Now You See It

"Teaches simple, fundamental, and practical techniques that anyone can use to make sense of numbers." - cover.

A digital innovator shows how we can thrive in the new technological age. When Cathy Davidson and Duke University gave free iPods to the freshman class in 2003, critics said they were wasting their money. Yet when students in practically every discipline invented academic uses for their music players, suddenly the idea could be seen in a new light-as an innovative way to turn learning on its head. This radical experiment is at the heart of Davidson's inspiring new book. Using cutting-edge research on the brain, she shows how "attention blindness" has produced one of our society's greatest challenges: while we've all acknowledged the great changes of the digital age, most of us still toil in schools and workplaces designed for the last century. Davidson introduces us to visionaries whose groundbreaking ideas-from schools with curriculums built around video games to companies that train workers using virtual environments-will open the doors to new ways of working and learning. A lively hybrid of Thomas Friedman and Norman Doidge, Now You See It is a refreshingly optimistic argument for a bold embrace of our connected, collaborative future.

With Wendy's new glasses, she begins to see cheerful corpses, old crones disguised as teeny-boppers, and portals to another world--a place where everyone knows of the glasses' powers and will do anything they can to get them.

Now You See Her nominated for three Dora Mavor Moore Awards; Outstanding New Play, Outstanding Costume Design & Outstanding Sound Design/Composition. Now You See Her named one of Toronto’s Top Ten Plays of 2018 by the Toronto Star. Six diverse women’s voices merge into one devastating (and funny) portrait of modern feminism. They are the invisible, the vanishing, and the disappeared. In an insurrectionary outburst of original music, words, and movement, the six characters in Now You See Her explore some of the diverse ways women fade from sight in our culture. They sing, dance, and thrust themselves into the elements as they travel through the seasons of their lives. Their voices are defiant. Their question is simple: why and how do we allow our power to disappear without a fight? Now You See Her follows Quote Unquote Collective’s acclaimed international hit Mouthpiece.

This study of films by and about lesbians and gay men has been revised for a second edition and features an introduction outlining developments in lesbian and gay cinema since 1990.

Revised for this second edition, Now You See It, Richard Dyer’s groundbreaking study of films by and about lesbians and gay men, now includes an outline of developments in queer cinema since 1990. Placing the book within lesbian and gay film history, Dyer examines familiar titles such as Girls in Uniform, Un Chant D’Amour and Word is Out in their lesbian/gay context, as well as bringing to light many other forgotten, but remarkable films. Each film is examined in detail in relation to both film type and tradition, and the sexual subculture in which it was made. Now featuring a brand new introduction by Juliane Pidduck, this will be an excellent aid to cinema and film studies courses.

It's pretty much a straight shot from the upstate New York towns of Richard Russo's books to Bathsheba Monk's Cokesville, PA. This is coal and steel country. The sort of place where an inch of soot on the windowsill means a regular paycheck—and two inches means a fat one. And what's the best make-out spot in town? Next to the burning slag heap. In seventeen beguiling, linked stories, spanning fourty-five years, Monk brings a corner of America alive as never before. Her world bursts with indelible characters: Mrs. Szilborski, who bakes great cake, but sprays her neighbors' dogs with mace; and Mrs. Wojic, who believes her husband was reincarnated—as one of those dogs. Then there is the younger generation: Annie Kusiak , who wants to write, and Theresa Gojuk, who dreams of stardom. Cokesville is their Yoknapatawpha; they ache to escape it and the ghosts of their ancestors and the regret of their parents. What ghosts—and what regrets! When Theresa's father Bruno falls into a vat of molten steel, the mill gives the family an ingot roughly his weight to bury. As deliciously wry as Allegra Goodman in The Family Markowitz, and with the matter-of-fact humanity of Grace Paley, Bathsheba Monk leads us into a world that is at once totally surprising and recognizable. These stories glow like molten steel.

The author of I Am Legend transforms a lonely mansion into a madhouse where a group must face grisly tricks, shocking twists, and the mind of a killer. In Now You See It, the prolific master of suspense and horror delivers a knock-out tale the likes of which have not been seen since Henry Clouzot’s devilish thriller Diabolique. Some years ago, the Great Delacorte, a famed stage magician, came down with a stroke that left him in a vegetative state, able to move only his eyes. The entire action of the novel is witnessed through these eyes as Delacorte sits in the Magic Room of his country estate, a room custom-tailored to display stage illusions. Delacorte’s son, Max, has taken his name and place as an illusionist in every effort to replace his father. Max is supported by his wife Cassandra and her amazingly identical lookalike younger brother Brian. But for the past year, Cassandra has been poisoning Max’s food with arsenic and a sleeping pill. She wants the act all for herself—but Max has his own ideas, and his revenge is the big dish that Matheson sets before us in this dazzler that offers top-flight fun! Praise for Now You See It “One of his strongest efforts…. We’re all a lot richer to have Richard Matheson among us.”―Dean Koontz “A fascinating variation on the locked-room mystery…with more hairpin turns than a mountain road. Now You See It…is absorbing.”―The Washington Post Book World “There are as many twists and turns as a medieval catacomb in one of the most fun novels of the year.”―Rocky Mountain News “Matheson’s prose is extremely smooth and the pacing frantic.”―The Philadelphia Inquirer