Best-selling author Daniel Paisner makes an indelible impression with a moving and funny novel reminiscent of Carl Hiassen and Peter Lefcourt. From its dramatic and humorous opening to its touching conclusion, Mourning Wood hooks readers with its eccentric characters and offbeat sense of humor.

She's hard up.He's just hard...After an ill-fated one-night stand, Wyatt Landry was the last person I ever expected to see again.By design, mind you, as I spent the last two years avoiding him.He was only ever meant to be a good time-a really good time-and now, thanks to one teensy little mistake, he's back in my life and wielding an entirely different set of tools.It's not like I intentionally hired a bogus contractor to redo our chapel, and Lord knows I never imagined Wyatt would ride up in his pickup truck, like a knight in thigh-hugging blue jeans, to save the day.But here he is, and to make matters worse, he's every bit as charming as I remember, and before I can fully process his reappearance in my life, he has my six-year-old daughter wrapped around his finger, my parents eating out of the palm of his hand, and my best friend shipping us like we're some celebrity couple.Thankfully, working in the death industry, I've mastered the skill of compartmentalization. Keeping my growing feelings tucked away should be a piece of cake. Except, seeing him every day definitely throws a wrench in that plan.Before I know it, we're trading favors for dates, and as much I don't want to admit it, the feelings for him I thought were dead and buried are taking root and growing into something that looks a lot like love.Daigle Family Funeral Services... don't be caught dead any place else.

A grieving widow discovers a most unexpected form of healing—hunting for mushrooms. “Moving . . . Long tells the story of finding hope after despair lightly and artfully, with self-effacement and so much gentle good nature.”—The New York Times Long Litt Woon met Eiolf a month after arriving in Norway from Malaysia as an exchange student. They fell in love, married, and settled into domestic bliss. Then Eiolf’s unexpected death at fifty-four left Woon struggling to imagine a life without the man who had been her partner and anchor for thirty-two years. Adrift in grief, she signed up for a beginner’s course on mushrooming—a course the two of them had planned to take together—and found, to her surprise, that the pursuit of mushrooms rekindled her zest for life. The Way Through the Woods tells the story of parallel journeys: an inner one, through the landscape of mourning, and an outer one, into the fascinating realm of mushrooms—resilient, adaptable, and essential to nature’s cycle of death and rebirth. From idyllic Norwegian forests and urban flower beds to the sandy beaches of Corsica and New York’s Central Park, Woon uncovers an abundance of surprises often hidden in plain sight: salmon-pink Bloody Milk Caps, which ooze red liquid when cut; delectable morels, prized for their earthy yet delicate flavor; and bioluminescent mushrooms that light up the forest at night. Along the way, she discovers the warm fellowship of other mushroom obsessives, and finds that giving her full attention to the natural world transforms her, opening a way for her to survive Eiolf’s death, to see herself anew, and to reengage with life. Praise for The Way Through the Woods “In her search for new meaning in life after the death of her husband, Long Litt Woon undertook the study of mushrooms. What she found in the woods, and expresses with such tender joy in this heartfelt memoir, was nothing less than salvation.”—Eugenia Bone, author of Mycophilia and Microbia

Bringing together neo-Victorian and medievalism scholars in dialogue with each other for the first time, this collection of essays foregrounds issues common to both fields. The Victorians reimagined the medieval era and post-Victorian medievalism repurposes received nineteenth century tropes, as do neo-Victorian texts. For example, aesthetic movements such as Arts and Crafts, which looked for inspiration in the medieval era, are echoed by steampunk in its return to Victorian dress and technology. Issues of gender identity, sexuality, imperialism and nostalgia arise in both neo-Victorianism and medievalism, and analysis of such texts is enriched and expanded by the interconnections between the two fields represented in this groundbreaking collection.

Elizabeth Meyer’s “sweet, touching, and funny” (Booklist) memoir reads as if “Carrie Bradshaw worked in a funeral home a la Six Feet Under” (Publishers Weekly, starred review). Good Mourning offers a behind-the-scenes look at a legendary funeral chapel on New York City’s Upper East Side—mixing big money, society drama, and the universal experience of grieving—told from the unique perspective of a fashionista turned funeral planner. Elizabeth Meyer stumbled upon a career in the midst of planning her own father’s funeral, which she turned into an upbeat party with Rolling Stones music, thousands of dollars worth of her mother’s favorite flowers, and a personalized eulogy. Starting as a receptionist, Meyer quickly found she had a knack for helping people cope with their grief, as well as creating fitting send-offs for some of the city’s most high-powered residents. Meyer has seen it all: two women who found out their deceased husband (yes, singular) was living a double life, a famous corpse with a missing brain, and funerals that cost more than most weddings. By turns illuminating, emotional, and darkly humorous, Good Mourning is a lesson in how the human heart grieves and grows—whether you’re wearing this season’s couture or drug-store flip-flops.

The definition of value or quality with respect to work in translation has historically been a particularly vexed issue. Today, however, the growing demand for translations in such fields as technology and business and the increased scrutiny of translators' work by scholars in many disciplines is giving rise to a need for more nuanced, more specialized, and more explicit methods of determining value. Some refer to this determination as evaluation, others use the term assessment. Either way, the question is one of measurement and judgement, which are always unavoidably subjective and frequently rest on criteria that are not overtly expressed. This means that devising more complex evaluative practices involves not only quantitative techniques but also an exploration of the attitudes, preferences, or individual values on which criteria are established. Intended as an interrogation and a critique that can serve to prompt a more thorough and open consideration of evaluative criteria, this special issue of The Translator offers examinations of diverse evaluative practices and contains both empirical and hermeneutic work. Topics addressed include the evaluation of student translations using more up-to-date and positive methods such as those employed in corpus studies; the translation of non?standard language; translation into the second language; terminology; the application of theoretical criteria to practice; a social?textual perspective; and the reviewing of literary translations in the press. In addition, reviews by a number of literary translators discuss specific translations both into and out of English.