Finalist Reviews

With his latest book, Edward S. Curtis, Printing the Legends: Looking at Shadows in a West Lit Only by Fire, Dr. Larry Len Peterson has produced the definitive tribute to one of the early twentieth century’s most legendary photographers.

Above all, the book, like Curtis’s photography, is beautiful. Even a quick glance reveals the stunning quality of the volume’s 250 full-color illustrations. While the majority of these images are, of course, Curtis’s, Peterson also utilizes the works of other Western-art icons—ranging from Thomas Moran and Charlie Russell to E. I. Couse and Maynard Dixon—to aid readers in visualizing the artistic milieu in which Curtis worked.

A deeper dive into Printing the Legends’s exhaustive text tells the photographer’s full story in spectacular detail. Curtis was a master of Pictorialism, a turn-of-the-twentieth-century movement that focused on mood and atmosphere in an effort to elevate photography to the status of fine art. Curtis also subscribed to the then-prevalent, although erroneous, belief that America’s Indigenous Peoples were destined to disappear. Accordingly, he devoted much of his life to creating The North American Indian, a twenty-volume, 2,200-image portfolio celebrating Native American culture from the Southwest to Canada and Alaska. Such was the impact of Curtis’s artistry that his work became synonymous with the very concept of “The Vanishing Race.”

Although Printing the Legends concentrates on Curtis, Peterson augments the photographer’s story with historical context on topics ranging from the devasting effects of federal government Indian policy to the contributions of Civil-War-photographer Mathew Brady and pioneering conservationist George Bird Grinnell.

A long-time resident of Oregon, Peterson is a native of Plentywood, Montana, and multi-award-winning author of numerous books on Western art, history, and culture, including a 2015 High Plains Book Award for Charles M. Russell: Photographing the Legend. He has also been recognized by the C. M. Russell Museum and the Montana Historical Society Board of Trustees for his numerous contributions to Montana history and culture.

Now retired, historian Kirby Lambert spent more than three-and-a-half decades working for the Montana Historical Society as registrar, curator, and education administrator.

Readers will be in for a wild and wonderful journey when they pick up John Henry Haseltine’s Westward & Miserable, a finalist for the High Plains International Book Award in the Art & Photography category. The paintings accompanying each story are a marvelous excursion into a fantasized Western America, with the stories showcasing Mr. Haseltine’s sense of humor. There are bold colors, a recurring backdrop of mountains, ever-changing sky colorations and, of course, the bug-eyed wonderment of each individual.

The gonzo writing reminds me of the late Hunter S. Thompson and will surely put smiles on the faces of readers of this alternative Western saga. One of the peculiarities of Mr. Haseltine’s paintings is how often an object or image shows up thirteen times. Be it birds, birch trees, crosses, or buffalo, they are all a part of the story. Coincidentally, I counted thirteen paintings which held thirteen of the same image. A David Lynch soundtrack would be terrific background music when reading this book.

As readers join Mr. Hazeltine in his alternative take on the West, keep an eye out for a David Bowie cameo appearance. Join the party and take the ride – you won’t be disappointed.

Are you bird-curious but feel intimidated by thick field guides and other ornithological tomes? Never fear, Birding for Boomv, by award-winning author Sneed B. Collard III, is just the book for you. It is a delightful, accessible, and wonderfully instructive guide for novice birders as well as a finalist for the High Plains International Book Award for Nonfiction. Collard packs this little book with loads of useful information, explaining how to get started, what gear and tools you will need, and where you can go for a great experience. Good news for homebodies—you don’t even need to leave your own backyards if you don’t want to!

Keeping it lighthearted, Collard sweetens every page with his signature sense of humor. He also takes special care to show how birding can be accessible for those dealing with physical limitations. Hearing loss, eyesight issues, or just a “broken-down boomer bod” needn’t discourage potential enthusiasts. He wants his readers to know that birding can be a joyful activity for people of any age.

Although this book is ideal for the beginning birder, Collard wisely suspects that once you’re hooked, you’ll want to go to the next level, so he includes a section on building an “Advanced Birding Arsenal.” Here you’ll learn more about pricey spotting scopes, sophisticated ornithological Websites, and even the allure of bird photography. Happily, this book is not only informative but also eye-catching. Tanner Barkin’s whimsical illustrations bring delight to every page. Birding for Boomers is a handy, exuberant, good-humored introduction to the wonderful world of bird watching.

