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The Jingu Magical Garden
In The Jingu Magical Garden, Lillian Jingu, the youngest daughter in a big Japanese American family living inside the Japanese Tea Garden in San Antonio in the late 1930s discovers a strange egg by the koi pond, hatches a tiny blue dragon she names Kokoro, and hides him with the help of her brother Kimi, a very dignified turtle, and a tough gray cat. At first, it feels like pure magic and mischief in a hidden garden. Then a crack in time opens, and Lillian and Kokoro are pulled into moments that show how war, rumor, and racism creep into their world and shake the life they love in the tea garden. The story braids fantasy with the real history of the Jingu family and the garden, all the way through World War II and beyond.
I had a soft spot for Lillian right away. She just wants to grow her hair long, wear a white Stetson, blend in at school, and also secretly raise a baby dragon who drinks Coca-Cola and eats sardines out of a tin. That mix of ordinary kid worries and wild magical stuff really worked for me. The family scenes in the Bamboo Room kitchen made me feel like I was sitting at the table, listening to sisters tease each other while their parents try to keep everyone fed and in line. Kokoro is goofy and sweet and a bit chaotic, so every time he bursts out of hiding I could feel my shoulders tense and my brain go “oh no, not now,” in the best way. Some chapters feel cozy and funny, and then the tone shifts, and I felt my stomach drop when hints of war and suspicion started creeping into their everyday life.
The book talks about anti Asian prejudice without turning into a lecture, and that made it more powerful to me. You see how quickly neighbors and officials can turn on a family that has done nothing wrong, and it hurt to watch, because we know this stuff did happen in real life and still echoes today. At the same time, the dragon and the time travel bits keep the story from feeling hopeless, almost like the past itself is reaching out to protect this family and their garden. I liked that the author doesn’t pretend everything gets neatly fixed, but she still gives the Jingus courage, humor, and dignity, and that mix left me sad and hopeful at the same time.
As for the writing, it has a very old radio show vibe in spots, with Buck Rogers and songs on the wireless and little period details tucked everywhere, and I thought that was charming. The garden descriptions are lush and detailed, so I could picture the waterfall, the stone paths, and the hidden corners where a dragon might hide, and those scenes slowed my breathing in a good way. The dialogue can be a bit old-fashioned in places, which fits the time period. Still, the emotional beats land. When the family faces public shaming, name changes, and the loss of their place, the simple language hits like a punch because you already care about these people and this garden so much.
I really enjoyed this children’s book. I would hand it to middle-grade readers who like dragons but can handle some heavier real-world stuff, kids around nine to thirteen who are curious about World War II on the home front, and any young reader who has ever felt caught between cultures or out of place. It would also be great for teachers or parents who want to talk about racism, resilience, and community in a way that feels authentic. If you want a story with cozy family meals, secret magical pets, and real history woven together, this one is a good pick.
Pages: 282 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0GCQV9TB9
The Legacy of the Twins Platoon
The Legacy of the Twins Platoon follows a group of young Minnesotans who enlist together in the Marine Corps at a Minnesota Twins game in 1967 and then get swept into some of the hardest fighting of the Vietnam War, from Khe Sanh and Hue City to Dai Do and the DMZ. The book is split into life before Vietnam, brutal combat tours in-country, and the long shadow of the war afterward, including PTSD, broken marriages, suicides, and quiet acts of resilience that play out over decades. Author Christy Sauro Jr writes as one of them and tracks down the stories of his fellow Marines and their families, so the story stretches from their teenage years to their later lives as aging veterans who still carry the weight of what happened. It ends up as both a unit history and a long, painful look at what the war did to a particular slice of America.
I found the book to be surprisingly intimate and straightforward. Sauro’s style is plainspoken and very visual, and he leans on short scenes and dialogue rather than high drama. The boot camp sections and early combat chapters move fast and feel almost like you are standing on the yellow footprints, getting barked at, then shoved into the red mud around Khe Sanh and Dai Do. The moment when Wallace “Skip” Schmidt describes the rifle being shot out of his hands and then whispers that everyone he knows is dead hit me in the gut, because Sauro lets the scene sit there with minimal commentary. Sometimes the level of detail can feel overwhelming, with name after name and battle after battle, and I caught myself having to flip back to remember who was who. That said, the repetition also mirrors what he is trying to show: a grinding series of patrols, firefights, and losses that blur together for the men who lived it. It is not a sleek literary war memoir, and I ended up liking that roughness, because it feels honest to the world he is describing.
