Gifts by Ursula K. Le GuinGifts by Ursula K. Le Guin

Gifts

byUrsula K. Le Guin

Paperback | March 16, 2006

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Have you put on weight in recent years that you can't lose? Do you crave more energy and stamina in your day? Is your skin drier than it used to be? Has your hair started to feel dry and look limp? If you said yes to one or more of these questions, then Glow15 is your answer. Based on the breakthrough Nobel Prize-winning science of autophagy-the process by which cells remove toxins, recycle parts, and repair their own damage- Glow15 is a lifestyle plan that will make you look and feel younger. In just 15 days, you'll begin to harness the power of autophagy to drop pounds, get glowing skin, and restore your energy through - DIET Discover IFPC: a combination of intermittent fasting and protein cycling to lose weight-and wrinkles. - ENERGY Drink an autophagy-activating ketogenic tea to boost your metabolism. - EXERCISE Do less to get more out of your workouts. - SLEEP Identify your sleep type and create a customized routine for your best rest yet. - BEAUTY Find the newest ingredients and cutting-edge treatments to get glowing. Naomi Whittel travels from spice markets in Bangalore, India, to farms in Okinawa, Japan, to vineyards in Bordeaux, France, with one mission: to discover the purest health-promoting ingredients that can help women transform their lives. Her travels give her unprecedented access to renowned scientists around the world, and in Glow15 she shares the research and advice she's learned from these experts, who include MDs, dermatologists, sleep doctors, nutritionists, and fitness physiologists. Get step-by-step guidelines from America's best-loved wellness explorer" for each part of this easy-to-follow program, including more than 50 delicious autophagy-boosting recipes, as well as illustrated exercises you can do at home. Plus, find out what this 44-year-old CEO and mother of four does to defy aging-from her personal autophagy hacks, to youth-boosting "Powerphenols," to how to get glowing."
Naomi Whittel is a leading nutritional expert and media personality. She is the founder of Reserveage Nutrition and CEO of Twinlab Consolidated Holdings, where she develops solutions for wellness, better health, longevity, and natural beauty. Named by Prevention magazine as the nation's leading female innovator in the natural products...
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Title:GiftsFormat:PaperbackDimensions:304 pages, 7 × 5 × 0.83 inPublished:March 16, 2006Publisher:Houghton Mifflin HarcourtLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0152051244

ISBN - 13:9780152051242

Appropriate for ages: 12

Reviews

Rated 5 out of 5 by from Another fantastic fantasy from Le Guin This reads a bit like an origin story. I loved the characters, as well as the magic system.
Date published: 2018-01-17
Rated 3 out of 5 by from Definitely the first of a series. This book felt a bit like a first section of a longer novel - if it was an adult book it would be just that, part one of a big novel. It was interesting - people who live and farm in the wilds of the Uplands have special gifts - call to animals, unmaking things, knife skills, that can be used as deadly weapons. Orrec can't control his and thus blinds himself so he doesn't hurt the ones he loves. It is an interesting premise but not all that much happens. You are just starting to get into the meat of the story when it ends. You would want all three (is there three? = Voices is the next one for sure) before you started this one. Good series to start teen on the fantasy (not paranormal) genre.
Date published: 2008-04-24
Rated 5 out of 5 by from excellent book Gifts is an awesome book.I liked how it told u about all the gifts the where in it at the beginning in stead of thoughout the book. I'd recomend this book who loves adventure and fantasic.there are alotof great stuff that interentested me and I would reread it if I had the chance.I loved all the characters names. the chacaters names were orrec, gry, canoc, ogge, alloc, parn, terocn, melle, emmon, rab. my favorite part is when orrec blindfolded hisself because he tought he had the wild gift. I can't what to read the next book ursula k. le giun write to continue gifts.
Date published: 2006-07-08

