Our friends at United Poultry Concerns sent out a heartbreaking newsletter yesterday detailing some of the treatment of animals used for food we all try to forget about.

The fact is, there are aspects of our culture that breed violence. For example, the military's culture of war creates the environment for Abu Ghraib and spikes in domestic violence.

This violence often manifests in slaughterhouse and feedlot workers, who have had to become desensitized to suffering and death in order to function in their jobs.

We have created the situation about which UPC reports, and can end it by not eating animals.

A review of Savage Humans and Stray Dogs: A Study in Aggression, by Hiranmay Karlekar

The mass killing of stray dogs in Bangalore in early 2007 shocked and horrified the veteran Indian journalist Hiranmay Karlekar. What happened to the dogs, he writes, “will remain part of the stream of savagery that flows through history.” The massacre inspired him to write a book that “would explore the entire cultural and psychological territory of human aggression in the light of our attitude toward stray dogs.”

Having grown up in a family that loved dogs, most of them strays that his mother took in and found homes for, Karlekar has always had “family members with four legs and a tail.” He dedicates the book to the memory of two of them, Zorba and Lara, who were “my constant companions while this book was being written.”

The tragic death of two children in Bangalore reportedly mauled to death by stray dogs was what unleashed “Operation Dog Hunt,” a government pogrom against the local dog population. The author’s sobering account of the campaign in a chapter called “The Killing Fields of Karnataka” earns the book the first half of its title — “Savage Humans.”

NY's rainy start to summer has delayed this year's fruit and vegetable growth. I'm not complaining—that's why we're still enjoying the abundance of juneberries from the neighbor's yard in July.

Juneberries are one of those fruits, like mulberries, that are underappreciated. Birds and squirrels love them, but people complain that they "make a mess" when the berries drop. The easiest way to solve that problem is by eating the fruit. This isn't quite wild fruit, but it may as well be, since they've have fallen out of fashion, and out of use. (We don't discriminate, and have our eyes on the figs and pears, too.)

Shared interests are just one reason it's a pleasure to work at Lantern: after recently learning about juneberry trees, I came into the office to find a bowl of berries being eaten, and juneberry smoothies for all. Tasty local food. Keeping resources from going to waste. Purple mouths. It's all good.

What are the opportunities and challenges of being an activist?

First of all, there is the question of balancing activism with the rest of your life. Activists often feel that they have to give everything to their cause, at the expense of everything else. This can lead to burnout, imbalance, and a sense of futility. Hillary Rettig's book The Lifelong Activist is a wonderful companion for anyone who is, is contemplating becoming, or knows, an activist. It teaches you very practical steps and measures to take to make sure that activism is a joy not a burden and that every achievement leads you on to another.

So, how do you do what you need to do to change things. Josephine Bellaccomo's Move the Message is the perfect book to help you plan and execute your activism in as efficient, empowering, and effective a way as possible. From the very outset of planning and targeting your campaign, to using volunteers well and shaping your message, from talking to power brokers to taking it to the street, Move the Message not only helps you run a successful campaign, but provides invaluable insights into how you can be effective in all aspects of your professional life.

Finally, how do you sustain yourself psychologically in the face of violence and trauma. In Aftershock, long-time activist pattrice jones illustrates the importance of recognizing post-traumatic stress disorder and preventing yourself from being overwhelmed and isolated. She talks about the importance of honoring your body, supporting your friends, and trusting in your feelings, and also provides very hard-headed and practical advice on getting through the toughest of tough situations.

In 1991, when I'd just arrived in New York, Mia and I went to Harlem to hear Alice Walker read her poetry. I don't remember much about the night, except it was a very small room and very crowded, and that she started the evening by announcing she was reading a poem she'd just written addressed to Michael Jackson. "I am in mourning/for your face," it began. And I recall that the audience tittered, and the author said, with some pique, that she was being serious. His face, she continued, had been so altered that he was no longer himself. The poem concluded: "I am in mourning/for your beloved face/so thoroughly and undeservedly released.//Oh, my pretty little brother. Genius. Child./Sing to us, dance.//Rest in peace."

