By Jon Graham, Aquisitions Editor

In between delivering a keynote address at the International Herbal Symposium in Massachusetts and giving a workshop at Rosemary Gladstar’s Sage Mountain, herbalist and author Stephen Buhner paid a visit to Inner Traditions, Bear and Company with his partner Julie Macintyre earlier this summer. Being a former neighbor (he lived in nearby Braintree before relocating to wilder terrain in New Mexico) at one time we were able to see other on occasion, so it was a great pleasure to have an opportunity to spend time with him again. Stephen has published three of his books with us and the final manuscript for a fourth book is imminent. I am eagerly anticipating reading the finished manuscript as what I’ve seen thus far includes some of Stephen’s most passionate and brilliant (as in incandescent) writing to date. Appropriately, as the subject of this book is writing, more specifically, how to write non-fiction books in a way that is as creative and powerfully inspiring as the greatest works of literature. As Stephen says: “this book has been primarily written for people who are called to the craft, for those who have felt the luminous power of language, who have fallen in love with it, and who are compelled by some deep part of themselves to take on this lineage as their own.”

I always thought I had great posture and never understood why my back would ache after washing dishes or doing other simple tasks. After working on this book, I learned the very subtle ways our movements and standing habits affect us and was able to alleviate most of my back issues by myself. Filled with helpful tips and simple exercises for chronic and occasional back-pain sufferers alike, I highly recommend this book!

This book is a winner. With incredibly diverse and vivid photographs, Jim Wasserman helps us to see our nation’s capitol in a new light. His artist’s eye captures views that both zero in on the familiar in an unfamiliar way (see the bas-relief pictured on pages 112 [top] and 113) as well as single out the richness of the details nested in rooms so abundant in symbolism that the eye cannot possibly absorb it all in its totality (see the Library of Congress Reading Room pictured on pages 9 and 22-23, and the Great Hall on pages 95-99).