Elk Love: A Montana memoir, a memoir/creative nonfiction finalist written by Lynne Spriggs O’Connor, is a love story, and to quote Pam Houston, “It is impossible to tell whether the real object of desire is the man, the mountain he lives on or the elk that stands on that mountain and bugles to his mate.” It is well written, and I must confess I approached it with a certain hesitation, as I am not usually drawn to romantic sentimentality. In plainspeak, though, it is not sappy. Rather, it is about two people, each carrying their own heartache who lean into the land, the animals (both wild and domestic), and, finally, each other.

O'Connor is a museum professional, an Easterner who spent numerous summers on the Blackfeet reservation doing research. But summer visits do not a native make. The wilderness was still “out there.” Then she moved west following a life-altering condition. Spoiler alert: it resolves but eliminates any hope of pregnancy. The following passage best describes her new life: “On weekdays, I dress in a skirt and blouse, drive five minutes to the museum in Great Falls where I spend long days researching and organizing Native American works of art for a bison exhibit. On weekends, I check road conditions, dress in muck boots and a Carhartt jacket.”

What I appreciated most was the pacing. The book follows the seasons of ranching, the cycle of wildlife, all of which contribute deeply to the evolving relationship at the story's core. There is no sense of rushing. It is more about discovery. She learns to accept the harshness of the land and the realities of husbandry to slaughter. He is slow to trust his feelings, mourning a deceased wife who in memory becomes more. The story is less about the two of them and more about finding her place in his world.

For my personal reading experience, she mentions interesting people she has met, some of whom I knew from my own museum career. The late George Horse Capture was a mentor to her and to me. Quite apart from my personal connection to people mentioned, though, I recommend the book for its descriptive narrative. Once into it, I wanted to go there.

The story of Abby the Antelope, a children's picture book finalist for the High Plains International Book Awards by Edie Vogel with illustrations by Sarah J. Broesder, is relatable for any child. As Abby seeks to find her uniqueness in a herd of identical antelope, she tries different ways to stand out and realizes that it isn’t easy.

The life lessons that children can learn are numerous, as each attempt will be familiar to kids, and the struggle with wanting to stand out while remaining in peer groups is one that even adults often have. Vogel explores in simple scenarios with whimsical art by Broesder how belonging and individuality are not mutually exclusive. Differences are not always outward but sometimes are more on the inside, and what is important is that we accept who we are and strive to be the best version of ourselves.

I am excited to give this book to my granddaughter. As she learns to traverse this world, this book will illustrate great lessons for her. Never take yourself for granted. Be yourself even if you feel ordinary. Don’t be afraid to try new things. Take risks, be adventurous. Love who you are, and love who you are with. Even adults could learn a thing or two from Abby!

Butterfly on the Wind by Adam Pottle and illustrated by Ziyue Chen is a Children's Picture Book finalist for this year's High Plains International Book Awards. The story begins with a relatable emotion for most young readers: anxiety. Kids who have been asked to participate in classroom story times, skits, or talent shows will immediately feel a connection with Aurora as she struggles to rehearse the story she wants to share at her talent show. They will sympathize as, frustrated with her own stuttering, Aurora turns longingly to the butterflies in her garden and wishes that her own life could be so simple or that she could escape her own worries by flying away.

While speaking in public is a fairly widespread fear, Aurora's challenge is complicated by the fact that she is deaf and speaks in a language many people do not understand: sign language. With a vibrant art style and clear, direct sentences, Butterfly on the Wind shows young readers and their adult reading partners that we can communicate with our hands just like we can communicate with our voices. In a collection of vignettes spanning the ocean, the book illustrates a world where those who are deaf and hard-of-hearing always have someone to talk with: those who also know sign language.

In a world where too many deaf children are denied not only the chance to fully learn sign language but also the crucial sense of connection and support of a community who shares their language, deaf representation in children's literature is critical. Both the author and the illustrator are deaf, and together they have presented a story that creates strong incentives for all of us, not just those who are deaf, to learn sign language.

A Place Called Yellowstone: The Epic History of the World's First national Park by Randall K. Wilson is a finalist for the 2025 High Plains International Book Awards in the Creative Nonfiction/Memoir category. The author is Professor of Environmental Studies at Gettysburg College, and, as the title suggests, this book is about the history of Yellowstone National Park, the first U. S. National Park, established by U. S. Congress in 1872. Yellowstone has been called Wonderland, America’s Serengeti, the crown jewel of the National Park System, America’s best idea, and a symbol of our country. So writes the author as he introduces the book. George Catlin proposed a park based on his 1830s travels in the region of Wyoming and Montana. His hope was “A nation’s Park, containing man and beast, in all the wild and freshness of their nature’s beauty.” While the author doesn't mention Catlin's proposal, this book is a well-written and detailed account of the history and development of the 2.2 million-acre Yellowstone National Park and surrounding region, and how it relates to the larger story of the American nation.

