Book 14 for 2026: “Forgotten Landscapes: How Native Americans Created Pre-Columbian North America and What Can We Learn From It”, Stanley A. Rice


The title of this non-fiction book explains what this book is about. The author is emeritus professor of biological science at Southeastern Oklahoma State University and of Cherokee heritage. He cites all the historical findings and current research regarding how natives used fire to control forests and grasslands, the numerous large native cities found both in US and Latin America using lidar technology, and how the colonists were totally mistaken when they thought they had found a land that lacked the influence of humans regarding forestry, farming, orchard keeping, etc.

He notes that the way the indigenous people in the US farmed and maintained orchards was not like those of the Europeans so they thought no one was doing anything and they were incorrect. He also goes into a lot of the history about how European diseases especially brought about the demise (genocide) of millions of native peoples even often those who had not themselves seen Europeans. Many European diseases spread from domesticated animals to humans (he provides a long list) and natives had no immunity. He cites of only one Western Hemisphere disease (syphilis) that went from the Americas to Europe. He claims that there were so few native diseases in this hemisphere because there were no large animals to domesticate.

The way Native Americans farmed, maintained forests, established orchards, etc. was so different from the European way that Europeans thought no one was doing anything productive with the land. To the contrary, they were affecting the land greatly but in ways that were more sustainable. Currently, he notes in the US forest management people have begun to recognize Native American forestry expertise and use it in many places.

Book 11 for 2026: “How literature saved my life”: David Shields


I only acquired this book because the author of “Delights”, Ross Gay, recommended it as one of his favorite books. I almost quit reading it but kept going because I wondered why he loved this book. Perhaps if you watch a lot of movies (I am not a movie person), it would be better because Shields critiques a lot of movies, almost none of which I had ever even heard of. He also seems to prefer non-fiction and critiques a lot of non-fiction essay writers. To be honest even though I read hundreds of books, most of the books he mentions I have never read. His taste apparently differs greatly from mine. I have read Joan Didion, John Cheever, Gertrude Stein, Yeats, as he has and I do agree with him about the essay, “Killing an Elephant”. In this essay George Orwell describes a horrible event he experienced as a young man while working for the British in Burma (now Myanmar). I agree with Shields that this essay describes better the horrors of colonialism and racism better than most books written on those subjects.

What bothers me about this work by Shields is the relentless negativity. I consider myself to be a rather realistic person, often perhaps too blunt for my own good. Nevertheless, I do not view my life or that of others as nearly as hopeless and lonely as Shields seems to view it. Here is a quote from near the end of the book:

“I believe in art as pathology lab, landfill, recycling station, death sentence, aborted suicide note, lunge at redemption. Your art is most alive and dangerous when you use it against yourself. That’s why I pick at my scabs” and four pages later at the end: “I wanted literature to assuage human loneliness, but nothing can assuage human loneliness. Literature doesn’t lie about this–which is what makes it essential.” I know lots of folks talk about the plague of loneliness permeating society these days. He focuses on this relentlessly for 207 pages. Do most people feel this awful a lot of the time? Am I naive? How did I escape it?

Delights–Three


There is nothing like meeting a goal while enjoying it to bring a sense of delight as well as accomplishment. I walk daily–today I arrived at day 707 without ever missing a day–looking at the flowers, visiting with all the other walkers. I live in a walking neighborhood with friendly walkers who at a minimum wave. Some stop to chat and some check on me if they have not seen me out walking in a while because of the different routes we take or different times we walk. One particular person who checks on me taught me how to make some of her native food–India. Another lady several blocks away prefers to walk with others, not alone, so if she sees me out, we join together in the company of her little dog, June, whom I have never seen actually walking. June rides in a baby carriage.

Now, as I write this, I’m enjoying another late afternoon of delight in my backyard. The hibiscus is full of ruby flowers. Freeway daisies, bright white and purple, pop up everywhere. Four different colors of bougainvillea sport their joy. One nasturtium–they are popping in places I never even planted–is sporting the same color of ruby as the hibiscus. The lemon tree is full of almost ripe lemons some of which I have promised to friends and neighbors. One woman cannot eat all these lemons. Meanwhile, I listen to different birds singing their varied songs and to the gurgle of the water fountain by the Nile Blue French doors and watch the hummingbird who is watching me.

