MSI Press Blog

  Doah indicated from a very early age that he had quite a capacity for embarrassing his parents. Come to think of it, at 47, he still exhibits that now highly honed talent. The first incident occurred when he was about three years old. He was just beginning to talk, and he was still so small from his early issues--CHARGE Syndrome, tracheotomy, prematurity--that I was holding him like an infant while the doctor, with a nurse standing next to him, explained to me what he would be doing during the visit (normal stuff).  Suddenly, Doah reached out and grabbed the shoulder of the nurse and the shoulder of the doctor and tried to push them together, saying, "Kiss! Kiss!"  Yeah, not so normal stuff. With many more incidents to come. Book Description: Raising God's Rainbow Makers: A Family Memoir of Grace, Grit, and Growing Up Different What happens when a military family welcomes four children—each with wildly different needs—into a world not always built to support them? In Ra...

  A society obsessed with innovation often assumes that new equals better. Philosophy resists this assumption. It teaches discernment — the ability to evaluate whether a technological advance actually enhances human flourishing or merely accelerates consumption, distraction, or inequality. Progress without reflection becomes momentum without direction. Philosophy asks the questions that innovation alone cannot: Does this invention deepen our humanity or diminish it? Does it serve the common good or only the market’s appetite? Does it make us more connected or more dependent? In an age of constant upgrades, philosophy is the pause that asks whether we are upgrading the right things. It reminds us that improvement is not measured by novelty but by wisdom — by whether our tools serve the dignity and well-being of those who use them. Progress is movement. Improvement is meaning. Without philosophy, we risk confusing the two — racing forward without knowing where we’re going. image and...

  Today's publisher's pride is RV Oopsies by Larry MacDonald, which reached #166 in travel humor. (This book has been in the Amazon top 100 nearly every month since its release.) Book Description:  101 Hilarious (and Painful) Lessons from Real-Life RV Mishaps Every year, thousands of people hit the road in their RVs chasing freedom, fun, and the great outdoors—but even the best adventures come with their fair share of epic fails. From backing into trees and bending jack stands to the infamous black tank blunders, RV life is full of surprises… and not all of them are good ones. For over a decade, author [Name] has asked fellow RVers one simple question: “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done while RVing?” The answers? Outrageous, laugh-out-loud funny, and surprisingly educational. RV Oopsies gathers 101 true stories of RV mistakes, misadventures, and mechanical mayhem , each offering a valuable lesson to help you avoid making the same costly—or messy—error. Whether you'r...

  One of the quiet revolutions of midlife is the way motivation changes. Studies of inactive adults consistently show that as people age, the reasons they move—or begin to move—shift. The early drivers of activity, the ones that dominate youth and early adulthood, tend to be external: appearance, comparison, competition, the desire to “keep up.” These motivations are loud, but they’re also brittle. They depend on being seen. By midlife, something different begins to happen. The body becomes a more honest messenger. Stress accumulates in recognizable patterns. Sleep quality changes. Blood pressure nudges upward. Mobility feels slightly less automatic. People begin to notice that their lived experience—how they feel in their own skin—matters more than how they look in someone else’s gaze. This is where intrinsic motivation starts to take root. Movement becomes less about sculpting an image and more about preserving a life. The goals shift toward health, stress reduction, emotional st...

  Grief carries its own weather. There are days when the sky inside you feels starless, heavy, unmoving. And yet—even in that darkness—something flickers. A moment of unexpected beauty. A kindness offered without fanfare. A small connection that reminds you your heart is still capable of responding to the world. These glimmers are not betrayals of the one you lost. They are signs that love continues to breathe in you. Grief often convinces us that any light is disloyal, that laughter or ease or comfort means we are “moving on” in a way that erases what mattered. But light does not erase the shadow. It simply reveals its shape. It shows the contours of what you have survived, the edges of what you carry, the depth of what you loved. The shadow remains—because the love remains. But the light remains too. Over time, you begin to see that grief is not a single state but a landscape. Shadowed valleys, yes, but also clearings where sunlight pools. Moments when memory warms instead of wou...