Ruby Standing Deer's Blog, page 3
March 28, 2013
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March 14, 2013
Too Many material things stressing you out?
Too many material things can cause more grief that they are worth. I have over one-thousand books to start. Why? I had ideas I would become an herbalist, a Veterinarian, horticulturist, flower shop owner, and so much more. I kept all the books on top of my obsession for old books. Now I have shelves and shelves collecting dust. Dust that could be declared life forms.
I have more beads than brains. I had to have every color of every style of bead made. I started collecting them twenty years ago. Yes, I do bead work, but not as much as I did in my thirties. Still, I have enough beads, thread,needles, bone beads and everything that goes with them to fill our two spare bedrooms.
I used to be quite thin and had many hippies clothes. I still have them. Nice skirts and tops I could never fit into again unless I went on a starvation diet. Swirling skirts, embroidered tops… and more beads.
My walls are covered is beaded belts, hatbands, even beaded pictures. I have a crazy plant which has taken over two walls weaving through the Nature pictures and beaded items and now makes it way though my book shelves… and my beads.
I have magazines worth probably nothing to anyone, yet I pull out the True West, Old West, Frontier West, Wild West, Native Magazines, and still read them. I have many, many notebooks of over seven-hundred magazines my grandmother gave me that I have to look at. Am I a hoarder? or a collector? Is there a difference?
At my age, too much is just too much. I will soon be giving away most of what I have so I can walk into a room and not feel stressed and over whelmed at the stacks of books beside my filled to the max book shelves… and escaped beads. What is our worth? What we collect? Or the joy on other people’s faces when we donate things they wish they had. Pass it on. You will feel your heart lighten as you do so. AND you just might see what you never realized that you never needed.
February 25, 2013
I will be doing a giveaway at the evolved publishing facebook
https://www.facebook.com/groups/38595...
We have a week of cool stuff planed! Each Evolved Publishing author will be giving away signed books and gifts. This is a great place to meet the people who have some awesome books.
Tuesday I will be offering a pair of beaded Wolf earrings, my books, and some special items myself.
February 8, 2013
Grammar, Style, and, My Editor
My story takes place nearly five-hundred years ago and the language was very different no matter what dialect you spoke. I did my best to use words that would describe how the dialect might have gone—if it was in English, which it is not. Many, many words simply do not translate and I state this in my books.
No one knew what a ‘horse’ was let alone stallion, mare, foal, mane, bridle, and much more. I used ‘neck hair’ something they might have said to refer to a mane. I tried to show how some words could be understood to mean something else. I also used passive writing, a reflection of today’s still use in much of the Native world, such as my own grandparents used.
My story includes many sentences that sound incorrect to today’s ear. In the early to mid 1800′s, several hundred years later than my own story, many dialects mingled, and in many cases, some of it sounded Shakespearean. I have book from the 1800′s and some are hard to understand. My writing may confuse some, but has also delighted others. They told me so.
I even had one review say the author would gladly ‘correct’ my writing for free just to see it done properly. Who is to say what it right? I have some books where the grammar was actually bad and the book still received great reviews, and I could not get past the first chapter. Were the reviews from family? They had to be. Mine, not a one, came from a family member. I wanted to clear this up and declare my editor-not guilty.
Grammar, Style, and, My Editor
I have several wonderful reviews on Circles, many in fact. However, some really bother me. They state my editor did not do his job in the grammar department. Indeed, he did! He polished it well. What threw him was my ‘style’ of writing.
My story takes place nearly five-hundred years ago and the language was very different no matter what dialect you spoke. I did my best to use words that would describe how the dialect might have gone—if it was in English, which it is not. Many, many words simply do not translate and I state this in my books.
No one knew what a ‘horse’ was let alone stallion, mare, foal, mane, bridle, and much more. I used ‘neck hair’ something they might have said to refer to a mane. I tried to show how some words could be understood to mean something else. I also used passive writing, a reflection of today’s still use in much of the Native world, such as my own grandparents used.
My story includes many sentences that sound incorrect to today’s ear. In the early to mid 1800′s, several hundred years later than my own story, many dialects mingled, and in many cases, some of it sounded Shakespearean. I have book from the 1800′s and some are hard to understand. My writing may confuse some, but has also delighted others. They told me so.
I even had one review say the author would gladly ‘correct’ my writing for free just to see it done properly. Who is to say what it right? I have some books where the grammar was actually bad and the book still received great reviews, and I could not get past the first chapter. Were the reviews from family? They had to be. Mine, not a one, came from a family member. I wanted to clear this up and declare my editor-not guilty.
January 31, 2013
Never Needs People
After hearing so much on the news about people flipping houses again and watching one neighbor buy an RV, two vans, a motorcycle, an old race car and a trailer to put it in, I just had to ask him why. His response was, “Because I can.”
