The D.A.R. and Four Sacred Herbs

Not many things can beat sitting around a table with a group of like-minded people to discuss books.

I was recently invited to the monthly meeting of Town and Country, a local women’s group of lifelong friends. From historians to teachers to retired medical professionals, we gathered at a friend’s house over hors d’oeuvres, bourbon slush, and elder blossom liquor to discuss my novel, Let Evening Come. 

Some in the group have a direct relationship to Native Americans, and I learned of the four sacred herbs: sage, cedar, sweetgrass and tobacco, a discussion that led seamlessly into that of my novel with its Indigenous components.

Other members of the group are affialiated with the Daughters of theAmerican Revolution, the historic patriotic organization of forward thinking women established in 1918. There were bookmarks proclaiming The American Creed: I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it; to support its Constitution; to obey its laws; to respect its flag; and to defend it against all enemies. Penned by William Tyler Page in 1918, a creed that seems more urgent today.

While they don’t call themselves a “book club”, on this day it was.  

America - Love it Or Give It Back

I had one of my best readings right here at our local township library. This man, with the evocative message on his shirt, made an indelible impression on me. I was honored he asked me to sign a book for his daughter. 

My novel, Let Evening Come, is about the displacement of Indigenous peoples, love and loss, broken treaties and sundered promises. His shirt says it all and made me feel I had written something of worth. I'm sad that in the confusion of signings and surrounding conversation, I didn't get his name. That he had me sign it for his daughter, felt like the best tribute of all.

Regarding book signings, I'll be doing a Fourth of July giveaway. All you have to do is sign up for my newsletter here.  I promise to keep the content interesting and the mailings infrequent. 

INDIAN HORSE A review

In awe of an expertly bound book, I ran my hand across the smooth surface of the Milkweed edition of Indian Horse, the feel of it a tactile pleasure. From front to back, I fanned the pages, intrigued by the page numbers elegantly printed in cursive on the bottom left, and the smell of print. I leafed through them—I couldn't seem to stop—the promise of a story captured between the covers of this book.

Indian Horse is the beautifully written story of the Ojibway youth, Saul Indian Horse, who is trapped at an early age in Canada's residential school system. The story is an affirmation of Saul's perseverance and resilience as he struggles to survive the horror of the school and the demeaning actions of those who felt compelled to subjugate and drive the savage out of the Indian. In testament to the endurance and spiritual wisdom of his people and the grandmother he remembers, Saul battles to reclaim the dignity he was endowed with. I loved him and cried with him.

I just realized there was a movie made and it's on Netflix. I recommend it. But read the book first, if you can. 

Gifted to me at Christmas, owning and reading this novel has made me realize how personal books are to me.  Books have been my best friends since I learned to tie my shoes. Stages of life bookended by the books I read.

Now we have eBooks, the epitome of inanimate. They aren't books—I would argue—but devices. They are screens that need battery power to light up. They need electricity to turn the pages. They smell like nothing. But they are cheaper than print (and friendlier to the environment), thus the way of the future. 

I gave up my eight tracks for cassettes and my cassettes for CDs. I confess to the convenience of Alexa sitting on a shelf, devoid of rizz even when she's plugged in, but she has her place, like an electronic reader on an airplane or in the dark of bedtime. But my bookshelves sag with that which I will never give up. Books that remain readable when the power goes off.

It's early in the year, but it will be difficult for any novel to unseat Indian Horse's number one position on my shelf.

Poets and Storytellers,  invited us to "de-retro" our vintage vocabulary with a post, including the Oxford word of the year for 2023 - Rizz,  an informal noun defined as style, charm, or attractiveness; the ability to attract a romantic or sexual partner. 

I stuck it in above. Did you notice.

yvonneosborne.com