It is both environmental and human history, beginning with geologic events including the eruption of the Yellowstone supervolcano 2.1 million years ago, and then following with accounts of Paleo Indians 13,000 years ago, early use by Native American tribes, arrival of Europeans, individual exploits, and explorations. Some of the often-told stories are not new to most readers of Montana history, including, for instance, John Colter’s run from Blackfeet warriors. There is excellent discussion about early non-Indigenous explorations of the Yellowstone Valley that includes those by Hayden, Washburn, Raynolds, and others. However, there is no reference to what guides, including Colter, Bridger, and Meldrum, learned about the area from the Crow (Apsáalooke). Local, regional, and national politics and personalities are discussed in detail, including the bureaucratic goals and blunders of YNP and NPS supervisors including N. P. Langford, P. W. Norris, and Stephen Mather.

Other topics include Native American land dispossession, land rights disputes, tensions between commercialism including tourism, and wildlife management including feeding bears by tourists, wolf reintroduction, and brucellosis. Wilson also discusses advertising that helped promote the Park. This includes references to paintings and photographs by William Henry Jackson, Thomas Moran, and official Park photographer F. J. Haynes, although there is no reference to the popular photographic postcards by Haynes. William Clark's 1814 map, other contemporary maps, and photographs of Native Americans who used the Park would have been good additions. The Nez Perce path through Yellowstone Park is indistinct on the map of the 1877 trail.

The last chapter discusses how scientific research in Yellowstone has contributed to discoveries related to COVID-19, DNA, climate change, sustainable ecology, and the balance of nature preservation with recreational tourism and commercial development. The author also mentions the recent Intertribal Bison Cooperative and Buffalo field campaign, Indigenous events in the Park, and the concept of co-managing Yellowstone by the National Park Service and Indigenous peoples. Wilson finishes with the central question: “Yellowstone for whom?” Despite the occasional omissions mentioned above, this book is a good read for anyone interested in the complex history and current issues of Yellowstone National Park.

Elk Love: A Montana memoir, a memoir/creative nonfiction finalist written by Lynne Spriggs O’Connor, is a love story, and to quote Pam Houston, “It is impossible to tell whether the real object of desire is the man, the mountain he lives on or the elk that stands on that mountain and bugles to his mate.” It is well written, and I must confess I approached it with a certain hesitation, as I am not usually drawn to romantic sentimentality. In plainspeak, though, it is not sappy. Rather, it is about two people, each carrying their own heartache who lean into the land, the animals (both wild and domestic), and, finally, each other.

O'Connor is a museum professional, an Easterner who spent numerous summers on the Blackfeet reservation doing research. But summer visits do not a native make. The wilderness was still “out there.” Then she moved west following a life-altering condition. Spoiler alert: it resolves but eliminates any hope of pregnancy. The following passage best describes her new life: “On weekdays, I dress in a skirt and blouse, drive five minutes to the museum in Great Falls where I spend long days researching and organizing Native American works of art for a bison exhibit. On weekends, I check road conditions, dress in muck boots and a Carhartt jacket.”

What I appreciated most was the pacing. The book follows the seasons of ranching, the cycle of wildlife, all of which contribute deeply to the evolving relationship at the story's core. There is no sense of rushing. It is more about discovery. She learns to accept the harshness of the land and the realities of husbandry to slaughter. He is slow to trust his feelings, mourning a deceased wife who in memory becomes more. The story is less about the two of them and more about finding her place in his world.

For my personal reading experience, she mentions interesting people she has met, some of whom I knew from my own museum career. The late George Horse Capture was a mentor to her and to me. Quite apart from my personal connection to people mentioned, though, I recommend the book for its descriptive narrative. Once into it, I wanted to go there.

A Woman Among Wolves: My Journey Through Forty Years of Wolf Recovery by Diane K. Boyd is a finalist for the High Plains International Book Award in Memoir/Creative Nonfiction. As its subtitle establishes, the book chronicles the author’s forty years working with wild wolves in Montana. Boyd’s field study focuses not on the reintroduced Yellowstone population, but rather on wolves naturally dispersing into and around Glacier National Park. She has been tracking, trapping, and monitoring these animals for as long as they’ve been present in the region. Boyd’s memoir combines first-hand field research with outdoor adventure; fittingly, the foreword is by Douglas Chadwick, arguably Montana’s leading contemporary practitioner of this sort of science-based storytelling. Chadwick is not the only notable endorsing the book; in addition to praise from wolf biographers Nate Blakeslee and Rick McIntyre, a front-cover blurb is provided by no less a luminary than Jane Goodall.