I asked him how his granddaughter was doing in college. He told me she had to quit BECAUSE she could not continue paying for it!
All this reminded me of a story in Circles. I left out much of the story that had nothing to do with simply tell the story so it would be less to read. I feel it is an important lesson for us all.
“I have a story to tell now. I remember it best as the cold season with little food. I was but a girl then, maybe nine or ten winters old. There was such promise of a good hunt that year.
“All the adults agreed to meet in the tall grasslands after hunters spotted countless humpbacks, with their now grown calves enjoying the rich offering of grass. As with every gathering, many came to see friends and relatives, and to trade. The hunt, a bonus, would feed many for the entire season. People came pulling empty drags, made of wood and grasses woven into ropes, to carry the anticipated bounty back home.
“Children scattered everywhere, and all the adults, even ones of other bands, made sure they were looked after and fed. Elders who had a hard time walking came on their own special traveling mats, covered on the bottom with thick leather, which people happily took turns pulling. Entire camps just pulled up and moved, knowing no one would disturb their chosen snow camps.
“A new band never before seen came with all their finery. Beautiful necklaces adorned every person, even the children. Some wore so many that no one could see them all, unless they walked up close. They wore fine tanned clothing of many colors of brown. Their quillwork, even from a distance, competed with Nature’s own colors. Heavy packs on the men’s backs meant they had much to trade—or so we thought.
“We did not know these new people, but we welcomed them and gave them food. Their hair, adorned with many shells, hung loose over their backs. They wore footwear so decorated it seemed a shame to walk in them for as long as they did. Not a single person looked like they were in traveling clothes, but dressed as if for a special occasion. Our bands always traveled simple, saving their good clothes until the gathering.
“Our elders noticed one thing that bothered them greatly. There was not a single elder among those people. An elder woman from our band walked up to a woman with a child, and asked why the grandmother was not caring for her child. The woman’s reply was not a kind one.
“‘Why would she be doing that? She is too old to travel this far. It is a six-day walk. She is in our camp, where all the elders belong who cannot walk this far.’”
“Our elder replied, ‘Ahh, then some of your band stayed behind to care for them. Too bad, all would have had a good time.’
“The young woman said, ‘We left no one behind who could not care for themselves. They would have made the walk take longer. One of our runners came into camp and told of this great gathering he saw from afar, so we came to see. The elders can hunt—at least some of them can—until we come back.’
“Her words were sharp to our elder, who stood and watched as the younger woman dragged her child by the hand. The little girl had to run to keep up.
“The elder woman did not know what to do. Never had anyone spoken such harsh words to her. She started to walk after the woman, but her daughter gently guided her back and told her to let it go, that they were not of their band. The daughter comforted her mother and told her that maybe they were just tired. They would be friendlier after a night’s rest.
“The next day was devoted to the hunt, and many men and women gathered their weapons and formed into groups. Each one had a special thing to do, and everyone waited for the men of the new band to join. None came. Not one person looked their way. Even after several of our own motioned them to join, they did not come. Instead, the new band, quickly gaining the name People With No Respect, sat in the shade eating food they did not bring. Our hunters left without them.
“After a successful hunt, all our bands joined in making meat, tanning hides, and carrying many loads to the place of the gathering. The People With No Respect offered no help.
“Their selfish manner, by the fifth sunrise, caused us concern. Many tried to trade for their beautiful necklaces, and offered their own, as well as much meat. The People With No Respect took everything offered to them, but gave nothing back. Some of them even spoke about wanting more meat to take back with them, saying we should give it to them just because they came so far.
“Many of our gathered bands did not want them around our children. After they took their playthings to share, the People With No Respect’s children took and kept them. Their parents started to brag about all the land they said belonged to them, and everyone knows no one can own the land any more than they can own the air Wind brings.
“They showed off by changing their clothes every day, so everyone could see they had much in vanity, but nothing in humility. The heavy burdens they brought with them were not to trade with, but to prove how special they thought they were.”
Feather Floating In Water stood up to be seen. “Grandmother, why would such a People be so mean? How could they even survive if they did not care for their elders and children? How could they have so much, but have so little? They were rich in things, but they were poor as a People. Without sharing and being respectful and… and being so lazy! Where did they get so much when they gave nothing? Grandmother, I do not understand how this could be so.”
White Paws jumped up and licked Feather’s face, whining and wagging his tail.
The boy hugged the wolf and smiled at his constant shadow. “I am so happy to have such a caring family, and a caring band. How sad those children must have been.”
He sat down and with one arm hugged White Paws, and with the other his grandfather. Hawk Soaring leaned over and hugged him back.
Everyone sat silent. Several children crawled into a parent’s lap.