I feel grateful to be surrounded in beauty and quiet joy.

Book Six for 2026: “THE BOOK OF (MORE) DELIGHTS,” Ross Gay


As I mentioned in a previous post, his books on delights were mentioned to me by two different people in two totally different settings so I decided to stay sane in all the seriousness of my life, reading something lighter might be a good thing to do. I guess I was thinking delights like flowers, food, etc. but this is more like a series of short essays about life all written in the span of one year–his gardening, experiences strolling around his neighborhood and favorite coffee shops, food, his parents, his wife, some personal history, his experience as a college professor, children. However, he also addresses serious issues–his meeting a homeless veteran just out from a stint in a mental facility and how he was compelled to help out after first driving off, racism he has experienced, his issues with the government and social media, family death, and life in general. And above all, what it means to him to identify as a poet.

Delight 1- A Testosterone Story


After reading two intense, serious books, one fiction and one non-fiction, I needed a break. Several friends and acquaintances recently told me about Ross Gay’s delight books so I went to the local library and asked them to request his latest, “The Book of (More) Delights”. I had my doubts after reading the first few entries, but kept going and then #10 “Alright Baby” made me laugh out loud as well as recall an incident in a high school class I taught years ago.

Gay’s 2.5 page entry is about testicles, yes, testicles. He tells about a couple of young guys who think they are not stuff challenging him and his friend (they are in their 40s) to basketball. The two 20 somethings were doing their best to prove what Gay calls their manhood. As Gay relates the incident, he jokes about maleness and testicles and how testicles control a lot of what men do. I had to laugh. The two old guys won by the way.

This mere 2.5 page story made me remember a class of teenagers I taught from years ago. I do not even recall what caused whatever was going on in class, but one male student suddenly shouted, “There’s too much testosterone in this room!” Everyone laughed. Thereafter every time any sort of commotion, even if piddly, occurred, everyone shouted, “There’s too much testosterone in this room!”

Book Five for 2026: “One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This”, Omar El Akkad


“What are you willing to give up to alleviate someone else’s suffering?”

This book won the National Book Award for Non-fiction in 2025. I started reading it before book four but had to take a break. It is very serious and details a lot of dreadful recent and not so recent history. The author discusses in detail the gap between Western ideals and the reality the West enacts using examples from Gaza, his stint as a journalist in Afghanistan and other war torn places. He notes the betrayals of free speech, the betrayals of indigenous people, the betrayals of people of African descent. Some parts talk about reckoning and questions whether such will occur, who will remember, and will it matter and to whom.

El Akkad was born in Egypt, but grew up in Qatar and Canada as the family followed wherever his father was able to find work. He now lives in the US and states his current home is his 17th or 18th. His family had to move so much he remains uncertain.

This is a serious read for people who want to think about what has occurred in the last 20-30 years, what is occurring presently, and how all this will affect the future.

A Surprising Find at the Library


Two days ago I drove to the local library to return “The Historian” and inquire about a book an acquaintance had recommended. The library houses a used book section at its front hall entrance. I usually only glance at it because mostly it contains books in which I have zero interest. I glanced once again. There in nonfiction I saw NERUDA painted in big, bold bright colors-blue, red, green, purple–across the top half of a book cover. Just below this was a parade of flowers marching across the middle of the cover in the same bold, bright colors. Finally, at the bottom painted in bright red on a black background in capital letters it read, “MEMOIRS.” Inside the O is printed in the same red these words,”confieso que he vivido.” I snatched it up. The little sign said 25 cents. Although I’ve read Neruda poems mostly translated into English, I had no idea he had written anything about his own life. I knew I had to read this. I knew some things about his fascinating life. I wanted to know more. I dug around in my wallet, found a quarter, and deposited in the little brown box one of the librarians had indicated.

Later at home, I read the beginning, his brief introduction, explaining there are gaps here and there. He also explains, “What the memoir writer remembers is not the same as what the poet remembers.” He goes on to explain this. I will need to contemplate this more. Then in the beginning of the first chapter, “The Country Boy”, he describes “The Chilean Forest”. It starts, “Under the volcanoes, beside the snow-capped mountains, among the huge lakes, the fragrant, the silent, the tangled Chilean forest…” What continues is a prose poem describing this forest with intense sensory detail so clear the reader can see the details, the mystery, the lushness. He ends with this poem with the words, “Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest does not know this planet. I have come out of this landscape, that mud, that silence to roam, to go singing through the world.” Reading this beginning instantly linked me to his poetry I had read, to its sensory detail, to its lyricism.

