They say that life may have come to the Earth on a meteor kicked up from the Martian plains by some asteroid gone astray, or it might be the byproduct of star factories, churning out chiral molecules in interstellar space, to seed far flung worlds. If so, then where is my home? And who among …
Writing Native America
As preparation for a presentation at the Eastern Oregon Word Roundup at Pendleton in late October, I am writing a series of essays about “Writing Native America” dealing with indigenousness, identity, and literary authenticity, the latter from the perspective of a publisher.
As those who have followed my earlier essays may know, my personal approach is strongly informed my the idea of “Creolism” as put forward by the Martinique philosopher, Edouard Glissant, as well as my own metis identity. I am hoping these articles will become a source of information for authors, especially those who might consider submitting works to our press. This first article consists of a slightly revised version on an essay I wrote several years ago, entitled “On Becoming Indigenous.”
The essay follows:
I think we should be mindful with language, to know what we are saying before we speak. Everybody knows that words are more powerful than sticks and stones despite the schoolyard litany to the contrary. Bones mend, and if you think that words cannot kill you, then the lessons of history have been lost on […]
We have posted a short story which Patty wrote some time ago about taxi dancing. Here is the link: The Rose Room, 1973 by Patricia J. McLean