The book proves worthy of such support. Readers accompany Boyd as she treks through snow and across rivers, following wolf tracks and the “pings” of radio collars. Chapters are devoted to individual wolves such as Kishinena, who blazed a canine trail from Canada into Montana in the late 1970s. Boyd always retains a scientist’s devotion to facts, but, like McIntyre, she presents the wolves as individuals with their own personalities and life stories. Boyd introduces an array of scientific colleagues, backcountry pilots, and friends, but also a few politicians and outfitters who are not pleased with the new animal in the forest or comfortable with the presence of a woman in a male-dominated field. In addition to such human obstacles, she is confronted by storms, grizzlies, and even an unhappy mountain lion inadvertently caught in one of her research traps. Encompassing decades of hard-earned experience in sure-handed prose, A Woman Among Wolves infuses a venerable subgenre with timely commentary and hard-earned wisdom.

A finalist in the Fiction category of the High Plains International Book Awards, Joe Wilkins’ second novel The Entire Sky offers its readers a rich, unsettling narrative stretching from an underpass in Seattle to the plains of Montana. Rejected by his mother in the city, then bullied and beaten by his uncle in logging country, Justin finds himself homeless at sixteen, on the road with his guitar and little else—certainly without much sense of direction. His journey east ends at a sheep ranch in Delphia, Montana, where the aging owner, Rene Bouchard, has recently been widowed.

Justin and the lonely grieving Rene develop a bond that seems more familial than the relationships Rene had with his wife and grown children. In a pleasant irony, the homeless boy inspires a fresh bond between Rene and his one adult daughter Lianne. Growing more sensitive like a father, Rene teaches Justin when and how to help a sheep give birth to three lambs, including a runt. But nothing new is as good as it seems. The uninitiated Justin later soberingly learns that all three of the lambs, of course, are destined for the slaughter. So, too, an image of an unmaternal world revisits Justin in an encounter with a sheep who will not suckle her newborn.

As a “history” of sorts, the narrative alternates between the dominant present (“APRIL 1994”) and various scenes of the past (“BEFORE”), leaving the reader a great deal of past and present to piece together. The alternating time frames reinforce the novel’s abiding premise of a past still present and dynamic, for better and for worse. To some extent, the narrative’s temporal shifts dissolve the boundary between memory and experience while retaining the unpleasant suggestion that memory looms as the experience we cannot resolve.Although perhaps too wary of optimism for some readers, this novel will appeal to many for its principal characters in the process of redefining themselves, and for its quiet, “undisclosed” conclusion at which the reader is left to conjecture on the author’s “ellipsis” . . .

Not the Killing Kind by Maria Kelson is a phenomenal story about a single mother pulling out all the stops to clear her adopted son's name after he is accused of murder. Boots Marez runs a school that helps undocumented migrants and their families in Northern California. Her son is a high school senior and gets mixed up with some dangerous people. One of his closest friends is killed, and he gets arrested for the crime. Boots then goes on a mission to locate the true killer to clear her son. Along the way she encounters many dark secrets and harrowing pasts in the town whose citizens she has dedicated herself to helping for so many years.

Kelson’s writing gives us well-thought-out plotting and metaphors we didn’t know we needed. Her exploration of Boots’s emotional range and depth is exquisite. Pushing the boundaries of race, culture, and social status, the author has provided us with an insight into the lives of single mothers of different backgrounds and the struggles they face. Kelson adds another layer by including the roller coaster that adoption can be.

Kelson’s description is evocative, linking character and setting, as when she describes Humboldt County as "a great place to lie. The geography of the place supports it, a land full of trickery." Boots then reveals that even after two decades of residence, she only fits in after she makes false statements to gain the information she needs for her mission.
For a debut thriller, Not the Killing Kind sets the bar very high. I look forward to reading what Maria Kelson offers next.

The Boy Who Promised Me Horses, a finalist in the Memoir/Creative Nonfiction category, is a warm but sad account of author David Charpentier’s friendship with 9-year-old Maurice Prairie Chief in Ashland, Montana. It is perhaps as much of a story of Dave’s personal experiences as a young high school teacher at St. Labre’s Indian Catholic School as a sweet remembrance of Mo’s brief life. Dave was forever impacted by his unexpected closeness to this charming Northern Cheyenne boy who offered him open acceptance and introduced him to his tribe, his family and his amazing physical surroundings.

