Who Is The Publisher Of Stillness Books Series?

Slowing my cadence on purpose has been one of the most surprising leadership lessons I’ve picked up, and 'Stillness Is the Key' put language to habits I somehow knew were right but didn’t practice consistently. For me, stillness isn’t about being inactive — it’s about creating a space to think clearly. When I intentionally step back before responding to a crisis, I notice that the words I choose are precise, the tone is calmer, and my team follows suit. That ripple effect is huge: a single quiet breath can stop a meeting from spiraling into reactive decisions that look good in the moment but haunt you later. I’ve built small rituals around that pause. A short walk alone after a tense conversation, ten minutes of journaling to separate emotion from fact, or a deliberately silent five minutes at the start of a planning session. These tiny acts sharpen strategic thinking, because they force me to ask the right questions rather than deflect with immediate action. There’s also a deeper emotional payoff — I’m less prone to panic, better at listening, and more likely to let quieter voices on the team be heard. Over time, people start mirroring that steadiness: fewer urgent pings, better-prepared updates, and more thoughtful solutions. Reading works like 'Stillness Is the Key' alongside 'Meditations' reminded me that leadership is often shown in restraint rather than spectacle. It’s tempting to fill every minute with visible hustle, but real influence comes from choosing when to move decisively and when to hold back. I still have days where old habits win, but when I return to stillness I see clearer, lead kinder, and sleep better — and that alone feels worth the effort.

Lately I've been treating stillness like a little secret ingredient in my workday and it's surprised me how often it calms the noise. I used to think stillness meant doing nothing, and that felt counterproductive when tasks piled up. What I've found—through trial and error and stealing ideas from books like 'Stillness Is the Key'—is that stillness is a practice that sharpens focus rather than dulls it. I take two minutes between meetings to close my eyes, notice my breath, and name three things I can control. That tiny ritual breaks the hamster wheel of anxiety and makes the next hour feel manageable. On busier days I lean into micro-routines: a quick body scan, standing by the window for sunlight, or a five-minute walk without my phone. Those pockets of calm reduce decision fatigue and help me prioritize better. I've also learned to set a 'shutdown' threshold—no more checking email after a certain point—so my brain knows when work stops. It sounds simple, but the nervous system loves predictability; giving it a predictable pause lowers the constant background hum of worry. Stillness isn't a magic pill, and there are times when deadlines demand sprinting, but folding intentional quiet into my workflow has made anxiety less of a daily companion. It lets me return to tasks with clearer judgment and, honestly, I enjoy my afternoons more now.

I've got a soft spot for books that actually change how I breathe during a workday, and 'Stillness Is the Key' did that for me. The first chapter hit like a gentle elbow: slow down, think clearer, act wiser. For entrepreneurs drowning in notifications, that idea isn't fluffy — it's survival. I found myself applying short pockets of stillness before tough calls, and decisions that used to roll out in panic started arriving with a quiet center. Practically speaking, the book gave me simple rituals rather than lofty promises. I started a three-minute morning pause, a one-sentence nightly reflection, and the weirdly powerful habit of closing tabs and turning the phone face down for an hour. Those tiny moves shrank the noise and made strategy sessions feel less reactionary and more intentional. It also reminded me that creativity and calm feed each other: the quieter my head, the better my product ideas and pitch narratives. If you're wired for constant motion, the book won't make you vulnerable — it'll sharpen you. It doesn't preach quitting ambition; it suggests aiming with steadier hands. I still juggle the chaos of launching and deadlines, but now there's a habitual calm I can lean on when the storm hits, and that makes all the difference in how I show up.

When I tell people where to start, I usually nudge them straight to the Dragonet Prophecy arc and say: read them in the order they were published. It’s simple and satisfying because the story intentionally unfolds piece by piece, and the character reveals hit exactly when they’re supposed to. So, follow this sequence: 'The Dragonet Prophecy' (book 1), then 'The Lost Heir' (book 2), 'The Hidden Kingdom' (book 3), 'The Dark Secret' (book 4), and finish the arc with 'The Brightest Night' (book 5). Each book focuses on a different dragonet from the prophecy group, so reading them in order gives you that beautiful rotation of viewpoints and gradual worldbuilding. After book 5 you can jump straight into the next arcs if you want more—books 6–10 continue the saga from new perspectives—plus there are short story collections like 'Winglets' and the novellas in 'Legends' if you crave side lore. Honestly, experiencing that first arc in order felt like finishing a ten-episode anime season for me—tight, emotional, and totally bingeable.

