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  As the Crow Flies - From their...

  John Davys Beresford

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  John Davys Beresford was born on 17th March 1873.  His life was blighted by infantile paralysis which left him partially disabled. 
  After an education at Oundle school he trained to be an architect.  However, he quickly decided that his life was to be centred on a literary career.  His first offerings were in drama and as a journalist. 
  As well as being a book reviewer for the Manchester Guardian he contributed to New Statesman, The Spectator, Westminster Gazette, and the Theosophist magazine The Aryan Path.   
  His spiritual journey in early adulthood had claimed him as an agnostic, in defiance of his clergyman father.  This view he later abandoned in preference to describing himself as a Theosophist and a pacifist. 
  As well as many novels, many themed with spiritual and philosophical elements.  Beresford was also a gifted short story writer particularly across the science-fiction, horror and ghost genres. 
  All of these elements helped him to obtain a prominent place in Edwardian Literary London. 
  John Davys Beresford died on the 2nd February 1947. He was 73.

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  Ain't No Sunshine - The Smooth...

  Mark Ribowsky

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  The first biography of Bill Withers, the most accidental music supernova, who walked away from fame and never looked back. 
   
  Bill Withers entered the music fray as hardly an afterthought, rewrote the rules for a decade, earned a fortune, then, unable to square himself with the requisites of the music business, took his leave. When he died in 2019 at eighty-one, he was every bit the mystery he was when he started. 
   
  Born and raised in Slab Fork, West Virginia—his father a coal miner, his childhood spent in a pit of racism, and a shy kid who was asthmatic and stuttered—Withers had every reason to say, “People ask what are the blues. Hell, I was the blues!” His adulthood was spent running away from Slab Fork as a navy enlistee who worked military-related jobs, including making toilets for 747s. Music was a fantasy, ruled by unscrupulous brokers whom he thought he would never be able to live easily with. When he sang of calling on a “lonely brother” in “Lean on Me,” his biggest hit and an astounding feast for the ears, few knew that he was singing about himself. He was the lonely brother, and the business whose audio rules he refashioned only made him lonelier. His songs were not riling, but easing and caressing the deepest of emotional clefts that bore the weight of the world and the reassurance of a better day on his shoulders—“Ain’t No Sunshine,” “Lean on Me,” “Use Me,” “Lovely Day,” “Just the Two of Us”—as well as album cuts that leaped off the vinyl and helped form a coterie of evergreens among his fans. Yet he ruled in his precious fold of time—eight years in the sun—without as much as an agent, manager, lawyer, accountant, valet, or flunky. He was on his own in every way. 
   
  This is the craziest success story music has known—a whirlwind that didn’t begin until Withers was in his thirties and carried on as if in neat slow-motion. Now, in this remarkable biography by acclaimed author Mark Ribowsky, Withers is brought to life in vivid detail, told with insights from those who knew him throughout his short but incredibly impactful career.

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  Blue & Green - From their pens...

  Virginia Woolf

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  Adeline Virginia Woolf was born on the 25th January 1882 in South Kensington in London. 
  Although lauded as a founder of modernist writing with such classics as ‘Orlando’, ‘Mrs Dalloway’ and ‘To the Lighthouse’ and, of course, many classic short stories, her background is filled with elements of tragedy that she somehow overcame to become such a revered writer.   Her mother died when she was 13, her half-sister Stella two years later and with it her first of several nervous breakdowns.  Appallingly it was later found that three of her half-brothers had sexually abused her so darkness must have seemed ever present.   
  She began writing professionally at age 20 but her father’s death two years later brought a complete mental collapse and she was briefly institutionalised.  Somehow she found within herself a literary career and with it great innovations in writing; she was a pioneer of “stream of consciousness”.    
  Her tight circle of friends were the founders of the Bloomsbury Group, a movement whose legacy still influences across the arts and society in many way to this day.   
  Whilst the dark periods continued to interrupt her emotional state her rate of work never ceased.  Until, on 28th March 1941, Woolf put on her overcoat, filled up its pockets with stones, and walked into the River Ouse, in Lewes, East Sussex and drowned herself.  Her body was not recovered until the 18th April.  She was 59. 
  She left behind a note which read in part “Dearest, I feel certain that I am going mad again.  I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times.  And I shan't recover this time.  I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate.  So I am doing what seems the best thing to do”.

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  Somewhere More Holy - Stories...

  Tony Woodlief

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  Acclaimed columnist Tony Woodlief pens the poignant and powerful story of his search for meaning in the midst of tragedy. When he and his wife lost their adored little girl, his trust in God turned to bitter anger. As he and his wife struggled to save their marriage and his faith, they discovered that home is more than just rooms and a roof. Home is a place where people are sometimes wounded or betrayed. Home is also where God is strong in the broken places. Woodlief takes readers through his house, room by room, showing that home is:•Where we cry out to God as we seek him in the small things•Where the sacred and the mundane meet•The place that makes us better than we could ever be on our own•More than the place where we eat and sleep…it is where we learn graceWoodlief’s heart-touching stories leavened with humor will appeal to a wide audience, especially those trying to reconcile the idea of a loving God in a broken world.

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  The In-Between - Life in the Micro

  Christian Espinosa

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  Some regrets don’t hit you all at once. They seep in at the corners of your life, at night or on a long drive, until they become a refrain. Those are the worst regrets of all.I was living in a bubble that burst on May 9, 2022. It was the middle of the afternoon. As my partner Vanessa and I approached a major intersection, a blue car accelerated, ran the red light, and T-boned a black truck directly in front of us.BOOM! The blue car’s hood crumpled like an accordion to absorb the impact. Within seconds, its front end was completely smashed, and its windows were broken. Then, everything went out of focus, except for what I needed to do—assess the scene for safety, check on the drivers of the blue car and black truck, and call 911. Nothing else mattered—I felt a heightened sense of purpose.I had always focused on one macro moment after another—the next mountain to climb or business to start. I hadn’t spent much time appreciating the micro-moments—life in between the macros. I’d been living in a macro-moment bubble.The accident awakened a desire to paint a complete picture of who I wanted to be and how I wanted to approach my life. This is my story of learning how to value the in-between and prioritize consciously living in the micro.

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  Beryl the Croucher and the Rest...

  Thomas Burke

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  Thomas Burke was born Sydney Thomas Burke on November 29th, 1886 in Eltham, London (at the time it was part of Kent). 
  An author in the early years of the 20th Century Burke brought his skills of pen and eye to parts of London, specifically the Limehouse district of the East End, to write with drive and vigour about the characters he met and the places that he knew.  Whether he turned that material into fiction or non-fiction the words seep quality.  His publications ranged from these wonderful vignettes of down-at-heel London to writings on homosexuality and the English Countryside. 
  Thomas Burke died in the Homeopathic Hospital in Queens Square, Bloomsbury on 22 September 1945.

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