She watched as everyone hugged their children. “We are gifted to have had elders who taught us, Grandson.”
She started the story again. “Our own people began to argue about how to make them leave. This was not our way, but we had to do something soon. The elders decided, and told the strangers to carry as much meat as they could, instead of our just chasing them off.
“We did not want to do this. Many felt it was more than a bribe, but rewarding them for being disrespectful. Some said to give them the meat anyway, to get them to leave us. Seeing no other way, we gave them the meat and told them the gathering was over. Without a word, they gathered all they came with, plus all the meat. They had no way to haul everything, so our elders gave up their traveling mats to them.
“After they were gone, everyone packed up in silence. The gathering ended long before it was meant to, because everyone had to go home quickly in order to hunt for enough meat to get them through the harsh cold season.”
December 13, 2012
From A Very Special Lady About Circles.
Emlyn Chand’s review
Dec 13, 12
I’ve been a bit baffled over how I should review Circles. This book is unlike anything I’ve ever read before, and I mean that in the absolute best way possible.
Circles is not a book you read quickly and then forget. Its words dance circles around your head, absorb into your heart. And the best word I have to describe it is not entertaining, thought-provoking, illuminating, or any of the other words you might suspect in a book review–but rather peaceful, calming, tranquil.
I live with a lot of stress bubbling just beneath the surface. My brain refuses to shut off and at night I’m plagued my nightmares. I’ve tried reading self-help books to help me find peace, but they actually make me feel worse in most cases.
When I sat down to read Circles, I thought I’d be reading a nice work of fiction about a Native American tribe. I love learning about other cultures and happen to have 1/16 Cherokee in me, so I was excited for this journey.
What I got out of it was so much more.
I didn’t read this book, I lived it. Circles never felt like fiction to me. The trials of Feather, Bright Sun Flower, and Bear Tracks were my own. I was welcomed into a culture I’ve never known but from a distance, and what I found there was… peace.
Strangely enough, I haven’t had a single nightmare in the week since I read Circles–and I’ve had them almost every night of my life since the age of six. I even had one dream that was so pleasant that I woke up crying tears of joy.
I’ve also decided to respect my own body more and eat more holistically, take care of what Nature/God/The Universe has given me by treating it like it deserves.
This may seem like a lot to get from a work of fiction, but I know without a doubt that Circles did these things for me.
So take some time to really live this story, examine the world of the tribe, contrast it to the one we live in today, and try to learn something. Find your peace. I’m so glad I did!
Note: I cannot assign a star-rating to Circles, since I am doing some publicity work for the author. I hope my text review speaks for itself!
December 2, 2012
SPIRALS-Book 2 of Circles comes out today on Amazon
Native American Indian Historical Fiction – Charming Characters, Spiritual Culture – Evolved Publish
http://www.amazon.com/Spirals-ebook/d...
Book Description
Publication Date: December 1, 2012
Evolved Publishing brings you another rare glimpse into ancient Native American Indian culture, with “Spirals,” the much anticipated sequel to the critically acclaimed “Circles,” by Ruby Standing Deer. [Historical Fiction]
~~~~~~~~~~
A Holy Man, who lives in both this world and the Spirit world, waits hidden in a cave in the canyons, as a newly made woman runs toward him. She flees her would-be suitor, who wants from her more than she can give.
The Holy Man and his constant companions, a colony of mice, accept the woman within the cave. She worries that he may be crazy, but given her fear of the man who desires her, maybe crazy is not so bad.
In this sequel to Ruby Standing Deer’s first novel, Circles, the main character of Shining Light is now grown and with family. He dreams of the woman and the Holy Man in the canyons, and knows that, after four seasons of calm and peace in the Forest of Trees, he must go to them.
He seeks guidance, but the Spirits tell him only that he must rescue these two people. Yet he need not go alone. Ever Shining Light’s faithful companion and Wolf Brother, White Paws senses he must follow his Human Brother. Thus, one Human, one Wolf, and their two families set out for the unknown.
The adventure exceeds all of Shining Light’s expectations, and he learns more about his place in this world than the Holy Peoples of his band could ever teach him.
~~~~~
August 8, 2012
From Spirals~ Shining Light’s dicovery as he sings
“In the night air, Cricket chirps the song of my beating heart, filling me with inner knowing.
My body sways with the song.
I feel the music go through me, through the roots of my feet and into Mother’s womb, creating a balance of harmony.
Every living being moves to the music that creates the dance of life I move to.
Sister Wind carries this dance, caressing each blade of grass, each leaf of every plant.
She gives to all that is and will be passing on a piece of Energy with each caress… passes it on.
I am this energy. I am so much more.
I sway to this gentle breeze of inner knowing.
I am Cricket’s song…I am Cricket’s song.”