There’s a particular chill I get thinking about forest gods, and a few books really lean into that deer-headed menace. My top pick is definitely 'The Ritual' by Adam Nevill — the antagonist there isn’t a polite villain so much as an ancient, antlered deity that the hikers stumble into. The creature is woven out of folk horror, ritual, and a very oppressive forest atmosphere; it functions as the central force of dread and drives the whole plot. If you want a modern novel where a stag-like presence is the core threat, that book nails it with sustained, slow-burn terror. If you like shorter work, Angela Carter’s story 'The Erl-King' (collected in 'The Bloody Chamber') gives you a more literary, symbolic take: the Erl-King is a seductive, dangerous lord of the wood who can feel like a deer-man archetype depending on your reading. He’s less gore and more uncanny seduction and predation — the antagonist of the story who embodies that old wild power. For something with a contemporary fairy-tale spin, it’s brilliant. I’d also throw in Neil Gaiman’s 'Monarch of the Glen' (found in 'Fragile Things') as a wild-card: it features a monstrous, stag-like force tied to the landscape that functions antagonistically. Beyond novels, the Leshen/leshy from Slavic folklore (and its appearances in games like 'The Witcher') shows up across media, influencing tons of modern deer-man depictions. All in all, I’m always drawn to how authors use antlers and the woods to tap into very old, uncomfortable fears — it’s my favorite kind of nightmare to read about.

Counting them up while reorganizing my kids' shelf, I was pleasantly surprised by how tidy the collection feels: there are 12 books in the core 'Ivy and Bean' chapter-book series by Annie Barrows, all sweetly illustrated by Sophie Blackall. These are the short, snappy early-reader chapter books that most people mean when they say 'Ivy and Bean' — perfect for ages roughly 6–9. They follow the misadventures and unlikely friendship between the thoughtful Ivy and the wildly impulsive Bean, and each book's plot is self-contained, which makes them easy to dip into one after another. If you start collecting beyond the main twelve, you’ll find a few picture-book spin-offs, activity-style tie-ins, and occasional boxed-set editions. Count those extras in and the total jumps into the mid-teens depending on what your bookstore or library carries — sometimes publishers repackage two stories together or release small companion books. For straightforward reading and gifting, though, the twelve chapter books are the core, and they hold up wonderfully as a complete little series. I still smile picking up the original 'Ivy and Bean' — they’re the kind of books that make kids laugh out loud in the store and parents nod approvingly, so having that neat number of twelve feels just right to me.

To effectively read the Space Vampire books, it is essential to follow the chronological order of the series, as each installment builds upon the narrative and character development introduced in the previous entries. For instance, starting with Colin Wilson's 1976 novel 'The Space Vampires' lays the groundwork for understanding the cosmic origins and existential themes surrounding vampires. Following this, the 1985 film adaptation 'Lifeforce' offers a visual representation of the story, albeit with notable differences in plot details and character dynamics. After these foundational works, readers can explore contemporary novels such as 'Irina: The Vampire Cosmonaut,' which further expands the vampire mythos in a unique sci-fi context, blending themes of space exploration and supernatural elements. By adhering to this order, readers will gain a comprehensive understanding of how the concept of vampires has evolved across different narratives and mediums, enriching their overall experience of the genre.

Delving into the world of cat lover books is a fascinating journey! These stories often weave together themes of companionship and affection, highlighting the bond between humans and their feline friends. For instance, books like 'The Cat Who...' series explore the idea of how cats not only provide comfort but can also act as catalysts for solving mysteries. It’s intriguing how these tales illustrate that cats possess unique personalities, almost communicating secrets that humans might miss. Another striking theme is the concept of healing. Numerous cat-centric narratives, like 'A Street Cat Named Bob,' delve into how these creatures can positively impact mental health. Their purring can soothe anxiety, while their playful antics bring joy and laughter during tough times. It’s not just about the cats; it’s also about the transformation of their human companions, illustrating that the love of a pet can truly change lives. In many ways, these stories serve to remind us about patience, empathy, and the importance of connections—even when those connections come with fur and whiskers! Cats, with their mysterious ways, encourage us to reflect on our own emotions and interactions with the world around us. What a beautiful tribute they get through these narratives!