Mo literally bounced into Dave’s life as he moved into The Village at St. Labre’s to begin his commitment (perhaps one year?) to teach English on the reservation. A recent Minnesota graduate from St. John’s University he was unaware of the draw he would have to this perceived desolate piece of Eastern Montana.Mo and his cousin Junior dropped by on bicycle three days after Dave arrived in Montana. They offered help in his moving in and within days were persuading Dave to fish and explore with them. “Okay. Teacher Dave from Minnesota, what do you want me to carry?” “Hey teacher Dave…wanna try fishing?” “Hey Dave! We should check out Fisher’s Butte sometime.”A close friendship developed between Dave and Maurice despite their difference in age and backgrounds. Fishing, biking, hiking and street Wiffleball games joined the two. Mo’s grandmother was the one stable adult in his life but she was also the main caregiver to his siblings and cousins (cuss-ins) and accomplished all of this from a chair at the kitchen table.

Dave did not use his position at the Catholic school to attempt to “convert” his students but asked them to be respectful of beliefs of the white man at mandatory Mass as he was of theirs during his engagement in powwows and sweats. Dave’s one year in Ashland turned into four and he has never lost his close connection with those he met there. He continues to advocate for many Indian kids who to enhance their access to premium education and other opportunities.

Dave’s story does not end with Maurice Prairie Chief’s tragic death at the age of 17 as he and a friend were trying to outrun a train at midnight. Mo’s story is the everyday story of the many challenges families on the reservations face…stories of love, caring, loss and grief. David (Sharp) Charpentier continues his relationship with the Cheyenne community he so amazingly embraced many years ago. He is currently the director of St. Labre Indian School’s Alumni Support Program and with this memoir continues to broaden the understanding of the joys and struggles of those living in our nation’s reservation communities like Ashland, Montana.This is at once a delightful read about unlikely friendship and caring as well as a sad commentary on issues many Montanans still do not acknowledge. In this book we experience first-hand the realities that poverty and prejudice have created for all of us.

E. McGregor’s debut poetry collection What Fills Your House Like Smoke, a First Book finalist for the High Plains International Book Awards, boasts the narrative poise, trenchant wit, and prosodic variety of a mid- or late-career work. The person around whom these poems constellate is the poet’s late grandmother—a Métis woman who acquires “a fur collar, a third baby, two divorces” from one lover and “a plastic hospital bracelet with her name and birthdate on it” from another. McGregor’s deep interest in and fraught relationship with ethnicity generate tremendous heat; nowhere is this heat more incandescent, perhaps, than the opening strophes of “Weeds”:

Don’t judge me too harshly
for not understanding the small things
that come with your blood
this whole world is *lled with white
people talking, I can’t help but be one
even though I’m trying
they have me by the roots
it’s confusing having so many
seeds penetrate my skull
as if my brain was a fertile pot
but then I suppose something in me ought
to be; my womb
dried up and unused like an ornamental crab-
apple.

The synthesis of legal, horticultural, and maternal images here is brilliant. McGregor requests clemency not because whiteness is innocent but because whiteness is ineradicable: she describes it as an invasive plant denying native plants adequate light, water, habitat. The refusal of motherhood in such circumstances seems both a personal choice and a political imperative. That she apostrophizes herself as a child (“Learning to Count”), an adolescent (“Advice to my seventeen-year-old self”), and an adult (“Instructions for the Death of a Grandmother”) suggests her key questions may be questions of address: Whom do I speak to, for, about? Which voices has the world at large muted? Which amplified? What are the uses of and problems with silence? The collection’s coda, “Bodies,” finds McGregor trading the company of her sick grandmother for the company of lubricious strangers:

During the nights, free from the hospital, this body poisons itself so that not-good men will be liberated to express their desire for it. Not-good men grab at it, prod it, squeeze it. A not-good hand slips up this body’s skirt at a party, in front of not-good eyes that see and not-good mouths that laugh. This poisoned body sits on not-good laps, considers not-good options.

This litany of sinister people (“not-good men”), organs (“not-good eyes”), seats (“not-good laps”), and abstractions (“not-good options”) counterpoints the peace found elsewhere in the poem—every elegy, as McGregor knows, being less about an empty house and more about those things rapping on the casements and roosting under the eaves. McGregor has written a beautiful book that explores the distinction between grieving and being aggrieved. May she write her next one as soon as possible.

While not usually a mystery lover, I was so excited to get my hands on The Case of the Pilfered Pin by Misipawistik Cree First Nations author Michael Hutchinson, a finalist in this year’s Indigenous Writer category. This fifth addition to the Might Muskrat Mysteries series works well as both a sequel and a stand-alone story. The book follows the Mighty Muskrats (Sam, Otter, Atim, and Chickadee) as they track down a missing survey pin that proves where the (fictional) Windy Lake First Nation’s reserve land ends.

