I can’t take it too seriously, but that didn’t keep me from being ridiculously entertained by The Boho Manifesto by self-described “gypset” (gypsy + jet-setter) Julia Chaplin. She dates the new bohemian era to the 2008 economic crash and peers at it from every angle—from meditation and yoga to polyamory and chakra sightseeing. Sprinkled throughout are amusing illustrations of subtypes: tantric yogi, activist farmer, fermentation goddess (“sells her natural fragrance made from soil, wild thyme flower, and wood on her e–commerce site”). Chaplin likely had a delightful time putting this book together, and if you see even a moon-dust particle of yourself in these pages, you’ll dig it, too. Palo santo not included. 

If you’ve visited a plant store lately, you’ve no doubt seen the words “bright, indirect light” on many of the specimens for sale. Problem is, not everyone’s home boasts Instagrammable light conditions, and there are low-light rooms or nooks in even the most well-lit abode. Grow in the Dark, as its clever name suggests, is here for those spaces, focusing on the (many!) plants that thrive in low and medium light. (Of note: In general, variegated plants need more light than monochromatic green.) The plants are photographed in dramatic, shadowy, low-light conditions against colorful backdrops, which makes this book visually distinctive in a bumper crop of houseplant guides. Lisa Eldred Steinkopf also covers the use of electric lights and tips for buying plants. The bottom line? It matters where you shop.

Do you love old things, natural things? Driftwood, bird nests, pebbles, branches, swatches of fabric, chipped crockery? Then, like me, you’ll love The Foraged Home, a gorgeous collection of things cast off, aged, repurposed, brimming with story and mystery. There are all manner of twigs, branches and dried flowers positioned artfully in neutral–washed settings; there are also short narrative vignettes about the interesting people who created these unique settings and possess “the foraging outlook,” as author Oliver Maclennan describes it. (His wife, Joanna Maclennan, shot the photographs.) “People forget that time itself is an artist,” says one subject. “We take our time, enjoying the imperfections and often changing things.”

I don’t plan to move house anytime soon, but someday, when the time comes, I’ll be very glad to have Ali Wenzke’s The Art of Happy Moving. What a thorough little book this is, covering everything from making the tough decisions about why and where to move, to hiring a realtor and staging your home, to moving-day survival tips. And Wenzke doesn’t just get you out the door sans stress. She has a lot of helpful ideas about how to make friends and integrate into new communities—for both you and your kids. The book is peppered with personality quizzes, charts and fill-in-the-blanks to help you discern what matters most, and Wenzke adds just enough personal narrative to make you feel both entertained and in capable hands.

I’ve always loved pretty paper and stationery, and I enjoyed dabbling in hand lettering in my youth. But calligraphy made me think, it’s lovely, but I’ll never possess the patience to build that skill. So I’m pleased to find these words from calligrapher Maybelle Imasa-Stukuls in the opening of her gorgeous new book: “I found that once I let go of the idea that my letterforms had to be ‘perfect,’ I felt a weight was lifted and everything started to flow.” With that encouraging tone, The Gift of Calligraphy: A Modern Approach to Hand Lettering with 25 Projects to Give and to Keep welcomes you to slow down, relax and dip a metal nib in ink and use it to make your mark. Imasa-Stukuls first covers basics like tools, guide sheets, warm-up strokes and forming and connecting letters. She then outlines projects like a message in a bottle, gift wrap, labels, tags and place cards, and in a nice touch, the visual how-tos are hand-drawn.

This article was originally published in the November 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

Over here at Lifestyles central, I see my fair share of whimsical books, and many of them I unabashedly love. This month’s whimsy award goes to Blanket Fort: Growing Up Is Optional by a husband-and-wife creative team who are mysteriously (and whimsically) only known to readers as Grackle + Pigeon. Everyone knows kids love to build blanket forts, but why should they have all the fun? “Let’s face it—adulting is hard,” the book’s intro reads. “Can’t we just not deal for a while and take refuge in a pile of pillows and blankets and maybe, just maybe, redefine what adulting actually means?” In Blanket Fort, it means getting your craft on with aluminum tent poles, clamps and all the fabrics you can find. Use them to drape and clip your way to a reading nook, office space, movie-viewing nest, campsite chill-out zone and other enchanting, tentlike spaces. Textile lovers will bask in the ideas presented here, many of which seem like a cool way to level up your next party’s decor.

This article was originally published in the November 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.