Being Indian Is Not Blood As Much

Thoughts, And Words That Spring From Them, Bend The Individual's Reality. To Speak Of Death Is To Invite It. To Think Of Sorrow Is To Produce It.

An Author Knows His Landscape Best; He Can Stand Around, Smell The Wind, Get A Feel For His Place.

Everything Is Connected. The Wing Of The Corn Beetle Affects The Direction Of The Wind, The Way The Sand Drifts, The Way The Light Reflects Into The Eye Of Man Beholding His Reality. All Is Part Of Totality, And In This Totality Man Finds His Hozro, His Way Of Walking In Harmony, With Beauty All Around Him.

Although I Wasnt Able To Get A Visa For Vietnam, I Was Able To Talk With Swift Boat Veterans To Get A Feel For The Time And Place, And I Visited A Tropical Prison In The Philippines To Get A Sense Of What A Vietnamese Prison Might Have Been Like.

I Always Have One Or Two, Sometimes More, Navajo Or Other Tribes' Cultural Elements In Mind When I Start A Plot. In Thief Of Time, I Wanted To Make Readers Aware Of Navajo Attitude Toward The Dead, Respect For Burial Sites.