Nominated for Best New Book at the "Manitoba Book Awards" The Imagination Manifesto Book Two is a graphic (as in bloody) novel about robots, superheroes, monsters, and cowboys that decide our future will be dark, beautiful, and illusive. Writer/Artist GMB Chomichuk mashes the poetry of John Toone and the screenplay of James Rewucki into this literary experiment where mind-altering agents and the unimaginable define the cosmopolitan as something scary.
Kristina's coven of vampires come over to rescue her with their own blood but as she revives she cannot resist being with her little group of human subjects who provide her with such delicious sex.
Will it be her un-doing?
A mesmerizing novel of four generations of Southwestern women bound to a mythical legacy With its family secrets and hallowed texts containing explosive truths, The Night Journal suggests A. S. Byatt's Possession transplanted to the raw and beautiful landscape of the American Southwest. Meg Mabry has spent her life oppressed by her family's legacy--a heritage beginning with the journals written by her great-grandmother in the 1890s and solidified by her grandmother Bassie, a famous historian who published them to great acclaim. Until now, Meg has stubbornly refused to read the journals. But when she concedes to accompany the elderly and vipertongued Bassie on a return trip to the fabled land of her childhood in New Mexico, Meg finally succumbs to the allure of her great-grandmother's story--and soon everything she believed about her family is turned upside down.
Legendary language guru, author of more than twenty-five books, and Pulitzer-prize winning political columnist, William Safire is perhaps best known for his weekly "On Language" column for the New York Times. From slang to spin, Safire has for nearly four decades, shown us how the English language is a living, breathing and ever-evolving organism, that should never, ever be taken at face value.
This is particularly true of the political jargon cast out by politicians, pundits, and the press. When Safire catches these colorful and slippery specimens of "polingo" in his lexicographer's net, his probing reveals them to be as curious and revealing of our historical past as our present. Want to know what the politicians are really saying, or trying to say? Then check out the newly revised edition of Safire's Political Dictionary--a magnum opus of U.S. political terminology. In it, Safire shares with readers his expert dissection of politico-speak to uncover its deeper meanings and broader significance.
This fully updated reference volume is essential and highly entertaining reading for voters of all persuasions and just about anyone interested in American political culture. --Lauren Nemroff Questions for William Safire Amazon.com: What was your purpose in writing Safire's Political Dictionary? What do you hope that readers will gain from exploring the shallows and depths of American political vocabulary? Safire: This is a language that can inspire or inflame. Goal number one is to help anyone watching or listening to the cut and thrust of political debate to catch the hidden nuances--the code words and dog-whistle politics that manipulate emotions. Goal Two: to provide readers with accurate, anecdotal definitions of earmark, murder board, robo call, slow-walk.
The deepest purpose of this longterm love of my literary life (see alliteration) is to allow the voter to experience and enjoy the historical resonance of the latest slogans, the roots of our awful smears, the thoughtful talking pointsand stirring hoopla. Amazon.com: Striped-pants diplomacy, lame duck, salami tactics, stalking horse, bedsheet ballot, and hail of dead cats.
Why does the sphere of politics seem to produce some of the most robust and colorful language? You've even added a new term to our lexicon for political language: "polingo". Or is there also something particular about American English that lends itself to inventive turns of phrase, neologisms and catchy clichés? Safire: A would-be leader or political journalist has to seize our attention with word-pictures that uplift or infuriate. "Leaving under a cloud" can't compare with the metaphor of "in a hail of dead cats". American English delights in the transfer of sports terms to politics: that stalking horse is brother to the party wheelhorse as pols engage in horse-trading--but that dark horse can bolt and the front-runner may not be a shoo-in.
