TO BE held in cupped hands and passed around with wonder, the storied worlds of I'll Give You Something to Cry About constitute a grouping born of spellbinding cosmic dust. Once more assuming the mantle of Story's guardian, Corey Mesler sets to work at not only protecting and preserving, but pondering, playing, prodding, and perambulating within the bounds of narrative creation and exhaustion. Whether in the form of wife- and life-stealing bear, manuscript-eating desk, disillusioned newlywed couple, title-swapping library collection, or man bent on redefining his neurotic existence, these tales—fabled, monstrous, Southern, intimate, meta, everyday, other, biblical, and minor—effect a coalescence of teller and listener that is nothing short of celestial.