About the book

It comes from both obsession and ignorance. Nearly 20 years ago, I heard about a tragic hayride accident in which a young girl was killed by a gunman. The idea stuck with me, and I couldn't shake it. Over time, it evolved into the foundation of this book. Along the way, I found myself drawn to the depth and richness of Lakota culture, which became central to the story.

There were many things I didn't understand when I started. I knew nothing about the publishing industry. I didn't consider the expectations of a book featuring eleven-year-olds. Most importantly, I didn't fully grasp the weight of writing about Lakota culture as someone who isn't Lakota. The more I learned, the more I respected the history, traditions, and worldview, but I also realized the responsibility that came with portraying it — and I acknowledge that I have made mistakes, some of which I am still unaware.

Sitting in an airport, close to finishing the final draft. I had spent hundreds of hours revising and finally started researching how to get published. That's when I realized: I hadn't actually written a young adult novel, but a middle grade novel — and as an older white male writing about an eleven-year-old Lakota girl, I was stepping into sensitive territory.

Stubbornness — and belief. I believe I've written a compelling story with a positive message. I've lived with this story for 20 years, developing it, refining it, and loving it as the pieces came together. And the more I studied Lakota culture, the more I wanted to reflect its beauty and wisdom in a meaningful way.

Mostly silence and a few "it's not a project I can get behind." The middle-grade market is highly competitive and currently prioritizes actual BIPOC and LGBTQ authors. A white male writing about a Lakota girl raised red flags. Agents receive thousands of submissions, and it only takes one red flag before they pass.

That's always possible. This is my first novel. But I didn't take shortcuts — I revised it thoroughly like I would a short story, reading it at least two dozen times, cutting, rewriting, and using writing tools to eliminate weak spots like passive voice and adverb overuse. I've done everything I can to craft a novel that entertains, surprises, and resonates with readers.

Close to 80. And because I love this book too much to abandon it.

No. If I can't get it traditionally published, I don't want to self-publish just to sell a handful of copies before it fades into obscurity. Instead, I want this book to serve a purpose — raising awareness and funds for a community in need. If it can help generate a few thousand dollars for a cause that matters, then that gives this story meaning beyond publication.

Since my main characters are 11 years old, this qualifies as a middle-grade novel, but I wrote it to be enjoyed by all ages. It's a little like Shrek — it works at a younger level, but there are references and themes that resonate with older readers.

There is no sexuality. This story is about culture, family, and friendship — it's a clean novel. There is some violence, with the most shocking moment occurring early on when Seal's younger sister dies. However, most of the violence is implied rather than graphic.

I write about what I know, and I recognize my limits. I didn't set the story on a reservation because I wouldn't know how to write that authentically. Instead, it begins on a farm — a setting I have personal experience with — before transitioning into a fantasy world. That said, I admire Lakota culture, from its deep spiritual traditions to its reverence for nature and storytelling. That respect shaped how I approached this novel.

I believe in the principle of "punching up" when telling stories. I approached this with as much respect as possible — reading Indigenous novels, visiting Lakota museums and land, and listening to Lakota voices both in person and online. The Lakota worldview, with its emphasis on interconnectedness and tradition, resonated with me deeply, and I've done my best to honor that while telling the story I set out to write. This was a labor of love.

Absolutely. I've written about one of the Lakota's most sacred figures, the White Buffalo Calf Woman, and incorporated their ceremonies into the backbone of my story. That's a sensitive area, and I fully acknowledge that good intentions don't always lead to good outcomes.

Because I believe in the story. I think it will entertain readers. I'm open to criticism because that's how I learn, and open dialogue leads to greater awareness and understanding — which is what this novel is ultimately about. I hope I haven't crossed the line into sacrilege, but if I have, I'm prepared to face that. My hope is that readers find something engaging and meaningful rather than moralistic or heavy-handed. If that happens, then maybe it can serve as a bridge.