They say we are all products of the environment in which we grew up whether we like it or not. Reading this is making me view this truism in a new light.

In Defense of Young People


Recently, at a party I attended, someone claimed young people these days are lazy, don’t want to work, feel entitled. Sometimes I can keep my mouth shut, just listen, and disagree inside. Not this time. When I hear comments like this about young people, comments with which I vehemently disagree whether it is in person or on social media, I feel compelled to speak up.

During at least half the year, I spend one day a week at an inner city high school. Granted the students I work with are high achieving, students who are the opposite of lazy, some almost to the extreme. When I mentioned this, the person said, “Well this is because they are recent immigrants.” In most of these cases at this school, that is true. Then I explained that I had taught more than 20 years at two Title I high schools where nearly no one was a recent immigrant. Of course, like throughout history, there are some lazy young people. That, however, does not describe the majority. I’ve had homeless students who took the hardest dual credit classes and prevailed. I’ve had students who spent extra time at school because it was safer than being home. I’ve had students whose parents were in jail or drug addicts but still made it to school, did the required work, and graduated. I’ve had students struggling with mental health issues but no matter what managed to do the work required.

Reasons to be lazy abound. Reasons to feel hopeless about the future abound. Look at the present economy, look at the wage cap between the rich and poor, look at how many struggle to find a decent job. Young people are aware of all this, acutely aware. Yet most do the work required and press on no matter what.

I applaud them!

Essence Objects


While reading the novel “Landscapes” this afternoon, this passage struck me: a man, recently blind, explains, “I rely on my other senses. I get by. But in another way I’m not sure I ever knew where I was headed, not even when I had eyesight, you know what I mean? I doubt anyone really knows where they’re going. But you walk ahead anyways, no?”

This caused me to reflect on a video I saw earlier in the day at Mendez High School where I work for College Match LA. The purpose of the video was to help students address what they will write about in their college essays, how they will write about themselves. It’s called “Essence Objects”. The task is to think about various objects you would put in a box, objects that represent how you see certain things or people, how you think. Here are some examples:

  • What object reminds you of your mother?
  • What object represents your favorite piece of music?
  • What object reminds you of a fear you have?
  • What object would you choose to illustrate your favorite book?
  • What object would a friend associate with you?

The list goes on and on, thought provoking questions. I don’t have to write a college essay but I’m going to go over the whole list and think and think and think.

Note: I picked this photo because the objects that make me think of my mother are roses. She had a rose garden in front of the barn on our Missouri farm. All summer when the roses were blooming, she floated roses in a glass bowl on the kitchen table where we ate.

The Angel


Can you call yourself a creative writer if you have not written a word in months? I have a friend who promotes 20 minutes of writing per day, telling people to just write, forget quality, just write. Really?! I care about quality. Perhaps too much? I make sure to read quality writing 99.99% of the time. Is this just words I am writing here or is it quality or garbage? You tell me!

One thing I can do is read. I’m good at reading. And singing. And gardening. I talk to plants; that’s why they grow for me. I truly care. They bring me peace and joy.

In the last two months, I’ve read three collections of short stories, two by Anthony Doerr and one by Gayle Jones. Normally, I am not a short story reader, but here I am reading these. Talk about different. It’s almost like these two famous writers inhabit different planets. Doerr’s stories seem intensely emotional, often a bit fantastical and heart wrenching with a lush, descriptive, poetic style even though Doerr is not a published poet. Jones is a published poet, yet her stories are blunt, conversational, often first person and sometimes short–one page short.

In many, a character is telling his or her (most of the stories are her) story about where they are, some experience, somebody they knew, what they did or said. In one story the narrator says she’s an angel, explains where she’s been, whom she’s known, and ends up by asking readers if they’ve seen her near the Seine. I doubt anyone mistakes me for an angel.

Note: Book 13 for 2025 is “Butter”, Gayle Jones. A collection of short stories.