This book is so cute. I can absolutely imagine my nieces and nephews trying to solve mysteries just like the Muskrats. The mystery flows so well that I could not put the book down. It was gone in one sitting. The characters and environment are so well-written that I had no trouble immersing myself in the Windy Lake reserve. There is also a good blend of history that accompanies the mystery, which is unsurprising, given that part of Hutchinson’s intention in writing the series is to educate young people, especially in Canada. It is like the Muskrats are not just finding clues to solve the case but also finding pieces of their own First Nations history. And I cannot stress enough how cute it is! I am buying the rest of the series for my nieces and nephews so they can feel like Mighty Muskrats too!

Tanning Moosehides: The Northern Saskatchewan Trapline Way, An Easy Step-by-Step Guide by Tommy Bird, Lawrence Adam, and Lena Adam (with Miriam Korner) is a finalist in the High Plains International Book Awards Indigenous Writer category.

The title says it all. One could actually do the task with this book in hand. Tanning was a critical skill passed down from generation to generation from a time when hide formed clothing, shelter, harnesses, snowshoe straps, and other items of survival. The authors of this book are carrying the skill forward and teaching others. Hides are still used to make traditional dress and moccasins. The arduous process requires a combination of traditional tools such as scrapers made from the back leg of a deer or bear. I did notice a piece of steel was used and modern tools were listed as an alternative. Small nod to this century.

The photographs show each part as one proceeds through building the frame to stretch the hide, removing the hair, scraping the flesh, making brain soup as a tanning agent, and smoking it. Along the way there is a lot of soaking and stretching. After each step, the book suggests the “tanner” keep notes of what to or not to do and asks that the knowledge be passed on. The book is easy to follow in part because it is devoid of sentiment, quips, and wisdom from the native people doing the work. But that in my mind also removes the essence of the process. While Korner has collaborated with elders and is attempting to learn traditional ways since migrating from Germany, the spirit of Bird, Adam, and Adam seems absent in the writing. I would have enjoyed - even expected - some stories from the People to add richness to the traditional heritage of tanning. However, it is truly a “Step-by-Step" guide, and from that point of view it does the job.

I’m a novel junky so when I read nonfiction for the High Plains International Book Awards, I am pleased to learn a lot about people and places in high plains regions. In the Country of the Kaw by James H. Locklear, a finalist in this year's Nonfiction category, was a real treat in this regard & more!

I was engaged and intrigued from the start. Locklear’s descriptions of geology, ecology and associated wildlife are so unique and lively that one just wants to take it all in. His perspectives on the history of the area, along with deep and insightful awareness of the impact of human progress, are elucidating and instructive but never without a positive approach. The book is organized in a very creative way, with interesting chapter titles and a small section of photos to highlight vistas, historical stone buildings, and some of the local plants and wildlife, including the spectacular Franklin gulls.

He delights rock lovers by including terminology such as lithophilia, and he describes artifacts of stone from prehistoric quarries that were carried by nomadic peoples from 12,700 to 13,250 years ago. The fascination Locklear experiences with his deep dives into the different subjects is contagious. We learn about the aquatic life through his inquires with fishery and stream biologists and a Kansas State University Professor specializing in Great Plains streams, particularly the Kansas River basin. Here he states that the ‘research papers are peppered with words like “degraded,” “highly endangered”, “alarming”, even “bleak.” Though he finishes that section with this statement: “But life endures even in the more altered parts of the Kaw and its tributaries, and that is a gift worth opening as well.” His bibliography is extensive and impressive, a wealth of knowledge explored and synthesized to bring to life the magic of this little-known area to entice the reader to appreciate and savor.

Timothy C. Winegard's The Horse: A Galloping History of Humanity is an epic history unlike any other. The story began more than 5,500 years ago on the windswept grasslands of the Eurasian Steppe; when one human tamed one horse. An unbreakable bond was forged and the future of humanity was instantly rewritten, placing the reins of destiny firmly in human hands. Since that pivotal day, the horse has carried the history of civilizations on its powerful back. For millennia it was the primary mode of transportation, an essential farming machine, a steadfast companion, and a formidable weapon of war. Possessing a unique combination of size, speed, strength, and stamina, the horse dominated every facet of human life and shaped the very scope of human ambition. Driven by fascinating revelations and fast-paced storytelling, The Horse is a riveting narrative of this noble animal's unrivaled and enduring reign across human history.