What stayed with me even more than the combat was the moral and emotional through-line. Sauro is obsessed with what the country asked of these teenagers and what it gave them back in return. The homecoming scenes are almost harder to read than the firefights. Larry Jones getting smashed in the face with a beer bottle in a bar, then realizing that everyone is staring at him like he is the problem, not the guy who hit him, made me angry in a very immediate way. The chapters on PTSD and suicide are bleak and careful at the same time. Sauro walks through how men like Schmidt fell apart in the years after the war and how the term “post-traumatic stress disorder” arrived too late to help some of them or their families. The big idea here is not just that war is hell, which we all know in the abstract, but that the real cost keeps showing up in family kitchens and quiet Midwestern streets long after the shooting stops. I could feel his frustration with how slowly institutions moved and how much of the heavy lifting fell on spouses, siblings, and parents who were trying to understand what had happened to their sons.
I would recommend The Legacy of the Twins Platoon to readers of military history who want something rooted in lived experience rather than strategy charts, to younger people who have only heard the Vietnam War reduced to slogans, and to policymakers and professionals who work with veterans today. The book does exactly what a legacy should do. It keeps these Marines and their families from being reduced to a line in a textbook, and it holds up both their courage and their pain in a way that is hard to shake.
Pages: 410 | ‎ISBN :  978-1663271556
Delaware at Christmas: The First State in a Merry State
Delaware at Christmas is a richly illustrated tour of how one small state has celebrated the holiday across four centuries. Author Dave Tabler moves from early Scandinavian and Dutch settlers to later British, German, Irish, Italian, Polish, Black, and Hispanic communities and shows how each group brought its own Christmas customs into Delaware life. The book then shifts to 19th-century practices like eggnog, sleigh bells, mumming, and plum pudding, before moving into the Victorian period with holly-wreath factories, Christmas seals, and toy trains. Finally, it lands in the late 20th and 21st centuries with house tours, IBM punch-card wreaths, handbell choirs, Kwanzaa, and even Christmas in July, then closes with a reflective postscript on technology and sustainability. The structure feels like a guided walk through time, with short thematic chapters, archival photographs, and clear, accessible explanations that keep the focus on place, people, and memory.
I found the writing warm, steady, and very readable. The tone stays careful and professional, yet it feels like a neighbor telling stories over coffee, not a distant professor. I appreciated the way Tabler anchors each chapter in a concrete detail, such as the Sankta Lucia procession at Old Swedes Church, the Feast of the Seven Fishes in Wilmington’s Little Italy, or the oplatek bread on Polish Christmas Eve, and then pulls back to show how that custom grew from older roots. The references to specific churches, festivals, and streets gave me a sense of real neighborhoods, real people, real weather in December. The short chapter format keeps the pace brisk, and I rarely felt bogged down, although now and then I wished for a touch more narrative glue between topics, especially when the book jumps from one ethnic group to another in quick succession. Overall, though, the style carries a lot of research without feeling heavy, and that balance impressed me.
Emotionally, the book hit me in a quiet but lasting way. It is worth noting that Tabler does not treat Christmas as a simple feel-good backdrop; he lets harder stories in, such as Antebellum Black Christmas and the rise of independent Black churches, and he gives those sections space and dignity instead of pushing them to the margins. At the same time, there is a playful curiosity in chapters on holly wreath factories, punch-card decorations, and Christmas savings clubs, and I caught myself grinning at the sheer oddity of some of those details.
The closing pages, with their focus on Delawareans adapting to online services, digital cards, and greener holiday habits, felt surprisingly tender; they invite the reader to think about their own family rituals and how those might change, or already have changed, over time. I finished the book with a mix of nostalgia, respect, and a little itch to go hunt down a local church festival and hear handbells in person.
I would recommend Delaware at Christmas to readers who love regional history, to Delaware locals and expats who want to see their home through a festive lens, and to anyone who collects books on Christmas customs and folk traditions. It will likely appeal to genealogists, church groups, and teachers who need strong, specific examples of how culture, faith, and migration shape a holiday over time. If you enjoy dipping into short, well-researched vignettes that together build a larger picture, this will be a very satisfying read.
Pages: 130 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0F4NJ2KTZ
You May Conquer: Facing What Others Have Met
You May Conquer tells story after story about people who faced hardship that could have crushed them, yet they rose anyway. The book moves from biblical figures to modern leaders and shows how adversity becomes a teacher rather than a punishment. It blends faith, history, and personal reflection in a way that feels steady and grounded. The whole message circles one big idea. We gain real authority only when we walk through fire and come out changed.
