Accessible and wry, at times comic, and often mournful, Daniel Anderson's poetry is relentlessly attentive to the splendors of the natural world. But the poems collected here—previously published in such leading literary journals as Poetry, The Kenyon Review, The Southern Review, The Yale Review, New England Review, and Southwest Review—are not relegated simply to the realm of pastoral meditation. They give voice to the sorrowful and sometimes unfortunate things we say and think. They chronicle, with both precision and care, the many ways in which jubilation and lament frequently reverse themselves. Above all else, each poem crystallizes in its wake a freshly minted moment, one that articulates an experience that reaches beyond the poet's own time and place. Sunflowers drenched in early evening sun; icy blue, explosive waves along the rocky shores of Maine; September cotton "like strange anachronistic snow" in Tennessee—Anderson forges these images into deep ruminations on love, shame, delight, loss, and estrangement.

An "entertaining and enlightening" deep dive into the alcohol-soaked origins of civilization—and the evolutionary roots of humanity's appetite for intoxication (Daniel E. Lieberman, author of Exercised). While plenty of entertaining books have been written about the history of alcohol and other intoxicants, none have offered a comprehensive, convincing answer to the basic question of why humans want to get high in the first place. Drunk elegantly cuts through the tangle of urban legends and anecdotal impressions that surround our notions of intoxication to provide the first rigorous, scientifically-grounded explanation for our love of alcohol. Drawing on evidence from archaeology, history, cognitive neuroscience, psychopharmacology, social psychology, literature, and genetics, Drunk shows that our taste for chemical intoxicants is not an evolutionary mistake, as we are so often told. In fact, intoxication helps solve a number of distinctively human challenges: enhancing creativity, alleviating stress, building trust, and pulling off the miracle of getting fiercely tribal primates to cooperate with strangers. Our desire to get drunk, along with the individual and social benefits provided by drunkenness, played a crucial role in sparking the rise of the first large-scale societies. We would not have civilization without intoxication. From marauding Vikings and bacchanalian orgies to sex-starved fruit flies, blind cave fish, and problem-solving crows, Drunk is packed with fascinating case studies and engaging science, as well as practical takeaways for individuals and communities. The result is a captivating and long overdue investigation into humanity's oldest indulgence—one that explains not only why we want to get drunk, but also how it might actually be good for us to tie one on now and then.

The perfect way to spend an afternoon! When the occasion calls for a drink, but not getting drunk, mix up a batch of day drinks - creative, low-alcohol cocktails that are festive, delicious, and easy on the booze. Using beer, wine, cider, sake, sherry, and vermouth, plus a variety of amari and other liqueurs, here are 50 light drinks for hot days, warm drinks for cool days, and an abundance of classic - and reimagined - spritzers, sangrias, micheladas, and so much more.

"A compelling read, sad and wistful and breathtakingly forthright."—Chicago Magazine Chicago Sun-Times columnist Neil Steinberg loved his job, his wife, and his two young sons. But he also loved to drink. Drunkard is an unflinchingly honest account of one man's descent into alcoholism and his ambivalent struggle to embrace sobriety. Sentenced to an outpatient rehab program, Steinberg discovers that twenty-eight days of therapy cannot reverse the toll taken by decades of hard drinking. As Steinberg claws his way through recovery, grieves the loss of the drink, and tries to shore up his faltering marriage, he is confronted by the greatest test he has ever faced, and finds himself in the process. Steinberg's gripping memoir is a frank and often painfully funny account of the stark-yet-common realities of a disease that affects millions.

Poetry. The second edition of Daniel Bailey's intoxicated battle cry of a sonnet sequence. From forgiveness in a beehive to tiny banquets for retired janitors, Bailey's poems have been wept and clutched and dropped all over, but they will still be there in the morning when your heart catches a shake.

Spice trader Cinnamon’s quiet life is turned upside down when she ends up on a quest with a fiery demon, in this irreverently quirky rom-com fantasy that is sweet, steamy, and funny as hell. All she wanted to do was live her life in peace—maybe get a cat, expand the family spice farm. Really, anything that didn’t involve going on an adventure where an orc might rip her face off. But they say the goddess has favorites, and if so, Cin is clearly not one of them. After Cin saves the demon Fallon in a wine-drunk stupor, Fallon reveals that all he really wants to do is kill an evil witch enslaving his people. And who can blame him? But now he’s dragging Cinnamon along for the ride whether she likes it or not. On the bright side, at least he keeps burning off his shirt.…

Deciding your life is worth living after losing almost everything can be the greatest challenge in a person's life. This is the story of someone making that decision. How does life go off the rails for people who devote their lives to the work of God and helping other people meet the challenges of their lives? It is easier than most people imagine. How do people rebuild their lives? Answering this question is difficult. Many people do, however, and that means there is hope for every person who struggles with addiction. Recovery may be the wrong word. We probably should say "beginning again." Making life new brings hurdles most people never have to jump. It is still possible to run in the race even if you begin by crawling. The story told in The Sun Still Shines is about how rebuilding and growing again in faith is possible.