In thinking about Michael Jackson, how electrified I still am by the music from the golden years between "Off the Wall" and "Thriller," and about those extraordinary performances, such as this one, which showed just how much talent and ability he had in delivering a song, I find myself returning to Alice Walker's words and wondering if, in some ways, he did indeed die a long time before he passed away yesterday. That night it was hard for me (as it apparently was hard for the audience) to see the seriousness in the loss of Michael Jackson's face—his African-ness, his blackness, the openness that you can see in him as a child or even the directness of the gaze from the cover of "Thriller." Even though the room was filled with many black men and women, who surely heard in Alice Walker's lament for the blackness that her "brother" seemed to be renouncing, an echo of their own travails of what seemed to be necessary then for a black person to succeed in a white world, perhaps even then his metamorphosis was a kind of presaging of the sick joke he was to become.

According to ConEdison Solutions—which just sent me a certificate to make its point—Lantern Books managed to purchase 760 kilowatt-hours of green energy in 2008. The certificate states that "In satisfaction of your 2008 purchase of wind power, this certificate verifies that clean, emission-free electricity in the amount shown above was produced and delivered to the electric grid." The sources? "The Fenner, Madison, Maple Ridge, Noble Bliss, Noble Clinton, Noble Ellenburg, Steel Winds, and Wethersfield Wind Farms, as well as other wind farms in the region."

How much is 760 kWh? About enough to run an energy-efficient fridge for one year. It's not much, but I guess it's a start.

The Bhagavad Gita (the "Song of the Lord") is considered the most important work of ancient Sanskrit literature.

It is also, with the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, one of the greatest works on yoga. Part of the enormous epic poem the Mahabharata, the Gita tells the story of Arjuna, a warrior prince, who on the eve of battle experiences doubt and fear at the fighting to come. His charioteer, however, is none other than Lord Krishna, who strengthens his heart to face his destiny. The Bhagavad Gita as a Living Experience offers the unique combination of an expert Indologist, Wilfried Huchzermeyer, who examines the literary and mythic meaning of the text, and a yoga instructor, Jutta Zimmermann, who reveals the Gita’s deep wisdom about yoga in all its four major forms (karma [action], jnana [knowledge], bhakti [devotion], dyana [meditation]) and
shows how its wisdom can provide universal guidance for all humanity.

Yoga in recent years has been both demystified and increasingly guru-driven. Yet, the Truth that Yoga espouses is not something that is absent and far away, requiring great effort to find. Truth is present within you as the Life that is you. In Yoga of Heart, Mark Whitwell explores the tantric dimension of hatha yoga and how we can forge a union of polarities within our body: above and below, front and back, left and right, male and female. Yoga of Heart focuses especially on clearing the energy centers and meridians allowing practitioners to create a deeper intimacy with their partners and the vitalizing life forces in the universe.

The excellent organization, Glimmer Train, which offers competitions to writers each month, also provides subscribers with a booklet called "Writers Ask," in which fiction writers talk about their craft, work habits, challenges, and other matters to do with putting words into an interesting order and getting them printed by a publisher. I often find what these individuals say interesting, and I thought that over the next few months I'd share some thoughts with which I agree and that any would-be author should probably take note of.

Here's Ha Jin talking about his method, which I think makes very effective use of the different media for writing to hone text:

Usually, I write longhand and then rewrite it when I'm putting it on the computer. I like the state of the screen because the text is fluid and it gives me the feeling that nothing is fixed, that I can do anything. But I have to keep a record; otherwise, I may lose some good passages. It takes a long time for me to make the text relatively fixed on the screen, and then I print it out and work on the hard copy, using different pencils over many drafts. I don't know how many drafts I go through in hard copy. I take it to the point where I don't think I can do anything about it. But nowadays, I have deadlines to meet. This is not good because the work is not fixed and finished yet. A manuscript somehow has its own demand of time and of how much energy it needs put into it. I try to always give myself enough time to edit so I can meet its demands.

