tories have been central to communication among Indian people for thousands of years. And the stories
you are about to read are truly incredible. They will
make your blood boil with fear, anger, passion, and, ultimately,
remorse.

These stories are so real that you believe without questioning, so loving that you accept without strings attached,
and yet so challenging that your soul is tugged by hundreds
of lost spirits. Each tale leaves the reader feeling vulnerable
to inner voices calling for you to do something, yet wondering
what it is that you are supposed to do.

How can you tell if dreams are real? What do you do
when there is such deep sadness because there is no hope?
Why is there no real word for goodbye? Does Ashland, Montana really exist? Does being Indian mean that life will be
filled with death, pain, shootings, drugs, alcohol, and abuse?
I can't answer these questions for you. You have to read and
experience this book yourself to understand.

For centuries, Indian people faced extinction, brutality,
and racism. Ours was a harsh existence, where success meant
survival. In our world, boarding schools were killing children,
war heroes were dying without hope or dignity, and gifted and
talented writers were lost in their own intellectualism with no
place to tell their stories.

That horrible existence finally began to change in the 1960s. Since then we have seen a resurgence of Native pride.
People are returning to their Indian culture for a sense of who
they are. This renaissance is captured powerfully in the work
of these authors. Each story evokes deep emotions for the
reader. Yet introspection is always a challenge. In these stories,
by both Native and non-Native writers, cultures are being exposed; lies, and truths as well, are being told; and all you can
do is shake your head and try to determine what is real.

The beauty of Natives writing their own stories means
that the experience comes without boundaries, literally and
figuratively. These stories from all across North America do
not carry the burden of Western political, philosophical, and
literary expectations. The results are spectacular and will
cause you to raise your eyebrows repeatedly.

We are pleased and honored to share these stories as examples of the passion, violence, and beauty that our people
have to share, underscoring the centuries of acquired knowledge that we carry. I can hear the Indian haters saying, What
are those damn Indians thinking? The beauty is, of course, that
Indian people are thinking, using their natural intellect. Gone
is the time when the sole focus was on survival. Now the focus
is on thriving.

As you read this volume, remember: it's fiction ... or is it?

Richard B. Williams is the president and CEO of the American
Indian College Fund.

SPIRITUAL TRANSGRESSION

elcome to Indian Country ... It lies within the
physical and emotional antipodes of NorthSouth-East-West, and encompasses territory
both familiar and unknown. Many who inhabit Indian Country love it, and they often stay after their time on Earth is
done. Others have died trying to claim it. They continue to
wander there in the endless circle of time. This book has stories
by both Native and non-Native authors reflecting them all.

The circle defined by the cardinal directions of the Medicine Wheel is your reminder that a harmonious relationship
with nature and all living beings is how creation was ordained,
with all of us equal and connected. Thus, all directions lead to
each other, just as all these stories, in turn, point toward one
another through a shared ethos.

As you step back into the troubled history of Joseph
Bruchac's "Helper" and Liz Martinez's "Prowling Wolves,"
you will find yourself swept up by a fresh and powerful look
into personal revisionist histories. It is, perhaps, not unpredi-
cable that some of these tales show the narrator partaking in
what appears to be an eminently satisfying dose of revenge:
Jean Rae Baxter's "Osprey Lake," Mistina Bates's "Daddy's
Girl," and David Cole's "JaneJohnDoe.com" among them.
And while eliminating the person perceived as evil may have
its own brand of dark glee, Melissa Yi's "Indian Time" gives
us a truly haunting tale of twisted intention and vengeance. Two of the stories are breathtakingly lyrical in their approach
and articulation of the hard price paid by some Indians for
spiritual homelessness and transgression: Kimberly Roppolo's
"Quilt like a Night Sky" and A.A. HedgeCoke's "On Drowning Pond." Leonard Schonberg's "Lame Elk" takes us to the
bitter cold of January in Montana for another tale of a crushed
life.

For a glimpse at how a contemporary character with Indian blood functions in an urban environment, enjoy the fastpaced lives created by O'Neil De Noux in "The Raven and the
Wolf" and R. Narvaez in "Juracan." Gerard Houarner keeps
us in a contemporary setting in Manhattan's underground, yet
masterfully weaves the mythological and historical through
several different planes of reality. And speaking of myths, are
there any stronger, especially in our media-driven society, than
that of the "American Indian"? See how non-Native authors
Lawrence Block in "Getting Lucky" and Reed Farrel Coleman
in "Another Role" use the Hollywood-engendered mythos to
bring us to yet other unexpected places.

Before you journey with these talented authors through
the north, south, east, and west of Indian Country, you might
wish to reflect upon the words of the famous Oglala Lakota
teacher Black Elk: "Birds make their nests in circles; we dance
in circles; the circle stands for the Sun and Moon and all round
things in the natural world. The circle is an endless creation,
with endless connections to the present, all that went before
and all that will come in the future."

Sarah Cortez

Houston, Texas

March 2010