Read from the Book

He was lost when he came to us, and I fear the silver spoons he stole from us didn't save him when he ran away and went up into the high domains. Yet in the end the lost man, the runaway man was our guide. Gry called him the runaway man. When he first came, she was sure he'd done some terrible thing, a murder or a betrayal, and was escaping vengeance. What else would bring a Lowlander here, among us? "Ignorance," I said. "He knows nothing of us. He's not afraid of us." "He said people down there warned him not to come up among the witches." "But he knows nothing about the gifts," I said. "It's all just talk, to him. Legends, lies..." We were both right, no doubt. Certainly Emmon was running away, if only from a well-earned reputation for thievery, or from boredom; he was as restless, as fearless and inquisitive and inconsequential as a hound puppy, trotting wherever his nose led him. Recalling the accent and turns of speech he had, I know now that he came from far in the south, farther than Algalanda, where tales of the Uplands were just that-tales: old rumors of the distant northland, where wicked witchfolk lived in icy mountains and did impossible things. If he'd believed what they told him down in Danner, he'd never have come up to Caspromant. If he'd believed us, he never would have gone on higher in the mountains. He loved to hear stories, so he listened to ours, but he didn't believe them. He was a city man, he'd had some education, he'd travelled the length of the Lowlands. He knew the world. Who were we, me and Gry? What did we know, a blind boy and a grim girl, sixteen years old, stuck in the superstition and squalor of the desolate hill farms that we so grandly called our domains? He led us on, in his lazy kindness, to talk about the great powers we had, but while we talked he was seeing the bare, hard way we lived, the cruel poverty, the cripples and backward people of the farms, seeing our ignorance of everything outside these dark hills, and saying to himself, Oh yes, what great powers they have, poor brats! Gry and I feared that when he left us he went to Geremant. It is hard to think he may still be there, alive but a slave, with legs twisted like corkscrews, or his face made monstrous for Erroy's amusement, or his eyes truly blinded, as mine were not. For Erroy wouldn't have suffered his careless airs, his insolence, for an hour. I took some pains to keep him away from my father when his tongue was flapping, but only because Canoc's patience was short and his mood dark, not because I feared he'd ever use his gift without good cause. In any case he paid little heed to Emmon or anyone else. Since my mother's death his mind was all given to grief and rage and rancor. He huddled over his pain, his longing for vengeance. Gry, who knew all the nests and eyries for miles around, once saw a carrion eagle brooding his pair of silvery, grotesque eaglets in a nest up on the Sheer, after a shepherd killed the mother bird who hunted for them both. So my father brooded and starved. To Gry and me, Emmon was a treasure, a bright creature come into our gloom. He fed our hunger. For we were starving too. He would never tell us enough about the Lowlands. He'd give an answer of some kind to every question I asked, but often a joking answer, evasive or merely vague. There was probably a good deal about his past life that he didn't want us to know, and anyhow he wasn't a keen observer and clear reporter, as Gry was when she was my eyes. She could describe exactly how the new bull calf looked, his bluish coat and knobby legs and little furry hornbuds, so that I could all but see him. But if I asked Emmon to tell about the city of Derris Water, all he said was that it wasn't much of a city and the market was dull. Yet I knew, because my mother had told me, that Derris Water had tall red houses and deep streets, that steps of slate led up from the docks and moorages where the river traffic came and went, that there was a market of birds, and a market of fish, and a market of spices and incense and honey, a market for old clothes and a market for new ones, and the great pottery fairs to which people came from all up and down the Trond River, even from the far shores of the ocean. Maybe Emmon had had bad luck with his thieving in Derris Water. Whatever the reason, he preferred to ask us the questions and sit back at ease to listen to us-to me, mostly. I was always a talker, if there was anybody to listen. Gry had a long habit of silence and watchfulness, but Emmon could draw her out. I doubt he knew how lucky he'd been in finding us two, but he appreciated our making him welcome and keeping him comfortable through a bitter, rainy winter. He was sorry for us. He was bored, no doubt. He was inquisitive. "So what is it this fellow up at Geremant does that's so fearsome?" he'd ask, his tone just skeptical enough that I'd try as hard as I could to convince him of the truth of what I said. But these were matters that were not much talked about, even among people with the gift. It seemed unnatural to speak of them aloud. "The gift of that lineage is called the twisting," I said at last. "Twisting? Like a sort of dancing?" "No." The words were hard to find, and hard to say. "Twisting people." "Making them turn around?" "No. Their arms, legs. Necks. Bodies." I twisted my own body a bit with discomfort at the subject. Finally I said, "You saw old Gonnen, that woodsman, up over Knob Hill. We passed him yesterday on the cart road. Gry told you who he was." "All bent over like a nutcracker." "Brantor Erroy did that to him." "Doubled him up like that? What for?" "A punishment. The brantor said he came on him picking up wood in Gere Forest." After a little, Emmon said, "Rheumatism will do that to a man." "Gonnen was a young man then." "So you don't yourself recall it happening." "No," I said, vexed by his airy incredulity. "But he does. And my father does. Gonnen told him. Gonnen said he wasn't in Geremant at all, but only near the borderline, in our woods. Brantor Erroy saw him and shouted, and Gonnen was scared, and started to run away with the load of wood on his back. He fell. When he tried to stand, his back was bent over and hunched, the way it is now. If he tries to stand up, his wife said, he screams with the pain." "And how did the brantor do this to him?" Emmon had learned the word from us; he said he'd never heard it in the Lowlands. A brantor is the master or mistress of a domain, which is to say the chief and most gifted of a lineage. My father was Brantor of Caspromant. Gry's mother was Brantor of the Barres of Roddmant and her father Brantor of the Rodds of that domain. We two were their heirs, their nestling eaglets. I hesitated to answer Emmon's question. His tone had not been mocking, but I didn't know if I should say anything at all about the powers of the gift. Gry answered him. "He'd have looked at the man," she said in her quiet voice. In my blindness her voice always brought to me a sense of light air moving in the leaves of a tree. "And pointed his left hand or finger at him, and maybe said his name. And then he'd have said a word, or two, or more. And it was done." "What kind of words?" Gry was silent; maybe she shrugged. "The Gere gift's not mine," she said at last. "We don't know its ways." "Ways?" "The way a gift acts." "Well, how does your gift act, what does it do, then?" Emmon asked her, not teasing, alive with curiosity. "It's something to do with hunting?" "The Barre gift is calling," Gry said. "Calling? What do you call?" "Animals."Copyright © 2004 by Ursula K. Le GuinAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.Requests for permission to make copies of any part of the work should be mailed to the following address: Permissions Department, Harcourt, Inc., 6277 Sea Harbor Drive, Orlando, Florida 32887-6777.

Editorial Reviews

Glow15 teaches you how to turn on a cellular superpower called autophagy. It's one of the biggest secrets to staying young! Read this book if you want to feel-and look-young for the rest of your life!" -DAVE ASPREY, founder of Bulletproof Coffee and New York Times best-selling author of Head Strong and The Bulletproof Diet "The science of autophagy in skincare is astounding! Naomi Whittel teaches us that we can activate our skin cells to act younger - fighting off signs of aging on the deepest level from the inside out." -DENDY ENGLEMAN, MD, celebrity dermatologist " Glow15 is the book we have been waiting for. Through clear and practical strategies based on exciting new science, Naomi Whittel maps out how we age and how to slow-and even reverse-the aging process. If you find yourself aging year by year (which means all of us), then this book is for you." -MARK HYMAN, MD, director of the Cleveland Clinic Center for Functional Medicine and #1 New York Times best-selling author of Eat Fat, Get Thin "