I didn’t get shaky-roller-coaster-feel from his stories even though this collection (one of his oldest), varies from free-form prose poetry to the redone fairy tale to the simply new and brilliant. Which leads to my abject delight at Gaiman’s ability to so perfectly encapsulate a short story. The surprises and turns of Gaiman’s twisted imagination is exactly what I needed to get from one plot to another. I loved them, and I read them voraciously when the sun was out and my roommate was home. Thanks to his patience, I have a newfound understanding of the short story, and decided to start off the year by revisiting the first short story collection I ever finished, Neil Gaiman’s “Smoke and Mirrors.” When I read this four years ago, the stories disturbed me so much I had to stop reading them before bed. But it’s the genre my mentor most likes to teach, so I’ve found myself reading a lot of it lately. The whipping from one plot to another so quickly makes my brain feel like it’s on a very shaky roller coaster. For years I’ve had issues with short story collections.
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