For most of us, horses are not part of our everyday, practical lives. We mostly know about horses through entertainment and recreation: racing, rodeos and equestrian competitions, television shows, and movies depicting bygone eras. Winegard examines the sweeping equine supremacy as our pivotal sidekick from all perspectives to demonstrate the profound historical impact of the horse on our global civilization. Horses revolutionized the way we hunted, traded, traveled, farmed, fought, worshipped, and interacted. They reshaped the human genome and the world's linguistic map. Horses determined international borders, molded cultures, fueled economies, and built global superpowers. They decided the destinies of conquerors and empires. The narrative explores the impact of horses on the spread of particular languages (Indo-European), migration (recent DNA findings have helped greatly with tracing large movements of particular populations), trade, governance (the rise of patriarchies, empires, wars of conquest), the military, and more. Within these discussions, Winegard discusses the ancient Assyrians, Scythians, Egyptians, Alexander the Great, the Persian Empire, and many more. Beyond Alexander, we get a back and forth description of the two great powers rising in the East and West—China and Rome—and how events in the former (the Mongols being driven out) greatly affected the end of the latter. Horses were both vectors of lethal disease and contributors to lifesaving medical innovations (e.g. DtAP vaccine). Horses inspired architecture, invention (e.g. stirrups for one), furniture, and fashion (e.g. pants).

Eventually we arrive at the horse’s reintroduction into its land of origin, via Columbus’ second trip to the New World in 1493. To make the loss not just in human life but also human civilization clearer, Winegard spends some time detailing the varied achievements of the Meso-American empires like the Incas and Aztecs. Winegard does a nice job of exploring how the introduction of the horse into native culture was a two-edged sword, distorting traditional boundaries and cultures, as well as throwing the ecological balance on the plains out of whack.

The Horse is a deeply informated work that does not focus so intensely on its subject that one loses sight of what is happening in the world/society outside that focus. Winegard expertly zooms out to present us a wider context and then zooms back in to show how the horse fits within that context. To know the horse is to understand the world.

As a former poet laureate of Montana, Melissa Kwasny is familiar to many people, and her work includes not only poetry but also essays and full-length nonfiction. The Cloud Path, her seventh poetry collection, is a poetry finalist for the High Plains International Book Awards this year, and it is her most approachable book so far. Blending the familiar with the esoteric is a common theme throughout Kwasny’s work, and in this latest collection, she intermingles those elements like a consummate baker creating the perfect pastry, delicious because of its many layers.

A major over-arching theme Kwasny explores in The Cloud Path is grief, something familiar to everyone. In its various guises, it stalks us all, and these poems alternately dissect, lament, and observe the interplay of private losses with more broadly shared traumas like climate change. In “The First to Change,” the author’s dying mother “slips like the creek slips through the afternoon, each day quieter, more shallow.” Then later, in “The Prickly Pear Path,” we are reminded that “we borrow from Earth all the metaphors we will need.” Nature imagery abounds as the poems expand on singular moments – watching snow geese, walking amidst aspens, moving a stained-glass window – to meditate on fragility and resilience.

One quibble I consistently have with Kwasny’s poetry is that I find myself wanting a bibliography or “suggested reading” section at the end, so that I can follow up by exploring more of the authors Kwasny mentions. Virginia Woolf, Elizabeth Bishop, Plato, and Buson all make appearances on these pages, often in the form of “Buson wrote…,” and it is a testament to Kwasny’s skill that these inclusions meld seamlessly as part of her poems. Good poems act as conversation starters, and often Kwasny’s poems stimulate dialogue with the work of other authors. As the poems in this collection suggest, community and connection transcend grief.

Patrick Thomas Henry’s story collection Practice for Becoming a Ghost, a finalist in the short story category of the High Plains International Book Awards, is an eclectic mix of the realistic and the fabulous. The writing is lush with description, particularly when he writes about the sky. There are themes of loss – loss of spouses and children, loss of jobs, loss of rural land threatened by gentrification, and loss of humanity as people turn into animals. One of my favorites is "Seven Flock the Transom: From the Wire Reports.” A writer at a failing online magazine writes articles about people turning into birds, which he describes in humorous detail, eventually...well, you'll have to read the story to find out the ending! Other stories are a bit creepy – in particular, one about a woman who has strange roommates and another about an encounter with a priest. An old hacksaw is referred to as “grandmother,” and her many woodworking projects are listed. “Self-Portrait with Windmill” is about a robotic painter, which I take to be a commentary on the growing AI trend. Henry may feel actual writers will soon be replaced by machines, as is already happening with college term papers. Overall, the stories are ironic, witty, and sometimes a bit chilling. Maybe this is what he means by the title, Practice for Becoming a Ghost.

HARBOR LIGHTS by James Lee Burke, a finalist in this year's Short Stories category of the High Plains International Book Awards, collects 7 short stories and a novella. Exploring the recurring theme of humans mistreating other humans, these narratives often include overt violence and death but plumb psychological mistreatment as well. The author gives the characters (and readers) a way to wrestle with their own ethics, morality, and courage. While the stories are considered fiction, the writing is so adept that I kept wondering that surely the vignettes were based on true stories.