As I read, I felt myself pulled into the rhythm of the writing. It is direct. It is serious. It carries a calm confidence. Sometimes I wanted more softness. Other times, the sharp edges felt right because the stories themselves carry weight. I liked how the authors didn’t try to polish hardship into something pretty. They just showed it for what it is and let the lessons rise from the ashes. The mix of scripture and history worked for me. It gave the book a wide lens and made the message feel universal.
I also found myself reacting to the ideas more than the prose. The writing is clear and steady, but the ideas hit like steady waves. The book pushes you to look inward, sometimes more deeply than you expected. It doesn’t yell its point. It just keeps nudging you to ask better questions about pain, about response, about what shapes character. I appreciated that. It made me feel both challenged and comforted. And honestly, it reminded me that authority is something we grow into. It is not a badge. It is a scar that healed well.
I’d recommend it to readers who want strength more than inspiration, readers who enjoy reflection, readers who welcome faith-based themes, and readers who appreciate stories that stretch across centuries to show a single truth. If you’re carrying something heavy and want a book that doesn’t pretend life is easy but still believes you can rise, this one is for you.
Pages: 207 | ASIN : B0FXJ9941M
The Truth About Us: How America Invented Black Stereotypes
The Truth About Us lays out a clear, forceful account of how America built and sustained racist stereotypes over centuries. The book traces these lies from their earliest invention, through law, science, religion, media, economics, and public policy, and shows how they still shape modern life. It moves chapter by chapter, dismantling myths about Black laziness, violence, intellectual inferiority, family structure, and more while grounding each point in historical evidence and data. At its heart, the book argues that the stereotypes themselves, not Black people, are the real inventions, the real systems, and the real national problem.
The writing is sharp and steady, and it pulls you in quickly. The author does not hide behind jargon or distance. Instead, he speaks plainly about how propaganda became policy and how those policies still mark the country today. I appreciated the way he blended history with modern examples. He shows old lies living inside new systems, and the connections hit hard. The weight of what he described, especially the deliberate crafting of myths in science and religion, stirred something heavy in me. Yet I kept turning pages because the argument is so well built and the evidence so clear.
I also found myself moved by the emotional current that runs under the facts. The book insists that the story of Black people is far bigger than oppression, and that truth adds warmth and hope to the harder chapters. When the author talks about Black excellence as a pattern, not an exception, I felt inspired. He writes with a kind of grounded pride, and I could feel that pride rising through the pages. Even in the sections about media stereotypes or mass incarceration, I sensed a push toward something better. The writing made me feel frustrated at what has been done, but also energized by what could be repaired if people were willing to face the truth.
I think this book is powerful because it does not stop at exposing lies. It points to what must replace them. Towards the end, it reads almost like a call to rebuild the country with honesty, imagination, and real courage. I would recommend The Truth About Us to readers who want a clear understanding of how racial myths were constructed and how deeply they shaped America. It is especially good for people who think they already know this history, because it pushes past the usual surface summaries and asks you to look at the machinery underneath.
Pages: 228 | ASIN : B0G2SLZF4S
Humble, Conservative Origins
In the Shadows of the Blue Ridge is a portrait of rural life colliding with political and economic change in Loudoun County, Virginia, and how what was once a sprawling community of dairy farms was urbanized by the construction of Dulles Airport. What inspired you to write this story?
As a native of Loudoun, I’ve witnessed its development over the past 30 years firsthand. In shocking contrast to its current frenzied level of activity, when I was a child, not much happened west of Leesburg, and there weren’t yet any wineries. Indeed, I remember slower, kinder days in Loudoun – long, summer days and nights when all that could be heard were tumbling brooks, crickets, and tree frogs. That memory stands out in stark opposition to today’s traffic, retail shops, and human activity here. I suppose before too much more “progress” occurs, I wanted to remind my readers of Loudoun’s humble, conservative origins in its not-so-distant past, and also discuss the policy and political changes Loudoun County (actually the entire country and planet) is grappling with, which required a deep dive into the classical philosophies on which the U.S. was founded.
As someone who lives just outside Loudoun County, I found your book fascinating. While fictional, it brings the rich history of this area to life and shows awareness of how much it has changed in a relatively short period. What were some ideas that were important for you to share in this book?
