Sam is a quiet little boy who hates show-and-tell. Just thinking about it makes his stomach hurt. Sam must find a way to conquer his fear of show-and-tell.

Making friends can be tough, but this rhyming picture book will help navigate difficulties of shyness and social anxiety. Shelli used to be pretty content in her little world, thinking that her pet friends with feathers, fins, and fur were enough. Her bird would keep her company at home, her fish would hideaway in his cave, and her dog was the social butterfly of the neighborhood. But now, Shelli is determined to try to make friends with kids at school. Readers will relate as Shelli takes brave steps toward breaking out of her shell. Includes a Note to Parents and Caregivers by Elizabeth McCallum, PhD, with more information about shyness and social anxiety.

Henry likes kindergarten. He gets to paint pictures, sing songs, and learn his letters and numbers. But there's one thing Henry doesn't like: show and tell! His legs get all shaky and he's too shy to speak. Just in time, Henry's kind teacher, Ms. Bradley, comes to the rescue with a great plan for helping him overcome his fears.

He's not the type to stand out. In fact, unless you were looking for him, you wouldn't know he was missing at all. But you know us, the shy ones, we can always spot one another. This delicate picture book about a quiet little octopus that keeps to himself in a school of lively fish explores the topic of shyness and friendship. Stunningly illustrated by bestselling creator of Hug Me, Simona Ciraolo, this book is sure to resonate with young children across the world, particularly those who are just starting school.

Dexter T. Rexter is going to school. But will anyone like him? Tomorrow is the biggest event ever in Dexter's life: his best friend, Jack, is taking him to school for Show and Tell Day! Dexter has been getting ready for weeks. But now he's a little nervous. What if the other kids don't like him? So Dexter decides to come up with a plan. He'll wear a costume. Dinosaurs in bunny ears look good, right? He'll recite state capitals starting with...uh...ah...er. Then he realizes something. He can't dance. He can't recite things. He doesn't have ANY skills. What's a dino to do? This comical, interactive tale of belonging, friendship, anticipation, and first-day-at-school jitters lets readers experience the excitement and nervousness along with Dexter--and even offer him a little advice along the way.

A book for shy people of all ages who wonder how to shine in an incredibly noisy world. Shyness can make us feel isolated, and it's inherently difficult to talk about, yet half of all humans consider themselves shy. But shyness is not weakness, nor a shameful secret. Let's own our shyness, and work with it in the face of the loud, outgoing idea of success. It's time for a softer, more considered approach. Shy people have unique qualities and skills, so let's nurture and appreciate them. Nadia Finer gives shy people the support and understanding they need to step out of the shadows. This book is full of easy to follow advice, backed up by first-hand experiences from fellow shy people. Nadia shares insights from scientists and psychologists to help explain the reasons behind shyness, and gives us top tips to help navigate the most challenging situations. Shy and Mighty is packed with practical tools, techniques and ideas to help you work with your shyness, and become a more mighty you.

Hunter S. Thompson, “smart hillbilly,” boy of the South, born and bred in Louisville, Kentucky, son of an insurance salesman and a stay-at-home mom, public school-educated, jailed at seventeen on a bogus petty robbery charge, member of the U.S. Air Force (Airmen Second Class), copy boy for Time, writer for The National Observer, et cetera. From the outset he was the Wild Man of American journalism with a journalistic appetite that touched on subjects that drove his sense of justice and intrigue, from biker gangs and 1960s counterculture to presidential campaigns and psychedelic drugs. He lived larger than life and pulled it up around him in a mad effort to make it as electric, anger-ridden, and drug-fueled as possible. Now Juan Thompson tells the story of his father and of their getting to know each other during their forty-one fraught years together. He writes of the many dark times, of how far they ricocheted away from each other, and of how they found their way back before it was too late. He writes of growing up in an old farmhouse in a narrow mountain valley outside of Aspen—Woody Creek, Colorado, a ranching community with Hereford cattle and clover fields . . . of the presence of guns in the house, the boxes of ammo on the kitchen shelves behind the glass doors of the country cabinets, where others might have placed china and knickknacks . . . of climbing on the back of Hunter’s Bultaco Matador trail motorcycle as a young boy, and father and son roaring up the dirt road, trailing a cloud of dust . . . of being taken to bars in town as a small boy, Hunter holding court while Juan crawled around under the bar stools, picking up change and taking his found loot to Carl’s Pharmacy to buy Archie comic books . . . of going with his parents as a baby to a Ken Kesey/Hells Angels party with dozens of people wandering around the forest in various stages of undress, stoned on pot, tripping on LSD . . . He writes of his growing fear of his father; of the arguments between his parents reaching frightening levels; and of his finally fighting back, trying to protect his mother as the state troopers are called in to separate father and son. And of the inevitable—of mother and son driving west in their Datsun to make a new home, a new life, away from Hunter; of Juan’s first taste of what “normal” could feel like . . . We see Juan going to Concord Academy, a stranger in a strange land, coming from a school that was a log cabin in the middle of hay fields, Juan without manners or socialization . . . going on to college at Tufts; spending a crucial week with his father; Hunter asking for Juan’s opinion of his writing; and he writes of their dirt biking on a hilltop overlooking Woody Creek Valley, acting as if all the horrible things that had happened between them had never taken place, and of being there, together, side by side . . . And finally, movingly, he writes of their long, slow pull toward reconciliation . . . of Juan’s marriage and the birth of his own son; of watching Hunter love his grandson and Juan’s coming to understand how Hunter loved him; of Hunter’s growing illness, and Juan’s becoming both son and father to his father . . .