What Is The Bordertown Series About?

Bordertown’s basically the ultimate 90s fantasy punk playground. A shared universe where elves and humans coexist in this anarchic, artsy district where magic glitches and street cred matters more than gold. The vibe’s like if 'Labyrinth' and 'Trainspotting' had a weird baby. Stories range from heists to coming-of-age tales, all steeped in this DIY aesthetic—characters are often buskers, poets, or thieves. The original anthology, 'Borderland,' set the tone: raw, inventive, and unapologetically weird. It’s not high fantasy; it’s fantasy with Doc Martens and a cigarette hanging out of its mouth.

The Bordertown series is this wild, magical mashup of urban fantasy and punk vibes that hooked me from the first page. Imagine a place where the human world brushes up against the realm of the elves, but it’s not some polished fairy tale—it’s gritty, chaotic, and alive with street musicians, runaways, and artists scraping by. The series is a shared universe, so different authors bring their own flavor to it, but the core idea is always this liminal space where technology sputters and magic is unreliable. It’s like if 'The Replacements' formed a band with Tolkien’s creatures, and they all crashed in the same squat.

What I love is how it captures that feeling of being on the edge of something bigger, where every alley might lead to a portal or a scam. The stories often focus on outsiders—kids who’ve fled their old lives, musicians chasing inspiration, or thieves navigating both human and elven politics. There’s a recurring theme of art as rebellion, which resonates hard. My favorite installment is probably 'Elsewhere' by Will Shetterly—it nails the bittersweet ache of growing up while the town itself refuses to. The whole series feels like a love letter to misfits.

Bordertown? Oh, it’s this cult-favorite anthology series where fantasy collides with counterculture. Think neon-lit dive bars where bards duel with enchanted guitars, and elf lords run underground vinyl presses. The setting is this unstable zone between worlds, where magic flickers like a bad Wi-Fi signal, and humans rub shoulders with the Fair Folk—except these elves aren’t ethereal; they’re more like rock stars with a superiority complex. The beauty of it is the collaborative worldbuilding; writers like Terri Windling and holly Black have left their mark, so the tone shifts from gritty to whimsical depending on the story.

I got into it through the short story 'Welcome to Bordertown,' which captures the series’ heart: a runaway human teen and a half-elf graffiti artist teaming up to survive. It’s got that 'found family' energy, but with more spells and less sentimentality. The way the series tackles identity—human vs. fae, artist vs. sellout—feels surprisingly fresh, even decades later. If you dig mythic fiction with a punk edge, it’s a must-read.