The country has experienced rapid cultural change over the past 30 years, specifically since the introduction of Critical Theory into public colleges and universities in the mid-90s. I wanted to chronicle these changes in order to understand how we have arrived at this point of contentious divide between parties. Also, I wanted to emphasize the crucial role of parents in the education and rearing of their own children, who are tomorrow’s citizens.
What is one thing that people point out after reading your book that surprises you?
I suppose I’m surprised about the emotional connection my readers experience with my main character, “Red,” including anger, pity, and pride (the latter over his clandestine political achievements). This feeling unites me with my readers. I find it interesting that our connection is emotional, rather than academic or intellectual.
What experience in your life has had the most significant impact on your writing?
I was raised by old-world aristocratic Germans before the computer chip, when all we had was a piano, a full set of Encyclopedia Britannica, horses, chickens, and a garden. This afforded me time to dream and contemplate life’s mysteries in nature, when, as a child, I myself wandered over Loudoun’s creeks and fields. Due to my childhood, I have experienced the differences of perception and identity under European feudalism vs. American capitalism.
Author Links: GoodReads | Facebook | Amazon
The narrative includes detailed accounts of Loudoun County’s political landscape, featuring figures such as Scott York, Phyllis Randall, Dave LaRock, and Eugene Delgaudio. It highlights political conflicts, cultural shifts, and controversies over social issues, reflecting the tension between conservative and progressive values within the community. The story of Red’s involvement in local politics, legal battles, and personal vendettas illustrates the complex interplay of power, identity, and morality in Loudoun.
Originally a farming community with a focus on livestock, agriculture, and dairy farms, Loudoun County experienced rapid urbanization starting in the 1960s, especially due to the construction of Dulles Airport. This shift led to a decline in dairy farms and an increase in real estate development, significantly altering the county’s landscape and economy. The county became a technology hub, known as “Data Center Alley,” hosting major tech companies and data centers that handle approximately 70% of global internet traffic.
The book delves deeply into the philosophical underpinnings of Western law and morality, tracing ideas from Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero to the founding principles of the United States. It emphasizes the role of Natural Law, the Cardinal Virtues (prudence, justice, fortitude, temperance), and the theological virtues (faith, hope, charity) in shaping legal and ethical frameworks. The Founding Fathers of the U.S. are portrayed as influenced by these classical and Christian ideas, embedding them in documents such as the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution.
The history of education in America, particularly in Loudoun County, is outlined, noting early religious instruction and the evolution toward compulsory public education. The document discusses contemporary debates over educational policies, including diversity, equity, inclusion (DEI), and critical theory, highlighting controversies in Loudoun County Public Schools. It also introduces Patrick Henry College, founded to prepare Christian leaders grounded in biblical values and American founding principles.
A detailed profile of George Soros is provided, including his background, philosophy, and economic theories such as reflexivity. Soros’s influence on global politics and progressive movements is discussed, with attention to his support for causes that challenge traditional biblical morality, including LGBTQ rights and abortion. The document contrasts Soros’s views with classical moral philosophy and critiques the progressive rejection of traditional virtues.
The book presents biblical narratives and teachings that emphasize natural law, the Noahide Laws, and the importance of filial piety, empathy, and moral virtue. It recounts stories from Genesis, such as Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, linking them to contemporary moral debates. The role of forgiveness, reconciliation, and spiritual salvation through Christian faith is underscored as essential to personal and societal well-being.
Throughout, the book acknowledges the struggles with addiction, family dysfunction, and societal change experienced by individuals like Red. It explores themes of identity, abandonment, and redemption, and situating these personal stories within the broader historical and cultural transformations of Loudoun County.
Delaware at Christmas: The First State in a Merry State
Dave Tabler’s Delaware at Christmas is a richly woven tapestry of stories, customs, and curiosities that together create a vibrant portrait of how one small state has celebrated the holiday season through centuries. Moving from the earliest Swedish settlers at Fort Christina to modern multicultural traditions, the book touches on nearly every facet of Christmas life in Delaware. It dives into the origins of local customs, such as the Sankta Lucia Festival, the Feast of the Seven Fishes, and Antebellum Black Christmas celebrations, while also exploring quirkier tales like IBM punch card wreaths and the holly industry in Milton. Along the way, it’s part history lesson, part cultural scrapbook, part gentle ode to the persistence of tradition in the face of change.
