the fictional version that feels the most like it might also actually be kind of true.
Read It In: Trigger Warning, The Neil Gaiman Reader, or on Neil Gaiman’s website
Murder Mysteries
A young Englishman in Los Angeles finds himself stuck in California due to bad weather and delayed flights. During his delay, he visits an ex-girlfriend and meets a strange man in a local park, who regales him with a story of angels, creation, and the very first murder in a far-off heavenly city. (As well as the angel detective who is tasked to solve it.) The tale the mysterious stranger tells would be enough reason on its own for this story to exist—it’s a fascinating look at the sort of hierarchical heavenly bureaucracy that I always picture at work behind the scenes in Good Omens (which was originally published two years before this work)—but it’s larger narrative framework makes for fascinating debate about who, exactly, is telling this tale and why.
One of Gamain’s short stories that encourages—-and really gets even better with—-repeat readings, “Murder Mysteries” is a tale about everything from free will and determinism to love, mercy, and justice. (And, of course, the ever present Ineffable Plan.)
Read It In: Midnight Graffiti, Angels and Visitations, Smoke and Mirrors, The Neil Gaiman Reader
The Thing About Cassandra
A story that Gaiman says is based on his own experiences making up an imaginary girlfriend whose name he doodled on a school book, “The Thing About Cassandra” follows the story of a young man named Stuart who essentially does the same. He writes down the name “Cassandra” and pretends she is real, all so his classmates will stop asking him when he’d get a girlfriend. Stuart really commits to the bit as well, making up dates with her, claiming he’s lost his virginity to her, and inventing a fake breakup when she’s supposedly forced to move to Canada with her family.
Years later, he’s shocked when a friend informs him Cassandra is back in town and would love the chance to get back in touch with her first love. Stuart, naturally, is quite taken aback by this, given that he knows she doesn’t exist. What follows is an intriguing exploration of perception and reality that is clever, creepy, and tragic by turns.
Read It In: Trigger Warning, Songs of Love and Death, The Neil Gaiman Reader
A Study in Emerald
A brilliant mash-up that blends the world of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes with H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulu Mythos, “A Study in Emerald” is certainly one of the most original takes on this universe you’ll ever read. A riff on Conan Doyle’s first Holmes tale “A Study in Scarlet,” the story has everything you might expect from such a retelling—a brilliant consulting detective, a loyal sidekick, a mysterious murder involving the word rache painted on a wall.
But this London exists in a world where the Great Old Ones have come and conquered, and rule humanity with a surprisingly benevolent hand. And when one of their offspring turns up dead, a race to find their killer follows through pages packed with Conan Doyle references, resistance fighters who want to restore humanity’s right to self-determination, and a gut punch of an ending that will turn everything you think you know about Gaiman’s version of Holmes’s world on its head.
Read It In: Fragile Things, Shadows Over Baker Street, The Neil Gaiman Reader, Neil Gaiman’s website in a fantastic broadsheet format
Snow, Glass, Apples
A dark and forbidding retelling of the story of Snow White, Snow, Glass, Apples flips the legend on its head and tells it from the perspective of the wicked stepmother and (alleged) Evil Quee. (Who is perhaps not the monster she’s remembered to be.) Here, she was once a young woman who fell in love with a king and who ruled wisely and justly at his side. But there is the small problem of her monstrous stepdaughter, a deadly creature she knows in her bones is a threat to her kingdom, but which she can’t quite figure out how to destroy.
Though the most familiar elements from this tale are all present—poisoned apples, dwarf-like men, a glass coffin—none of them are deployed in the way you expect, and the story contains both violence and graphic sex. The matter-of-fact way in which the stepmother recounts the increasingly horrifying things happening around her is particularly unnerving, and you’ll find it hard to look at the Disney version of this story again anytime soon.
