Some of my favorite authors have new releases coming out in 2026.
I can't wait!!
Nature & Books belong to the eyes that see them.
- Emerson
There is nothing unique or special in a near-death experience. They are not rare; everyone, I would venture, has had them, at one time or another, perhaps without even realizing it. The brush of a van too close to your bicycle, the tired medic who realises that a dosage ought to be checked one final time, the driver who has drunk too much and is reluctantly persuaded to relinquish the car keys, the train missed after sleeping through an alarm, the aeroplane not caught, the virus never inhaled, the assailant never encountered, the path not taken. We are, all of us, wandering around in a state of oblivion, borrowing our time, seizing our days, escaping our fates, slipping through loopholes, unaware of when the axe may fall.
I know I must nod calmly when people tell me they understand exactly how I feel because they have a gluten allergy, which makes them really bloated whenever they eat bread. I know to be patient and genial when I have to explain that, no, it’s not OK to bring that hummus into our house. No, it’s not a good idea to give her a little bit to get her used to it. No, please don’t open that near her. Yes, your lunch could kill my child.
But in the evenings when we sat in front of the fireplace talking, it always came back to the same things: she was lonely, she was depressed, she wanted a boyfriend, she couldn't understand why no one loved her. She told me that she often had a couple of drinks and a couple of Percocets before getting in her car after midnight in Vermont and driving a hundred miles an hour over the icy back roads to New York. She said that she wanted to tempt fate.
Oh, people like to say when they hear this part of the story, this is why you and Lucy are so close. You went through the same thing. [Referring to Ann's plastic surgery after an accident.] But nothing could be farther from the truth. I read one slim volume of the available information. Lucy read the library.
We shared our ideas like sweaters, with easy exchange and lack of ownership.
Now that the migrants are returning in greater number, I have added more feeders to each of the four locations: the patio, the verandah, the office porch, and on the other side of the bathroom window. Sichuan Sunflower Seeds. Vindaloo Suet Mini Balls. Farm-raised Mealworms. Vegan Nectar. Spicy Suet. Nuts & Chews & Bugs. Nyjer Nirvana. Graines Pour Oiseaux Sauvages. Alaskan Taste Water. These are signs of my descent into madness.
Sometimes they wish for a cold stiff wind, blustery rain, autumn leaves, reddened fingers, muddy legs, a curious dog, a startled rabbit, a leaping sudden deer, a puddle in a pothole, soaked feet, a slight hill, a fellow runner, a shaft of sun. Sometimes they just succumb to the uneventful windless humming of their sealed spacecraft. While they run, while they cycle, while they push and press, the continents and oceans fall away beneath--the lavender Arctic, the eastern tip of Russia vanishing behind, storms strengthening over the Pacific, the desert- and mountain-creased morning deserts of Chad, southern Russia and Mongolia and the Pacific once more.
They feel space trying to rid them of the notion of days. It says: what's a day? They insist it's twenty-four hours and ground crews keep telling them so, but it takes their twenty-four hours and throws sixteen days and nights at them in return. They cling to their twenty-four-hour clock because it's all the feeble little time-bound body knows -- sleep and bowels and all that is leashed to it. But the mind goes free within the first week. The mind is in a dayless freak zone, surfing earth's hurtling horizon. Day is here, and then they see night come upon them like a shadow of a cloud racing over a wheat field. Forty-five minutes later here comes day again, stamping across the Pacific. Nothing is what they thought it was.
I might have enjoyed this novel had I read it before Project Hail Mary. I'm curious to hear what others think.
Scholar of social movements Lisa Corrigan noted that large, fun marches full of art and music expand connections and make people more willing to take risks against growing state power. They build larger communities by creating new images that bring together recognizable images from the past in new ways, helping more people see themselves in such an opposition. The community and good feelings those gatherings develop help carry opposition through hard moments. Corrigan notes, too, that yesterday “every single rally (including in the small towns) was bigger than the surrounding police force available. That kind of image event is VERY IMPORTANT if you’re…demonstrating social coherence AGAINST a fascist government and its makeshift gestapo.”Such rallies “bring together multigenerational groups and the playfulness can help create enthusiasm for big tent politics against the monoculture of fascism,” Corrigan writes. “The frogs (and unicorns and dinosaurs) will be defining ideographs of this period of struggle.”
On Saturday in Newport, Oregon, roughly 1,200 people assembled as part of the nationwide No Kings II protest. According to organizers, nearly 7 million people turned out for more than 2,700 demonstrations across the nation, with at least one in every state. Thirteen rallies were held in Oregon coastal communities.In Newport, protesters occupied both sides of the Pacific Coast Highway from the intersection with U.S. Route 20 to just south of Newport City Hall.
Another source claims there were "more than 2,600 protesters gathered Saturday in Newport to protest President Donald Trump. Event organizers from Indivisible Waves had several counters present to capture the record number of participants. There were more event organizers present, with some taking on sections to count with manual clicker tools. The group counted 2,632 protestors in Newport."