I was surprised at how much heart this book carried alongside its historical detail. Tabler doesn’t just list events or describe customs; he breathes life into them. The chapters on lesser-known practices like Finnish straw ornaments, the Irish divide between Protestant and Catholic Christmases, felt like secret treasures I’d stumbled across. His research is evident, yet it never drowns out the warmth of his storytelling. I also enjoyed the contrast between the solemn and the whimsical. One page, you’re deep in the sacred rituals of Orthodox congregations, the next, you’re smiling at the image of a turn-of-the-century Delawarean crafting elaborate outdoor “lawn trees.”
The book’s density might challenge readers expecting a breezy holiday read. The scope means that some chapters feel like they’re just getting started when they move on, and occasionally, the factual richness leaves little room for narrative pause. But in a way, that’s part of its charm. It reads like a holiday buffet where you can sample from dozens of flavors, each with its own texture. I felt my mind wandering in the best possible way, thinking about how each tradition carried its own thread into the present.
Delaware at Christmas is a gift for anyone who loves the intersection of history, culture, and seasonal joy. It will especially appeal to Delawareans, history buffs, and those who enjoy Christmas lore. The images and illustrations on nearly every page bring the stories to life, adding texture and warmth that make the history feel immediate and tangible. This isn’t a book you rush through; it’s one you savor over several evenings.
Pages: 131 | ASIN : B0F4NJ2KTZ
Extraordinary Life and Legacy
South Carolina’s Matilda Evans is a sweeping tribute to the life and legacy of Dr. Matilda Arabella Evans, the first African American woman licensed to practice medicine in South Carolina. What inspired you to tell Dr. Evan’s story?
I found inspiration to share Dr. Evans’ story upon realizing our ancestral connection through my maternal lineage. It turns out that Dr. Evans’ grandfather, Harry Corley, was the half-brother of my ancestor, Lavinia Corley Thompson. Additionally, I learned that Dr. Evans’ mother, Harriet Corley Evans, played a pivotal role as one of the founders of my maternal family church, Smyrna Missionary Baptist Church, located near Springfield, South Carolina. These familial ties, combined with Dr. Evans’ remarkable achievement as South Carolina’s first African American woman licensed to practice medicine, ignited my curiosity to delve deeper into her life. Most notably, the absence of an official record of Dr. Evans’ story motivated me to conduct further research and study her extraordinary journey.
Did you find anything in your research of this book that surprised you?
Dr. Evans impressed me with her well-rounded and innovative approach to medicine. She utilized animal bones in surgical procedures, developed a mineral spring water product called Villanova for patients with kidney issues, and established a free clinic to serve underserved communities during the Great Depression in 1930. Her clinic garnered support from prominent African American figures, including Dr. George Washington Carver and Cab Calloway, who contributed to fundraising efforts. Additionally, Dr. Evans demonstrated her compassion by caring for a child abandoned on her doorstep.
How did you decide what aspects of her life to include or leave out when telling her story, and what are the key takeaways you want readers to remember about Dr. Evans?
We aimed to showcase events and experiences that reflect the diverse life of Dr. Matilda Evans, encompassing her medical career, civic engagement, and entrepreneurial ventures. Our research drew from both primary and secondary sources, including Dr. Evans’ own insights found in her book, Martha Schofield, Pioneer Negro Educator. This biography highlights the significant contributions of her mentor, Martha Schofield, an influential African American educator who profoundly impacted the post-Civil War South. Through the extraordinary life and legacy of Dr. Matilda Evans, we hope to inspire readers to explore and appreciate the vital contributions of African Americans in South Carolina and across the nation.
What is the next book that you are writing, and when will that be published?
We are considering plans for a future sequel to the book and exploring additional projects focused on preserving and promoting the legacy of Dr. Evans.
Author Links: GoodReads | X (Twitter) | Facebook | Website | Arcadia Publishing | Amazon
Matilda Arabella Evans was born four years after the abolition of slavery and raised on a family farm in eastern Aiken County. She was the first African American woman in South Carolina to obtain a medical license and fervently championed better healthcare for African Americans, with a particular focus on children. Her early life experiences, academic accomplishments, strong religious beliefs and innovative medical approaches made her a crucial figure in enhancing healthcare accessibility for families in South Carolina, especially during the difficult era of racial segregation, when she also served as a civic advocate to uplift her local community. Authors Dr. Walter B. Curry, Beverly Aiken Muhammad and Anusha Ghosh reveal the inspirational story of Dr. Evans and her remarkable journey throughout her career.