(I learned that last word from a racetrack cop: when a group of corrupt jockeys form a pool to wager on a long shot, they hold back their mounts and "shoo in" the nag they bet on, which is why the term in politics means "sure winner".) American presidents and their writers reach for those memorable metaphors. Lincoln, the best presidential writer, took a militant phrase suggested to him on the eve of Civil War--"the guardian angel of our nation"--and seeking to conciliate the South, changed it to "the better angels of our nature". When you know that, as I discovered when researching this book, you better appreciate the subtlety and poetry of his First Inaugural. Amazon.com: Do you think it possible to write a truly objective political dictionary? Or did you find yourself imposing checks and balances? Safire: Of course it's possible if you're willing to knock yourself out to be bipartisan. Not nonpartisan, which is color, nor partisan, which is slanted, and not even postpartisan, which I slipped in at the last moment before the Oxford printer snatched my final draft--a nice coinage taking over from above politics and is being applied to the Obama campaign. I was for three decades a lonely writer on the right on the op-ed page of the New York Times, and in this dictionary, whenever modesty afflicts me, I cite as a source "a vituperative right-wing scandalmonger", a sort of nom de plume. However, in this determinedly down-the-middle dictionary, for every bleeding heart, knee-jerk, double-domed liberal, there is a mossback, troglodyte, hidebound conservative, as well as a contingent of me-too, mainstream, opportunist centrists. Even within some entries, the reader will find colorful antonyms: the scholarly etymology of moonbat, born as an epithet hooting at leftists in 1999 and popularized two years later on the libertarian website Samizdata, gets fair and balanced treatment by my straight-faced analysis of wingnut, an updating of the 1960s"right-wing nut" used in a 1999 interview with website muckraker Matt Drudge. Amazon.com: Which politicians were the most enjoyable to research and write about for this new edition? Have any documents or speech recordings come to light that significantly changed your perception of a particular historical figure or period since you last revised the dictionary back in 1993? Safire: In the past century, nobody tops the two Roosevelts for colorful and historic coinages. President Theodore Roosevelt minted bully pulpit and big stick, still in active use today, swung lunatic fringe from the fashion world to politics and borrowed boxing's hat in the ring; Teddy also popularized weasel words, pussyfooting, parlor pink and mollycoddle. FDR more than matched his cousin: arsenal of democracy, four freedoms, rendezvous with destiny (based on the poet Alan Seeger's "rendezvous with death") were only the beginning; because I had the chance to interview FDR speechwriters Samuel Rosenman and Raymond Moley forty years ago, readers today can get some insight into the origins of New Deal, nothing to fear but fear itself, and day of infamy. (Speechwriters, even those of us with a passion for anonymity, don't always agree on credit.) Say what you like about Nixon (silent majority, lift of a driving dream, workfare) but the Watergate scandal that ended his administration spawned the Golden Age of Political Coinage: cover-up, Deep Throat, deep-six, enemies list, firestorm, plumbers, smoking gun, twisting slowly, slowly in the wind--the list goes on and the phrases are in current use.
Reagan gave us evil empire, make my day, morning in America, there you go again and was slammed with sleaze factor and amiable dunce). The elder Bush had read my lips, line in the sand, thousand points of light, kinder and gentler nation and was hit with wimp factor, out of the loop and voodoo economics. Bill Clinton had Comeback Kid, triangulation, war room and was attacked with Hillarycare, Whitewater, and the lingo of Monicagate. The younger Bush --- Dubya--started with compassionate conservative, faith-based, and the soft bigotry of low expectations but was soon embroiled in the war on terror, axis of evil, regime change, freedom agenda, misunderestimate, stay the course, and surge. In answer to your question, I enjoyed it all. Amazon.com: Out of nearly 550,000 words, do you have any particular favorites? Is there a word or phrase from the first edition, published forty years ago, that has regrettably fallen out of favor, but really merits resurrection? Safire: I get a kick out of the proverbs of politics and present my collection of about fifty of them with pride. The older ones include Woodrow Wilson's Never murder a man who's committing suicide. And I found the origin to Fiorello LaGuardia's Ticker tape ain't spaghetti. But here are a couple with follow-up kickers: Don't get mad, get even was attributed to the Kennedy clan, but its corollary is more profound: Don't get mad, don't get even, just get elected--THEN get even. Attributed to Harry Truman is the uncharacteristically cynical If you want a friend in Washington, buy a dog. Its recent corollary, by Don Rumsfeld and revealed in this dictionary, is Better make it a small dog, because it may turn on you also. Lost phrases? We live in an era of frenetic activity, which is too often is a substitute for steady action.
In the 18th century, Sir James Mackintosh, famed for disciplined inaction, topped himself with masterly inactivity. In our time, George Shultz, Reagan's Treasury Secretary, gave that a modern imperative: Don't just do something, stand there.. Amazon.com: You call this dictionary your "labor of love." How do you feel about passing the baton off to a new editor when it comes time to work on the next edition? Safire: A political lexicographer gets a secret thrill out of discovering the origin of a phrase that, but for his digging, might disappear into the mists of Newsweek. Sometimes you just stumble across it like one of the princes of Serendip: an example is selling candidates like soap, which never had a demonstrable printed "attestation". But looking for the origin of Oval Office, I stumbled across it in the Times archives: put forward by a supporter of a general for president in 1920. Col. William Proctor, scion of the Ivory Soap family, was the demonstrable coiner. A minor triumph, but mine own. More important to this work was the result of a "fishhook"--a query placed in my Times Magazine "On Language" column for the coiner of "Social Security is the third rail of American politics--touch it and you die." Henry Hubbard of Newsweek and Tom Oliphant of the Boston Globe agreed on the anonymous source: the late Kirk O'Donnell, an aide to Speaker Tip O'Neill, who used it to both journalists in 1984. Whew! The coiner's widow sent me a lovely, sentimental letter of thanks, which I suppose has no place in a dictionary, but I put it in anyway because my name is in this dictionary's title. I hope the editor of the 2018 edition of this hefty volume is making notes about the election of '08, parsing Barack Obama's speeches ("Fired up! Ready to go!") and Hillary Clinton's debate ripostes and John McCain's adoption of FDR's warm my friends as his salutation. This work, like the language it covers, is great fun and never finished.
