Reading a Kelly Link story is like riding a seesaw. I love seesaws, even though I’m forty-eight years old and haven’t ridden on a seesaw in like forever. It doesn’t matter–if I was at a park with my kids and I saw a seesaw, by God, I would ride it.

Anyway. There are definitely two sides to seesaw riding. When you’re up in the air, it is glorious. It’s like swinging without handholds. It’s free and slightly scary and exhilarating. When you’re on the bottom, though, it’s, well, it’s kind of odd. You know you’re going to get lifted up real soon, and that’s nice, but right now you’re scrunched over and your legs are at an uncomfortable angle. And you’re doing all the heavy lifting, pushing this other person into the air. They probably don’t have any idea how much work you’re doing right now. They probably don’t deserve to even be up there.

Kelly Link’s imagination is definitely top-of-the-seesaw material. It is hold-your-breath good. What do zombies buy in convenience stores? Kelly Link knows. She also know what happens when all of your stuff is suddenly haunted, or when you’re moving backwards through time while everyone else is still moving forward. She knows you should never go under a hill with a fairy or marry a dead woman. Kelly Link’s ideas are uniformly audacious and exciting (I bet Kelly never used the word “uniform” in a story before, because it’s not particularly audacious or exciting. Unless one of her characters was wearing a uniform. Perhaps we should just move on). Some critics might tell you ideas are a dime a dozen, and execution is what really matters. I would contend that those critics have never read a Kelly Link story.

You might have thought I forgot about the bottom of the seesaw–after all, the paragraph above was relatively long and meandering. I didn’t forget, though. Sometimes, Kelly goes a little too much over the top for my tastes. Her characters become caricatures or grotesques (Brenner in “Lull” putting pepper on everything, Gordon Strangle Mars and his singing toilet), or things happen that I just found unrealistic (which is an odd thing to say, probably, because Kelly isn’t going for verisimilitude here). While reading these stories, I sometimes felt like I was watching a really good stand-up comic–I laughed and laughed, but a few jokes fell flat.

Okay, enough criticism, because I really wish I had written a lot of these stories. I wish I wrote “Lull” and “Magic for Beginners,” and I really wish I wrote “Stone Animals.” I just need to figure out how. I mean, I’m not the idea factory Kelly is (although I’m definitely going to push myself to think outside the box and not be content with received ideas) and I can’t replicate her style (although I’m trying-see?). I could break the fourth wall, more, I guess, which Kelly did in almost every story in this collection. Or I could have my characters search for love, or be driven by the need for love (again seen in almost every story). I think I should admit that Kelly Link is sui generis, and not try to copy her. Instead, I choose to be inspired by her. Kelly Link’s work nearly shouts a message to all writers: Be bold. Be brave. Take Chances. Don’t be afraid to get dirt on your clothes. So I’ll try that. I’m guessing it will serve me pretty well.