The excellent organization, Glimmer Train, which offers competitions to writers each month, also provides subscribers with a booklet called "Writers Ask," in which fiction writers talk about their craft, work habits, challenges, and other matters to do with putting words into an interesting order and getting them printed by a publisher. I often find what these individuals say interesting, and I thought that over the next few months I'd share some thoughts with which I agree and that any would-be author should probably take note of.

Here's Ann Patchett offering a great tip for writers to help them revise:

I always read my books aloud when I'm finished, and it's always torture. But there are things you catch when you hear it that you just can't see when reading. While working on The Magician's Assistant, I got my dog, Rose. When I finished I read the novel aloud to my grandmother. Every third metaphor in the book was a dog metaphor: "He stretched out on the floor like a dog"; "Her hair was like a bunch of springer spaniels." Every time I heard the word "dog," it hit me like a gong.

The excellent organization, Glimmer Train, which offers competitions to writers each month, also provides subscribers with a booklet called "Writers Ask," in which fiction writers talk about their craft, work habits, challenges, and other matters to do with putting words into an interesting order and getting them printed by a publisher. I often find what these individuals say interesting, and I thought that over the next few months I'd share some thoughts with which I agree and that any would-be author should probably take note of.

Here's Antonya Nelson on the students who come to her writing workshops.

A resistance to revision is the most frustrating thing about students. I'm sure it was the most frustrating thing about me as a student writer. I really had to learn to write the revisions. . . . The commitment to the first draft, that's the most tiresome thing about teaching students. When they say, "I want it to be confusing. I want it to be ungrammatical. I want it to be a big freaking mess." Well, I don't. You get an F.

Here's Charles Johnson talking about advice that was given to him by the late John Gardner about editing one's manuscript.

He [Gardner] said the real danger for a well-known writer is that you don't get edited; nobody touches your stuff. He said that when you submit your manuscript, it has to be perfect. You can't expect an editor to work through every line. You have to do it all yourself before you send it in. But you still need a good copy editor and a good editor to ask questions like, "Don't we need a scene for that? Isn't this an idea you want to reinforce later in the book?" You need another eye, but you don't always get it. John taught me that I had to do much of that work myself.

This is the first post in an occasional series on how not to submit a manuscript.

I got sent a manuscript the other day from a would-be author. I'd agreed to read it, and happily stored the PDF file on my computer. A few hours later, I got another email, with another attachment. The first version, the author noted, had typos in it and wasn't quite ready for me. Could I read this version instead? he asked. I deleted the first file and replaced it with the second. A day or so later, however, I got yet another email from the same author saying that he'd had another look at the version he'd sent the day before, and had made a few changes, and could I read this, third, version?

Well, luckily I hadn't read any of the versions. But it's pretty obvious that, far from needing to tweak the manuscript, the author in fact simply hasn't finished the manuscript, and instead of sending daily updates of his manuscript, he needs to go away and complete it to his total and lasting satisfaction, instead of seriously annoying would-be editors by sending draft after draft.

Rule Number One: Finish Your Manuscript.

Those of us who remember being glued to our television sets during 1989 as one autocracy after another fell in Eastern Europe are experiencing a bit of deja vu. Iran is in apparent turmoil, as the aftermath of the disputed presidential election sends people into the streets, where they have been assaulted (and worse) by the police and paramilitary forces. And still they resist.

In 1989 it was television that gave people the ability to see the possibilities of freedom. Today, it is blogging, Twitter, and numerous other social networking connections, which are bypassing the mainstream media controls of Iran, and (sad to say) too many outlets in the United States.

One blog doing incredible work is Andrew Sullivan's over at The Atlantic. Every day, seemingly every few minutes, he places YouTube videos, Twitter feeds, readers' responses both in Iran and elsewhere, and numerous reports of various kinds that provide up-to-the-minute reporting of what's going on. It's gritty, on the street, thoughtful, and intensely engaged in a way that offers a stunning example of the new face of electronic journalism. With the notable exception of the New York Times, this blog and others are blowing the U.S. media out of the water—frankly revealing how unable to break out of the routine of segments and advertising breaks they are. I have been glued to Sullivan for days.

