Whose shining eyes can you see in these 24 picture puzzles? Lift the flaps and...open your eyes!

You are missing at least eighty percent of what is happening around you right now. You are missing what is happening in your body, in the distance, and right in front of you. In marshalling your attention to these words, you are ignoring an unthinkably large amount of information that continues to bombard all of your senses. This ignorance is useful: indeed, we compliment it and call it concentration. It enables us to not just notice the shapes on the page, but to absorb them as intelligible words, phrases, ideas. Alas, we tend to bring this focus to every activity we do. In so doing, it is inevitable that we also bring along attention's companion: inattention to everything else. This book begins with that inattention. It is not a book about how to bring more focus to your reading of Tolstoy; it is not about how to multitask, attending to two or three or four tasks at once. It is not about how to avoid falling asleep at a public lecture, or at your grandfather's tales of boyhood misadventures. It is about attending to the joys of the unattended, the perceived 'ordinary'. Even when engaged in the simplest of activities - taking a walk around the block - we pay so little attention to most of what is right before us that we are sleepwalkers in our own lives. This book is about that walk around the block, and how to rediscover the extraordinary things that we are missing in our ordinary activities.

A New York Times Book Review Editors' Choice. A 2019 NPR Staff Pick. "Malcolm is always worth reading; it can be instructive to see how much satisfying craft she brings to even the most trivial article." --Phillip Lopate, TLS Janet Malcolm’s previous collection, Forty-One False Starts: Essays on Artists and Writers, was “unmistakably the work of a master” (The New York Times Book Review). Like Forty-One False Starts, Nobody’s Looking at You brings together previously uncompiled pieces, mainly from The New Yorker and The New York Review of Books. The title piece of this wonderfully eclectic collection is a profile of the fashion designer Eileen Fisher, whose mother often said to her, “Nobody’s looking at you.” But in every piece in this volume, Malcolm looks closely and with impunity at a broad range of subjects, from Donald Trump’s TV nemesis Rachel Maddow, to the stiletto-heel-wearing pianist Yuju Wang, to “the big-league game” of Supreme Court confirmation hearings. In an essay called “Socks,” the Pevears are seen as the “sort of asteroid [that] has hit the safe world of Russian Literature in English translation,” and in “Dreams and Anna Karenina,” the focus is Tolstoy, “one of literature’s greatest masters of manipulative techniques.” Nobody’s Looking at You concludes with “Pandora’s Click,” a brief, cautionary piece about e-mail etiquette that was written in the early two thousands, and that reverberates—albeit painfully—to this day.

Re-Viewing British Cinema, 1900-1992 is a collection of essays on British cinema history and practice. It offers both the casual reader and the film scholar a different view of British filmmaking during the past century. Arranged in chronological order, the book explores those areas of British cinema that have not been fully examined in other works and also offers fresh interpretations of a number of classic films. From the work of Frederic Villiers, the pioneering British newsreel cameraman who at the turn of the century brought home images of battlefield carnage, to essays on the British "B" film and the long-forgotten "Independent Frame" method of film production, to new readings of classics such as The Red Shoes, Passport to Pimlico, and Peeping Tom, the authors offer a look behind the scenes of the British film industry and engage the reader in some of the most compelling interpretational and historical issues of recent film history and critical theory. In addition, the volume contains a number of interviews with such key directors as Stephen Frears, Terence Davies, Wendy Toye, and Lindsay Anderson and also pays particular attention to the work of early twentieth-century British feminist filmmakers whose films have often been ignored by conventional film theory and history. It also offers new material on the British "film noir," the English horror film, and the pioneering gay director Brian Desmond Hurst. Taken as a whole, this book presents an entirely new series of viewpoints on British film practice, theory, and reception and affords a fresh and vibrant view of the British film medium.

"Babies and toddlers will delight in seeing colorful photos of other adorable youngsters expressing an array of emotions. Happy faces, sleepy faces, surprised faces-even a peek-a-boo face-are here to be enjoyed! Features a mirror on the last page."--Provided by publisher.

In this sweet and gentle picture book, Bear wakes one day to find his Smile gone and enlists his friends to help him find it. Bear and Smile are always together. They wake up together, swim by the waterfall together, and eat honey together. But one day, Bear wakes up and Smile is nowhere to be found. With the help of his woodland friends, will Bear be able to find his Smile again? This tender and special debut picture book explores sadness with a light touch and shows that sometimes a good friend can make all the difference.

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER “As sweet and funny and sad and true and heartfelt a memoir as one could find.” —from the foreword by Augusten Burroughs Ever since he was young, John Robison longed to connect with other people, but by the time he was a teenager, his odd habits—an inclination to blurt out non sequiturs, avoid eye contact, dismantle radios, and dig five-foot holes (and stick his younger brother, Augusten Burroughs, in them)—had earned him the label “social deviant.” It was not until he was forty that he was diagnosed with a form of autism called Asperger’s syndrome. That understanding transformed the way he saw himself—and the world. A born storyteller, Robison has written a moving, darkly funny memoir about a life that has taken him from developing exploding guitars for KISS to building a family of his own. It’s a strange, sly, indelible account—sometimes alien yet always deeply human.