Books Do Not Have Wings

This whimsical, rhyming tale whirls readers through all the fantastic things that can be found between the pages of a book. From a pirate adventure to a fairy fete, Books Do Not Have Wings explores all the wonderful things a book is that go way beyond its cover and pages.

Birds Without Wings traces the fortunes of one small community in southwest Turkey (Anatolia) in the early part of the last century—a quirky community in which Christian and Muslim lives and traditions have co-existed peacefully over the centuries and where friendship, even love, has transcended religious differences. But with the disintegration of the Ottoman Empire and the onset of the Great War, the sweep of history has a cataclysmic effect on this peaceful place: The great love of Philothei, a Christian girl of legendary beauty, and Ibrahim, a Muslim shepherd who courts her from near infancy, culminates in tragedy and madness; Two inseparable childhood friends who grow up playing in the hills above the town suddenly find themselves on opposite sides of the bloody struggle; and Rustem Bey, a wealthy landlord, who has an enchanting mistress who is not what she seems. Far away from these small lives, a man of destiny who will come to be known as Mustafa Kemal Atatürk is emerging to create a country from the ruins of an empire. Victory at Gallipoli fails to save the Ottomans from ultimate defeat and, as a new conflict arises, Muslims and Christians struggle to survive, let alone understand, their part in the great tragedy that will reshape the whole region forever.

"Wings! Wings! Wings! They are wonderful flying things . . ". Come join Marc Brown for a wacky, whimsical whirl through the world of winged things. Kids will learn about creatures and things that have wings. Brown's dazzling, bold art perfectly complements his easy-to-read rhyming text. Full color.

I m born from Dinka tribes where Polygamy is predominantly pride of cultural values in Southern Sudan, Eastern Africa. My mother is the last of the eleven wives of my father and I'm the last-born of the fifty siblings. I am not exactly sure of my birth date, because of no written records from my parents. However, based on the date that was given to me by the United Nation, I was born in 1984 and grew up in a traditional cattle- herding from Pakeer, Ciir in Jongeli State. In the late 1980's, I was only four years old child amongst the fifty siblings living an incredible life of illiteracy. The nomadic cattle life valves a lot more than education. So, education was not something I ever dream of. My peers and I played different games that don't exist in the western countries when we were at our sweet village where there was no electricity or clean waters. Those games such as Gugura, molding cows from clay and the Dinka games of kids playing marrying your wife and built toggles and slept in it while looking after calves was the best game we enjoyed the most as kids. We were very much happy like the rest of the kids before the Sudanese government troops began bombarded our village from the sky with helicopters, and Russian's made airstrikes-antinovels in Arabic. In 1987 when Civil war reaches its climax and Sudanese government keeps sending troops South and burned down our villages to ashes and obliterated the entire villages; I fled into the bush with my brothers and cousins when we were looking after cattle to escape the bullets and not to be captured and made slaves. The chaos and violence that happened forced me to fled into the bush when bullets were whizzing in the air and burning smoke at nearby village rise up high into the sky. This led to uprooting and drifting through horrendous lives I never imagined. My first nights ever in the bush were horrible, which led to unknown journey of which none of my great grand parents or parents ever, had been before. We then became orphaned and began to walked thousands miles on foot to Ethiopia, guided by army rebels known as Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA) not to be killed or kidnapped by Murle militiamen on the way. On our way, I witnessed the deaths of cousins, friends and colleagues. Besides, I witness the born and sculpture of human's remains on the way that I had never seen before. During the journey, I starved to death and got thirsty to the point were I drank my own urines to quenched my thirsty for the survival. Through my entire time, I had lived in refugees' camps for fourteen years before coming to America. I passed through hunger, violence, and fatigues and became malnourish child living on one cup of maize and one cup of beans of which to last for six days. The violence and suffering I went through had left very many people dead from Sudan to Ethiopian and then Sudan to Kenya, but not sure of what kept me a live. I am very happy that with God grace, I am who I am today In April 3, 2001, I came to Rochester, New York and later joined by my close friend Peter Agok. I had lived in Rochester for the past ten years. On my arrival to the United States, I had often faced with cultural shocks and shaken by F and B words, an "American's favor expressions" while adapting to American's life, both at work and school. I had been chasing American's dreams and the dreams are too far yet to be reach. During the course of stays at U.S.A, I went to high school for a year before enrolled at Community College to improved my English. After two years at Community College, I transferred to University of Rochester and graduated in May, 2oo7, with major in Biology and minor in Chemistry. I work at Xerox, Webster, New York and looking forward to go back to school and pursuit field in medicine specially Pharmacy to return back to Sudan to alleviate the suffering my people are experiencing.

Illustrations and rhyming text reveal many fantastic things that can be found in a book, if only a reader will take it from the shelf and open it.

ROSA MARIA MIRANDA 70, returns to Los Angeles to search for JUAN CARLOS LAMAS to fulfill a dream that has been brewing in her mind for the last thirty five years. She finds him in the gutter, ravaged by alcoholism. Her love for him mixed with a sense of pity, resurrects with the same passion she had felt at their first encounter, and she swears to do anything and everything left in her, to help him recover. Her only resource: the power of her love, believing that its strength will conquer every obstacle in their way to happiness. She doesn't count on the demons that have invaded him or the struggles and risk she must endure. A flash back in part one is full of emotion, passion, agony, triumph and defeat. To some readers the story's heroine may sound as a selfish, dysfunctional promiscuous, but she is a woman who refuses to be intimidated by the consequences she knows her foolishness may bring to her life. She feels she must take the challenge in order to find the happiness she imagines waits for her despite her advancing age. To the very young, love in old age seems a ridicule, or even grotesque. The result is a moving eulogy and a tribute to romantic love in our old age.