Montana Festival of the Book

My encounter with Camille, the Clark City Press baby, was unquestionably the most delightful of this particular conference . . .

. . . but she did have competition.

Well, not precisely.  Other encounters were pleasant, thought-provoking, informative, and fun -- but Camille would be pretty much unmatched in the delight category.

On Friday morning I attended the panel titled: Who Tells the Tale? Cultural Issues in Writing about Native Americans, with Dorothy Patent, Curly Bear Wagner, and our own Montana blogger, Mary Scriver. The panel was moderated by poet Vic Charlo. I took notes (as I did at the other two events I attended) but I keep putting off this post in order to include them -- and decided I need to just post.

Briefly, this panel had a lot to offer, but little on the subject I was anticipating -- who owns what stories; who can tell or write these stories; what are the implications of white writers telling stories from cultures not their own? Are the implications any different than they are for any writer tackling stories/ subjects/ cultures/ characters that are not their own?

This was a polite group, with some history among them, I believe -- and Mary was the one most willing to tackle the politically loaded issues. No surprise to those of us who read her blog.

Then she and I went to lunch, to get acquainted -- two cranky past the midlife divide white women, are we. She gave me a copy of her book, Twelve Blackfeet Stories, which I am embarrassed to say I have not yet even opened.

But I will.

Later that day I went to Kiss Tomorrow Hello: Women Writing from the Other Side of the Midlife Divide, with Claire Davis, Annick Smith, and Mary Clearman Blew. I stayed for the reading, only, then staggered home to sleep. This would be a good book to own, by the way. Lovely, powerful writing.

Confession: For many years I have wanted to be Annick Smith when I grow up. A slight case of heroine worship.

I think I'll save the poetry panel for another post -- but let me bring this one back to the beginning. Click the image below to go to Clark City Press. A wonderful list. A skilled and prolific artist. My hometown. A beautiful child. How can you lose?

I almost forgot -- one more thing I wanted to share. As Mary and I were hugging goodbye, she noticed a woman trying to squeeze past us. Mary said "We must move or hug this woman" and we stepped apart to let her pass, which she did. Then she paused, turned, opened her arms and said "What a good idea!"

And so we three strangers blocked the passageway with our pleased Montana hug.

UPDATE: Mary responds, on her blog, to the question Who Tells the Tale?