When Nona Conklin brings him a painting by the great-grandfather she never knew, gallery owner Timothy Randolph knows he's found the project of a lifetime: curating a spectacular cache of folk art hidden for decades in the mountains of her home. "God never made a lazier man than Cecil Conklin. Never put a more slothful soul in a fella big enough to wrestle an ox to the ground." The Conklin Collection is haunted and haunting, powerful in its brutal simplicity.
What looks like the work of a fevered imagination begins to appear more and more like the desperate attempts of a man toiling at the edge of his limits to depict what cannot be depicted… An underlying order as old as the hills, its thousand throats concealed beneath the roots and rocks, between the streams and trees, deep in the besieged mountains of Appalachia. "My momma said it was their eighteenth summer when Cecil started shooting up like a weed again.
That ain't normal." But the most crucial painting of all is missing.
And the only place it could be is the last place that should be searched. "The rest, I think they always knew deep down Cecil was the one in trouble, that something was after him already. He never should've gone over the mountain." I'll Bring You the Birds From Out of the Sky is a tale of art and obsession, of a dying heritage and cosmic horror, brought to rustic life with full-color paintings by artist Kim Parkhurst.
Megan Massacre, one of the most popular tattoo artists and reality TV stars with starring roles in TLC's NY Ink and America's Worst Tattoos, brings her wildly popular art style to a coloring book. Tattoo artist Megan Massacre invites adult coloring book fans into her whimsical world of sugar skulls, sailing ships, mermaids, owls, and more. Now you can add your own bold, vibrant colors to her signature edgy and artistic tattoo designs--and tear each perforated page out for display!
One day she is Linda Farley, a senior in a San Diego high school, with a talent for art, an annoying younger brother, two loving parents, and a prospective boyfriend. Three days later, she is Lainie Foster, hiding with her mother and brother in Olympia, Washington. That's how fast things change after Linda's mother tells her that her father has been caught by the feds in a Mafia money laundering scheme and that the rest of the family has been placed in the Witness Protection Program. By the rules she's given, she must stay out of school, cut off contact with anyone back home, and never tell anyone what has happened. Linda -- now Lainie -- does her best, but in navigating her new life, she faces a number of questions. How could her father do something so contrary to her image of him? Why is her mother so familiar with their new city? How can she pursue a career in art without going to school? What must she do to save her brother from the worst effects of the upheaval? And who is that dark-haired woman she keeps spotting in front of the house? Then there's the biggest question of all: Is she Linda or is she Lainie? Because, in the end, is the choice really anyone's but hers? ///////////////////////////////////////////////// Anne L. Watson, a retired historic preservation architecture consultant, is the author of numerous novels, plus books on such diverse subjects as soapmaking and baking with cookie molds. She currently lives in Friday Harbor, Washington, in the San Juan Islands, with her husband and fellow author, Aaron Shepard.
///////////////////////////////////////////////// SAMPLE "Lainie," Mom said, her voice a little gentler, "we have to follow the rules, whether we like them or not." "The rules are nuts, Mom," I protested. "Like making us keep our old initials.
So the Mafia is too stupid to check the passenger lists for trains and planes leaving Southern California? You think they won't look for two A.
F.'s and an L.F. with one-way tickets to the same place?" Mom moved to the right to let a tailgating Jeep speed ahead. "That's one reason we're splitting up," she said. "WITSEC has never lost anyone who followed the rules," she said. "WITSEC?" I yelped. "Who the hell is that?" "The Witness Security Program. That's its other name." Sheesh. WITSEC. Like the FBI was such a buddy, we needed to give them a nickname. My face itched, and I rubbed it hard. "Don't do that," Mom said. "You'll rub off your makeup." "It feels like dirt. I don't know how you put up with it." "You get used to it.
Especially when you have more important things to worry about." Well, we had that, in spades. I'd just dumped someone I really wanted to go out with. I wouldn't be going to art school next year, because that's what Linda Farley would have done. I had to be someone else, probably forever. Compared to that, grease all over my face really was a detail.
I gave up and quit talking about it. Whining wasn't going to do any good. Mom kept quiet too, watching the traffic.
In the front seat, Alan sang some dumb song from a TV kids' show, over and over. But, as Mom had said, I had more important things to worry about. We took the Alameda Street exit and pulled into the train station. "What are you going to do with the car when you get to the airport?" I asked. "Leave it in a parking lot with the window down and the keys in the ignition." Even the Mafia wouldn't have a chance if she did that. The locals would have that car in a chop shop faster than the Godfather could blink.