Two of the seven stories are set in Louisiana, and this is where the author really shines, with vivid descriptions of two-story, white-as-wedding-cake, antebellum houses, and moss hanging from cypress trees that sit in the brackish, slow-moving water of the swamp. The author takes the reader through the Louisiana Bayou, the Bayou Teche, and the Atchafalaya swamp.

The first Louisiana story "Harbor Lights" is set in 1942 and narrated by AaronBroussard, a young boy who is tagging along with his father to the oil fields. Set in New Iberia, Louisiana, during the middle of World War II, Aaron witnesses deathand carnage when the Germans sink a U.S. freighter off the coast. Shadowy quasi-law enforcement descends on New Iberia looking for communist sympathizers and, with dubious evidence, snares a friend of the Broussards.

The second Louisiana story is "Strange Cargo," also narrated by Aaron Broussard; however, now he is of retirement age. Aaron has returned to New Iberia and lives in the old family home on the coast, where years ago the pirate, Jean Lafitte (a real historical pirate), would anchor his boats and come ashore to sell his cargo of stolen goods and kidnapped slaves. Aaron wrestles with his family’s past relationship with slavery. He also struggles with his own mortality, as he has cancer, and he tries to belatedly come to terms with the fractured relationship he had with his deceased daughter.

The other stories tackle similarly grim narratives, but the complexity of the characters' journeys and the evocative imagery that are signatures of Burke's style will likely delight not only his many existing fans but also new readers as well.

Tristan & Lancelot: A Tale of Two Knights by James Persichetti with art by L. S. Biehler is a finalist in the Young Adult category of this year’s High Plains International Book Awards. Telling the story in the graphic novel format is a perfect complement to the setting within the world of Arthurian legend, a myth we all know so well. In this version, Merlin goes missing, and King Arthur calls upon a gifted magician to help locate and return him to Camelot. This magician is his sister Morgan le Fey, and she once trained with Merlin. Arthur tasks Morgan with finding him because his aid is necessary to save Camelot from a horde of brutish creatures wreaking havoc. Morgan agrees but is saddled with two Knights of the Round Table, Sir Lancelot and Tristan. Although the quest involves plenty of swordplay and magic, the secrets these two knights hold drive the heart of the narrative.

By combining the hero’s journey with a coming-of-age tale, James Persichetti has given readers a graphic novel that depicts the true meaning of friendship and trust, with quick-witted, refreshing characters who tease each other as much as they support each other. The characters are complicated enough that their journey convinces readers that individuals are capable of more than they believe, as long as they stay true to their values, including the core value of honoring close relationships. Queer storylines are woven throughout the narrative in believable ways that are appropriate both for the depicted time period and the core YA audience, and the illustrations from L.S. Biehler are nothing less than spectacular. Although the book is already dense, one improvement could have been more full-page spreads from Biehler. I hope James has more stories to tell us.

I loved Cricket’s Choice by Sheila Ruble, a finalist in this year's Young Adult category of the High Plains International Book Awards. It is the second of two books that feature 13-year-old Cricket O’Conner and her oddly named horse, Gonna Be. The earlier book is Fire Pony, which I also loved. Sheila has been writing for children for many years and understands the authenticity it takes to reach that audience. I spent decades living and working in eastern Montana, so when I read about Cricket and her family, I recognized that they are the real thing. The characters and settings are so well-described that I could easily imagine myself at the O’Conner place, visiting with her parents while watching Cricket work with her horses. Additionally, as a school psychologist, I am happy that Cricket has supportive adults and family around her because life gives her plenty of challenges.

In Fire Pony, Cricket and Gonna Be survive a life-threatening trauma. In Cricket’s Choice, we see the emotional consequences that haunt her from then on. In this, the author gives us a good portrayal of post-traumatic stress syndrome as we might see it in children. Cricket falls apart, and even Gonna Be has his problems. From the beginning, they don’t get along, but the arc of their joint healing is the heart of the book. One of the unexpected things about Fire Pony and Cricket’s Choice, written for older children and early teens, is that adults like them, too. I have always felt that a great book for children can be a great book for all ages, and these books hit that mark, relating a compelling story that works on many levels.

Importantly, Sheila Ruble is the right person to write this book. She is an expert animal trainer and has a lifetime’s worth of experience working with children through 4-H. The book itself is beautifully typeset and features well-done illustrations. If, like me, you enjoy stories about coming of age, then you want this book. (Cricket’s Choice can be understood without reading Fire Pony.)