It's meant to be a very easy read; not a book you read systematically from beginning to end but rather a book to read during those times you find reading a book overwhelming. How we choose to look at something is essential to our happiness, and the author, Dushka Zapata, hopes to leave readers with a little of that.

    It's a Chick Thing is a collection of forty spirited stories about the special and unique times that strengthen the bonds of women's friendships and create shared history. It takes a look at women's friendship at its wildest, adventurous best the antics, the escapades, the risk taking, the loyalty, the irrepressible humor and merriment.Read about Dolly Parton's escapades with her friends in high school, Fergie's and Diana's night on the town during Andrew's bachelor party, how Sharon Stone literally gave Mimi Craven the shirt off her back, and the time when Patsy Cline and Loretta Lynn faced down the Coal Miner's Daughter's detractors. Readers will delight in reading about Cirque du Chien, a group of partyloving chicks who dress up like French poodles and drink French champagne. Or La Bella Mafia, a girl gang dedicated to glorious divadom who right wrongs and overdress for every occasion. It's a Chick Thing also includes chick resources such as "Shoo Fly Be Gone," a list of verbal comebacks for getting rid of those pesky men who interrupt your girls' nights out and "Chick Stars," an astrological guide to finding your most compatible (and incompatible) friends. There are also handy chickcentric lists including "Chicks That Rock," "Chick Reads," "Chick Flicks," and "Chick Cliques."

    

    In 1964, he was a seventeen-year-old Ohio high school kid. And he kept a diary.It's all here. The teenage girl who got away. The twenty-seven-year-old woman who didn't. The first beer. The first job. A series of bad haircuts. Friendship and betrayal, griping and groping, a daily account of one boy's struggle -- and all of our struggles -- to forge his way into adulthood with dignity intact, virginity a bad memory, and the day-to-day knowledge that it's not going to get any easier."A delightful book, and like the song Greene cruised to that summer, fun, fun, fun." -- Los Angeles Times Book Review"Everyone who was ever seventeen will love it!" -- Ann Landers

    Following in the maverick mold of Quentin Tarentino, Spike Lee, and Richard Rodriguez, Joe Queenan becomes an auteur and, in the process, funnier than ever, as he tries to master the art of writing, directing, scoring, casting, and marketing a movie--all by himself.

    Malcolm is "among the most intellectually provocative of authors," writes David Lehman in The Boston Globe, "able to turn epiphanies of perception into explosions of insight."Here, in Forty-one False Starts, Malcolm brings together essays published over the course of several decades (largely in The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books) that reflect her preoccupation with artists and their work. Her subjects are painters, photographers, writers, and critics. She explores Bloomsbury's obsessive desire to create things visual and literary; the "passionate collaborations" behind Edward Weston's nudes; and the character of the German art photographer Thomas Struth, who is "haunted by the Nazi past," yet whose photographs have "a lightness of spirit." In "The Woman Who Hated Women," Malcolm delves beneath the "onyx surface" of Edith Wharton's fiction, while in "Advanced Placement" she relishes the black comedy of the Gossip Girl novels of Cecily von Zeigesar. In "Salinger's Cigarettes," Malcolm writes that "the pettiness, vulgarity, banality, and vanity that few of us are free of, and thus can tolerate in others, are like ragweed for Salinger's helplessly uncontaminated heroes and heroines." "Over and over," as Ian Frazier writes in his introduction, "she has demonstrated that nonfiction—a book of reporting, an article in a magazine, something we see every day—can rise to the highest level of literature."One of Publishers Weekly's Best Nonfiction Books of 2013

    Written just before the British countryside was largely devastated by factory farming and the reckless use of herbicides and pesticides. Magical. The original book had photographs by the author, but this has b&w drawings for chapter headings only. Green cloth boards.

    That’s the message from Austin Kleon, a young writer and artist who knows that creativity is everywhere, creativity is for everyone. A manifesto for the digital age, Steal Like an Artist is a guide whose positive message, graphic look and illustrations, exercises, and examples will put readers directly in touch with their artistic side.

    While thinking and writing, she weaves together disparate writers and artists—Mary Wollstonecraft, Jean Genet, Virginia Woolf, Janet Malcolm, Chantal Akerman, and Roland Barthes, among many others—in a way that is both elliptical and direct, clearheaded and personal, prismatic and self-examining, layering narratives to reveal the thorny but nourishing relationship between art and life.