Oh, and by the way: the image to the right is a way of expressing solidarity with the protesters. They should have all our best wishes.

Vegetarians have long wondered why non-vegetarians do not connect the meat on their plate with the living animal who has been killed to provide it. Today I witnessed this disconnect happening right in front of me twice. I first saw it at a familiar summer gathering place for hip urbanites: the farmer's market. This particular week the market was highlighting animal rescue organizations, and booth after booth was devoted to information about this or that breed of dog or cat. In many cases, the banners on these booths showed large appealing photographs of the particular animal concerned. People who staffed these booths had brought their own dogs, so it was an animal friendly atmosphere. There was also a large booth for onsite dog and cat adoption, with companion animals there for folks to take home and love.

Yet side by side with these rescue booths were other booths offering "natural poultry" and grass-fed beef. I saw a booth for a natural beef company in Colorado that is run by a spiritual community, Sunrise Ranch! On their website they speak of their "low-stress stock handling techniques, mostly calling the cows so they follow," yet name the slaughterhouse where they send these well-treated animals to be killed and dismembered. The organization describes itself as "a community of people who are personally dedicated to transformation and service." How is it that people sincerely pursuing spiritual transformation can still be eating meat? How is it that hearts open to dogs and cats can be so closed to cattle and chickens as not to even think of them as deserving rescue and compassion? How is it that a cow is considered to be so different from a dog? Because we do not see actual cows in our urban neighborhoods? Because we cannot keep a cow inside our homes? Because a cow does not wag her tail when she sees us?

After leaving the market, I went to a potluck, where I found myself sitting across from a woman whom I engaged in conversation. She spoke enthusiastically about her volunteer work with the local zoo, where she presents public programs to audiences that include many children. I was glad to see someone fostering connections between humans and non-human animals, yet all the while she was telling me this, she was eating fried chicken! How can someone love zoo animals and spend many hours communicating that to the public, yet not notice she is eating the flesh of another animal which is equally worthy of respect and care?

I'd love to be able to understand and instantly heal this profound disconnect, but at least we can chip away at it in words and actions whenever we have the chance. We can do this through public outreach, such as tabling at festivals, as well as in personal conversations and online discourse. Those of us who understand that all animals deserve compassion, and whose diets demonstrate that understanding, are each a part of the solution. We are on-the-street practical peacemakers. We have an obligation to carry this awareness out into the world, while at the same time maintaining compassion for those who love some animals but eat others.

Humane Education is more than just teaching children to be kind to their pets. It's teaching them to do what they can to make the world a less violent place.

This is the message of Claude and Medea: The Hellburn Dogs by humane educator and president of the Institute for Humane Education, Zoe Weil. Claude and Medea are two children who attend the same school, but come from very different backgrounds. They share, however, a couple of things in common. They are both inspired by a substitute teacher, the very odd Mrs. Rattlebee, who comes to their school after their regular teacher is injured; and they are both moved to act upon that inspiration when they stumble across a dog-napping ring in Manhattan, where they both live.

This charming story for nine- to twelve-year-olds offers a case study in making connections between caring for animals and caring for people, and will introduce the issues of humane education to young people in an accessible and enjoyable way.

For more about the International Day of the African Child, click here.

When people ask me, "Is Lantern a non-profit?" I always joke, "only to our accountant." It's true: we're not a non-profit organization, but publishing is one of those non-business businesses that are more cultural endeavor than money-making venture.

All this is by way of saying that, while we'd really like to get by on just publishing books and creating websites, we could make use of a donation or two to help us keep doing what we're doing. It's not tax deductible, but it would be much appreciated.

Or you could buy a book for your local library or send one to a prisoner you know, or give one to your local high school. There are all sorts of ways to support us, and we hope you will. To all of those who have already bought one or more of our books: thank you! We hope you've been enlightened, entertained, infuriated, and otherwise engaged with.

Support Lantern's vision.