Read It In: Smoke & Mirrors, Twice Cursed, The Neil Gaiman Reader, a particularly beautiful graphic novel version illustrated by Collen Doran
How the Marquis Got His Coat Back
A companion short story to Gaiman’s 1996 novel Neverwhere, “How the Marquis Got His Coat Back” was published in 2015 and features a self-contained tale about one of the original novel’s most memorable characters. (Note: This story does contain a rather important plot spoiler for the events of Neverwhere, so proceed with caution if you’ve not read that particular book yet.)
The Marquis de Carabas is famous throughout London Below for many things, not the least of which is his very fancy, extremely stylish coat. So when he loses this garment which holds so much of his own sense of self, he immediately sets off to get it back, an adventure that will bring him face to face with the gang lord-esque Elephant who controls Elephant & Castle as well as the body horror deconstructions caused by the terrifying Shepherds of Shepherd’s Bush. This is a real treat for anyone who enjoys Gaiman’s detailed, delightful reimagining of the literal underground side of London, and a fine showcase for one of Neverwhere’s most interesting characters, whose perspective we don’t see much of in the original novel.
Read It In: How the Marquis Got His Coat Back, The Neil Gaiman Reader, Rogues, the Author’s Preferred Text Edition of Neverwhere
October in the Chair
A story that Gaiman himself refers to as a dry run for his novel The Graveyard Book, “October in the Chair” follows anthropomorphic versions of the months of the year, who regularly gather together to tell stories around a campfire. As the title suggests our main character is October, whose turn it is to tell a tale.
What he comes up with is a haunting heartrending tale of a lonely boy named Donald, who struggles to fit in with a family that openly favors his older, more athletic brothers. Nicknamed the Runt by his bullying siblings, his parents and schoolmates eventually also adopt the cruel moniker, as poor Donald fantasizes about what it might be like to run away. When he finally does so, he meets a ghostly young boy in a graveyard and wonders where he really belongs. The story’s ambiguous ending is just one of Gaiman’s unconventional choices here, and I personally would love to hear the story November might tell.
Read It In: Fragile Things, Coraline & Other Stories, M is for Magic, The Neil Gaiman Reader
The Problem of Susan
One of the most frustrating things about C.S. Lewis’s Narnia books is the way the series almost completely abandons Susan Pevensie. Left behind when her siblings cross over into Aslan’s country, she is declared to be no longer a friend of Narnia and told to focus on her adult life in the real world. Life in the real world meaning nylons, lipstick, the rest of her family dying in a train crash, and we never actually find out what happens to her in the end. To Susan, who was once a High Queen in Narnia.
Susan’s fate is something that Gaiman himself also clearly finds problematic—his conception of her is deeply warm and kind, and her life is generally presented as a satisfying one, even as he acknowledges the tragedy she has endured. He allows her to express a sort of wearied anger that’s very satisfying for all of us who’ve spent years being bitter on her behalf.
Read It In: Fragile Things, The Neil Gaiman Reader
We Can Get Them For You Wholesale
When boring, every day Peter Pinter discovers his girlfriend is cheating on him, he sets out to get revenge by having the man she’s sleeping with killed. Only, it’s a lot more difficult to find a good killer for hire than you’d think. (Pest control, it would seem, does not apply to humans.) But when Peter finally finds a group of assassins in the phone book whose contract killings come at surprisingly affordable rates, his dedication to getting a good bargain will ask him to question how far he’s willing to go to save a few quid.
“We Can Get Them for You Wholesale” often reads like Harlan Ellis and Roald Dahl had a bizarre, strangely humorous lovechild, but its ending is the sort that will stay with you well after you move on to reading something else. Absurd and still somehow absolutely chilling.
Read It In: Smoke and Mirrors, Angels and Visitations, Bangs & Whimpers: Stories About the End of the World, The Neil Gaiman Reader
Sunbird
Gaiman’s “Sunbird” follows the story of the Epicurean Club, a group of wealthy elites who pride themselves on having eaten virtually everything that’s worth eating. Every type of cuisine, ranging from bugs to flash frozen mammoth meat, if you can consume it, they’ve tried it. Only now they’re all a bit blue—after all, what good is having an Epicurean Club if there are no more peerless food experiences for them to share?
