Gardens of Grief, a sequel to Boston Teran's literary classic, The Creed of Violence, is not only a powerful and thrilling piece of literature, it is also a forceful condemnation of one of the most monstrous and controversial events of the twentieth century-the Armenian genocide. In 1915, Islamic fundamentalists in Turkey annihilated two million innocent Armenians. Were the atrocities committed by the Turkish government an unfortunate act of war, or the methodical extermination of a people that was unequalled in history up to that time? The novel has been compared to Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, where honor and bravery align with selflessness, to the impassioned advocacy for justice of Emile Zola's J'Accuse, the writer's 1898 open letter on the Dreyfus Affair, and to the work of Solzhenitsyn, for his treatment of the horrors of oppression.

"With Grief Came Gardens" aims to encompass the entirety of my nineteen years of life and experience through poetry, short stories, and prose. This is a documentation of all the feels (the good, the bad, and the ugly), throughout my duration on mother earth thus far. When reading, "With Grief Came Gardens," I ask that you do so gently. Embrace my truth with open arms and a heart of vulnerability. This is me. The parts that I keep hidden so well that you wouldn't have otherwise known of. This book is separated into four sections titled grievance, lost files, light and love.This book is my baby. Handle her with care. It is my soul on paper. I hope that within these pages you see not only me, but yourself: understand that no matter how lonely you may feel, you are never truly alone. There is a community behind you, whether you've met them or not, they're there. I'm here.

A “poignant, painful, and gorgeous” memoir that explores siblinghood, adolescence, and grief for a family shattered by loss (Alicia Garza, cocreator, Black Lives Matter). Melissa and her older brother Junior grow up running around the disparate neighborhoods of 1990s Oakland, two of six children to a white Quaker father and a black Southern mother. But as Junior approaches adolescence, a bullying incident and later a violent attack in school leave him searching for power and a sense of self in all the wrong places; he develops a hard front and falls into drug dealing. Right before Junior’s twentieth birthday, the family is torn apart when he is murdered as a result of gun violence. The Names of All the Flowers connects one tragic death to a collective grief for all black people who die too young. A lyrical recounting of a life lost, Melissa Valentine’s debut memoir is an intimate portrait of a family fractured by the school-to-prison pipeline and an enduring love letter to an adored older brother. It is a call for justice amid endless cycles of violence, grief, and trauma, declaring: “We are all witness and therefore no one is spared from this loss.” “A portrait of a place, a person who died too young, the systems that led to that death, and the keen insights of the author herself. Lyrical and smart, with appropriate undercurrents of rage.” —Emily Raboteau, author of Searching for Zion “Eloquently poignant.” —Kirkus Reviews

In a time of climate change and mass extinction, how we garden matters more than ever: “An outstanding and deeply passionate book.” —Marc Bekoff, author of The Emotional Lives of Animals Plenty of books tell home gardeners and professional landscape designers how to garden sustainably, what plants to use, and what resources to explore. Yet few examine why our urban wildlife gardens matter so much—not just for ourselves, but for the larger human and animal communities. Our landscapes push aside wildlife and in turn diminish our genetically programmed love for wildness. How can we get ourselves back into balance through gardens, to speak life's language and learn from other species? Benjamin Vogt addresses why we need a new garden ethic, and why we urgently need wildness in our daily lives—lives sequestered in buildings surrounded by monocultures of lawn and concrete that significantly harm our physical and mental health. He examines the psychological issues around climate change and mass extinction as a way to understand how we are short-circuiting our response to global crises, especially by not growing native plants in our gardens. Simply put, environmentalism is not political; it's social justice for all species marginalized today and for those facing extinction tomorrow. By thinking deeply and honestly about our built landscapes, we can create a compassionate activism that connects us more profoundly to nature and to one another.

For 27 years, George Anderson, widely considered the world's greatest living medium, has listened to those on the other side, gaining a unique awareness of what those souls want his millions of believers to know, to understand, and to accept. Now Anderson shares this wisdom-and offers an incomparable perspective on the questions faced in day-to-day life.

Death and Garden Narratives in Literature, Art and Film: Song of Death in Paradise explores the combination of two motifs, death and gardens, to show how the two subjects are intertwined and used in various media and cultural contexts. Using cultural, literary, film, and art history theories, the contributors analyze various death and garden sceneries in literary works by Arthur Machen, Agatha Christie, J.K. Rowling, as well as in superhero comics, films, and cultural and art contexts such as Ian Hamilton Finley's “Little Sparta,” the poetic verses from the Karoo Desert National Botanical Garden in South Africa, and the Australian wilderness.

New to living and gardening in Philadelphia, Sharon White begins a journey through the landscape of the city, past and present, in Vanished Gardens. In prose now as precise and considered as the paths in a parterre, now as flowing and lyrical as an Olmsted vista, White explores Philadelphia's gardens as a part of the city's ecosystem and animates the lives of individual gardeners and naturalists working in the area around her home. In one section of the book, White tours the gardens of colonial botanist John Bartram; his wife, Ann; and their son, writer and naturalist William. Other chapters focus on Deborah Logan, who kept a record of her life on a large farm in the late eighteenth century, and Mary Gibson Henry, twentieth-century botanist, plant collector, and namesake of the lily Hymenocallis henryae. Throughout White weaves passages from diaries, letters, and memoirs from significant Philadephia gardeners into her own striking prose, transforming each place she examines into a palimpsest of the underlying earth and the human landscapes layered over it. White gives a surprising portrait of the resilience and richness of the natural world in Philadelphia and of the ways that gardening can connect nature to urban space. She shows that although gardens may vanish forever, the meaning and solace inherent in the act of gardening are always waiting to be discovered anew.