     In Believing Is Seeing Academy Award-winning director Errol Morris turns his eye to the nature of truth in photography. In his inimitable style, Morris untangles the mysteries behind an eclectic range of documentary photographs, from the ambrotype of three children found clasped in the hands of an unknown soldier at Gettysburg to the indelible portraits of the WPA photography project. Each essay in the book presents the reader with a conundrum and investigates the relationship between photographs and the real world they supposedly record. During the Crimean War, Roger Fenton took two nearly identical photographs of the Valley of the Shadow of Death-one of a road covered with cannonballs, the other of the same road without cannonballs. Susan Sontag later claimed that Fenton posed the first photograph, prompting Morris to return to Crimea to investigate. Can we recover the truth behind Fenton's intentions in a photograph taken 150 years ago? In the midst of the Great Depression and one of the worst droughts on record, FDR's Farm Service Administration sent several photographers, including Arthur Rothstein, Dorothea Lange, and Walker Evans, to document rural poverty. When Rothstein was discovered to have moved the cow skull in his now-iconic photograph, fiscal conservatives-furious over taxpayer money funding an artistic project-claimed the photographs were liberal propaganda. What is the difference between journalistic evidence, fine art, and staged propaganda? During the Israeli-Lebanese war in 2006, no fewer than four different photojournalists took photographs in Beirut of toys lying in the rubble of bombings, provoking accusations of posing and anti-Israeli bias at the news organizations. Why were there so many similar photographs? And were the accusers objecting to the photos themselves or to the conclusions readers drew from them? With his keen sense of irony, skepticism, and humor, Morris reveals in these and many other investigations how photographs can obscure as much as they reveal and how what we see is often determined by our beliefs. Part detective story, part philosophical meditation, Believing Is Seeing is a highly original exploration of photography and perception from one of America's most provocative observers.

    Some only did it in college, or got out by sheer determination, good luck . . . or suicide. Others took it on as permanent employment. And many remain haunted by nightmare scenarios where they are the sole server in a restaurant packed with complaining patrons. For all those disenchanted current and former food service employees, Darron Cardosa has your back. His career began at a Texas steakhouse in 1984, and since 2008 he’s vented his frustrations in the popular blog The Bitchy Waiter. A snarky mix of David Sedaris, Anthony Bourdain, Erma Bombeck, and Mo Rocca, Cardosa distills 30 years of food service into dark, funny tales—about crazy customers, out-of-control egos, and what really goes on in that fancy restaurant—that anyone who worked in the industry will recognize and relate to.

    So he jumped into his fully alarmed Japanese S.U.V. and drove to American sports shrines for a year, everywhere from Larry Bird's boyhood home in French Lick, Indiana, to the cornfield just outside of Dyersville, Iowa, where Field of Dreams was filmed. Now in paperback, Road Swing is the story of his journey.

    This irreverent and hilarious guide to all that's loud, vulgar, fast, violent, pissed-off, and adolescent in the music of the last forty years—the first book to prefigure the emerging "alternative" culture of the 1990s—has now been updated with the hundred best metal albums of the decade.

    They told her that she had the worst case they’d ever seen of a rare Scandinavian disease called celiac. At first, this diagnosis – and its requirement of total adherence to a gluten-free diet – seemed like the simple answer to a lifetime of strange symptoms including anemia, insomnia, pneumonia, mouth ulcers, missed periods, and neck pain so severe that for months preceding the diagnosis she hadn’t been able to turn her head. But even on the diet – and as glutenphobia erupted in this country, with nearly a third of Americans avoiding gluten —Abel still didn’t feel well. When doctors, nutritionists, and websites all offered contradicting information on gluten and diet, she began to panic. How would she know what to eat? In this powerful, wide-ranging and emotional story about the limits of medical knowledge, Abel discovers why she wasn’t diagnosed with celiac as a child. She considers how environmental fears and Internet anecdotes lead people to avoid gluten. And she grapples with the question that confronts us all: how to live calmly, even joyfully, in the face of uncertainty. Heather Abel worked as a reporter and news editor in Colorado and San Francisco and taught creative writing at the New School University and UMass Amherst. She lives with her family in western Massachusetts where she is finishing her first novel.

    But, at forty-eight years old, having spent decades in San Francisco, he craved change. Grieving over the death of his partner, he quickly discovered the profound consolations of the city's incessant rhythms, the sight of the Empire State Building against the night sky, and New Yorkers themselves, kindred souls that Hayes, a lifelong insomniac, encountered on late-night strolls with his camera.And he unexpectedly fell in love again, with his friend and neighbor, the writer and neurologist Oliver Sacks, whose exuberance--"I don't so much fear death as I do wasting life," he tells Hayes early on--is captured in vignettes throughout. What emerges is a portrait of Sacks at his most personal and endearing, from falling in love for the first time at age seventy-five to facing illness and death (Sacks died of cancer in August 2015).