But when one of their number suggests heading to Eygpt to sample the extremely rare creature known as the Sunbird of Sun Town, they’ll try to track down one last unprecedented meal. “Sunbird” is written in the style of R. A. Lafferty and, as such, is not particularly subtle about where its story is ultimately headed—but that doesn’t make it any less fun or satisfying to read.
Read It In: Fragile Things, Unnatural Creatures, The Neil Gaiman Reader
How to Talk to Girls at Parties
One of Gaiman’s most impressive talents is his ability to effortlessly mix the fantastical into the everyday. In his works, an angel might well own the bookshop next door or a god might be driving the next cab you. A similar twist sits at the heart of “How to Talk to Girls at Parties,” a story that initially seems as though it’s entirely too normal to be by Neil Gaiman. Until it isn’t.
The tale of a shy teenager dragged to a party by his outgoing friend, Enn is simply trying to figure out how he’s supposed to talk to girls. His bestie Vic is a natural, and, in fact, it’s his idea that they crash this particular event—it’s supposed to be full of girls whom they met on a school trip abroad. But when they unknowingly end up at the wrong party “foreign exchange” takes on an entirely new meaning. “How to Talk to Girls at Parties” contains some of Gaiman’s funniest dialogue and an open-ended conclusion that leaves you wondering what kind of men Vic and Enn eventually grew up to be.
Read It In: Fragile Things, The Neil Gaiman Reader, a graphic novel version with art by Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá, and on Neil Gamian’s website
The Wedding Present
If you’ve read any of Gaiman’s short story anthologies, you’re probably already aware of his tendency to include an additional tale within the pages of his introduction to the collection. “The Wedding Present” appears in the introduction to his fairytale and fable laden Smoke and Mirrors, and is a story of love, loss, and what we’re willing to sacrifice to keep the things we care for most close to us.
According to Gaiman, “The Wedding Present” was originally meant to be a gift to some friends on the occasion of their marriage—or at least some version of the story that eventually became “The Wedding Present” was—but given its decidedly non-reassuring subject matter was eventually scrapped in favor of something more mundane and reception appropriate. But it’s got an all-time banger of an ending, of the sort that makes you lose your breath once you realize what it all actually means.
Read It In: The introduction of the Smoke and Mirrors anthology, The Neil Gaiman Reader
The Monarch of the Glen
Technically more of a novella than a short story, “The Monarch of the Glen” sees Gaiman return to the world of his bestselling novel American Gods and continue the tale of Shadow Moon. Shadow, having left America for Europe for reasons that are major spoilers for the ending of that book, is now touring around the wilds of northern Scotland when he meets a mysterious man who offers him a weekend job as a bouncer for a posh party. The guests and purpose of that party are, unsurprisingly, much more than they initially appear to be, leaving Shadow once again in the middle of a battle he never asked to be part of.
Inspired by Beowulf, “The Monarch of the Glen” deals with many of the same themes as that famous epic poem, as well as a particularly fantastic re-imagining of the relationship between Grendel and his mother that’s strangely heartrending.
Read It In: Fragile Things: The Neil Gaiman Reader
Strange Little Girls
Admittedly the most self-indulgent choice on this list (sorry in advance, y’all), “Strangle Little Girls” technically isn’t one short but twelve tiny ones, each written to accompany a song on Tori Amos’s 2001 Strange Little Girls album. That record, a covers album in which Amos remade twelve songs by male artists from a female perspective—including “Raining Blood,” “Heart of Gold,” and “Enjoy the Silence”— features multiple personas and stories within it, and Gaiman wrote a small, jewel-like tale to go along with each one
For those of us who have long appreciated the relationship between Gaiman and Amos’s works—I personally found The Sandman thanks to a reference in a song from Tori Amos’ Little Earthquakes album—”Strange Little Girls” is the best sort of gift. (And I’d read full versions of every one of those vignettes, just saying.)
Read It In: Fragile Things, The Neil Gaiman Reader, the Strange Little Girls liner notes, 2001 Tori Amos Strange Little Girls Tour Book
Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB