They Called Me 33

Karen longed for acceptance, validation and love, but had no ability to form healthy, meaningful relationships. Born into a large family already suffering the effects of two generations of residential school, and surviving her own nine years at St. Margaret Indian Residential School, Karen (like everyone she knew) had been systematically stripped of her dignity, identity, language, culture, family and community support systems. Not wanting to be alone as an adult, Karen tolerated unhealthy relationships with family and partners. Still, she was coping. But after suffering further trauma, Karen turned to alcohol and other addictions to numb her pain. Eventually, Karen found the strength to reach out for help. She learned to grieve through layers of shame and was finally able to embrace her identity. Karen also discovered what has long been known in her culture - the healing power of sharing your story. Karen would now like to share this book, her story, with you.

Karen longed for acceptance, validation and love, but had no ability to form healthy, meaningful relationships. Born into a large family already suffering the effects of two generations of residential school, and surviving her own nine years at St. Margaret Indian Residential School, Karen (like everyone she knew) had been systematically stripped of her dignity, identity, language, culture, family and community support systems. Not wanting to be alone as an adult, Karen tolerated unhealthy relationships with family and partners. Still, she was coping. But after suffering further trauma, Karen turned to alcohol and other addictions to numb her pain. Eventually, Karen found the strength to reach out for help. She learned to grieve through layers of shame and was finally able to embrace her identity. Karen also discovered what has long been known in her culture - the healing power of sharing your story. Karen would now like to share this book, her story, with you.

I've divorced better men than you. And worn more expensive shoes than these. So don't think placing this ad is the biggest comedown I've ever had to make. Sensitive F, 34. Employed in publishing? Me too. Stay the hell away. Man on the inside seeks woman on the outside who likes milling around hospitals guessing the illnesses of out-patients. 30-35. Leeds. They Call Me Naughty Lola is a testament to the creativity and humor that can still be found among men and women longing for love and allergic to the concepts of Internet and speed dating. Here is an irresistible collection of the most brilliant and often absurd personal ads from the world's funniest -- and most erudite -- lonely-hearts column. The ads have been called "surreal haikus of the heart," and in an age of false advertising, the men and women who write them are hindered neither by high expectations nor by positivism of any kind. And yet, while hopes of finding a suitable mate remain low, the column has produced a handful of marriages, many friendships, and at least one divorce. Here are the young, old, fat, bald, healthy, ill, rich, and poor hoping that they can find true love, or at the very least, someone to call them Naughty Lola.

Set during Prohibition this is one of Buffalo, New York's most blood-soaked crime tales. This is the story of the bloody reign of Polish gangster John "Korney" Kwiatkowski, which ended with one of his friends in the electric chair. Before the end came, Korney masterminded robberies all over the city, leading a gang of violent thugs, dubbed the Korney Gang, while he maintained a facade of gentility. With names like Ziggy, Bolly, and Smithy, these bootleggers, murderers, and robbers introduced Buffalo to violent crime with the introduction of the machine gun. No one was safe, including law enforcement, as the Korney Gang blasted their way out of every incident. Through careful research of newspapers, court transcripts, and genealogy, the story of this gang slowly emerges.

Sara Richardson, a middle-aged clergyman’s wife, wakes up one morning with the thought that something out of the ordinary was going to happen. As she carried her coffee into the family room, the thought from earlier almost made her spill her coffee. She was told to go to the window near the front door, and look out. Not wanting to disobey what she thought might be a message from God, she does what it asked. The spot nearest the door was still in the shadows. As her eyes adjusted, she made out what appeared to be a body lying just feet from her door. Not believing what she saw, she closed her eyes then looked again. Sure enough, there was a body! It was an old woman, lying face down, her long white hair spread around her face. Who was this old woman and what was she doing on Sara’s front lawn? Was she alive, or God forbid dead? Follow Sara’s journey as she takes a leap of faith into doing what God asked of her, with no questions asked.

Walter Littlemoon's memoir, They Called Me Uncivilized, is a call to awareness from within the heart of Wounded Knee. In telling his story, Littlemoon describes the impact federal Indian policies have had on his life and on the history of his family. He gives a rare view into the cruelty inflicted on generations of Native American children through the implementation of U.S. government boarding schools, which resulted in a muted truth, called Soul Wound by some. In addition, and for the first time, his narrative provides a resident's view of the 1973 militant Occupation of Wounded Knee and the lasting impact that takeover has had on his community. His path toward a sense of peace and contentment is one he hopes others will follow. Remembering and telling the truth about traumatic events are prerequisites for healing. Many books have been written by scholars describing one aspect or another of Native American life, their history, their spirituality, the 1973 occupation, and a few have tried to describe the boarding schools. None have connected the dots. Until the language of the everyday man is used, scholarly words will shut out the people they describe and the pathology created by federal Indian policy will continue.

In this autobiography, Reies López Tijerina, writes about his attempts to reclaim land grants, including his taking up arms against the authorities and spending time in the federal prison system. They Called Me "King Tiger" is Reies López Tijerinas visionary autobiography chronicling his activities during a tumultous period in U.S. History. Along with César Chávez, Rodolfo "Corky Gonzales, and José Ángel Gutiérrez, Reies López Tijerina was one of the acknowledged major leaders of the 1960s Mexican-American Civil Rights Movement. Of these four, Chávez and Tijerina were the most connected to, and involved in, grass-roots community organizing, while the latter two were more dedicated to political change. But where Chávez consistently advocated non-violent protest, López Tijerina increasingly turned to militancy. He and his followers even took up arms against the authorities. And of the four, Tijerina was the only one to spend significant time in prison for his acts. Tijerina is also the only member of this historical group to have penned his memoirs, perhaps in an effort to explain the trials and frustrations that brought him and his Federal Land Grant Alliance members to break the law: reclaiming part of a national forest reserve as part of their inheritance; invading and occupying a courthouse, inflicting a gunshot wound on a deputy sheriff in the process; and challenging New Mexico and national authorities at every opportunity. But the acts that placed him in most danger were also the ones that won the hearts and minds of many young Chicano activists. Originally self-published, They Called Me King Tiger is now published as part of the U.S. Hispanic Civil Rights Series. What is clear from López Tijerinas testimony is his sincerity, his years of research on the issues of land grants and civil rights, and his persistent spiritual and political leadership of the disenfranchised descendants of the original colonizers of New Mexico. All of the passion and commitment, as well as the flamboyant rhetoric of the 1960s, is preserved in this recollection of a life dedicated to a cause and transformed by continuous prosecution. They Called Me King Tiger is an historical document of the first order, clarifying the motives and thinking of one of the Chicano Movements now-forgotten martyrs - a man who sought justice for those who have been treated like foreigners on their own soil.

When Jordanian student Siwar Salaiha is murdered on her birthday in College Park, Maryland, her consciousness survives, finding refuge in the body of a Seattle baby boy. Stuck in this speech delayed three-year old body, Siwar tries but fails to communicate with Wyatt's parents, instead she focuses on solving the mystery behind her murder. Eventually, her consciousness goes into a dormant state after Wyatt undergoes a major medical procedure. Natasha Tynes had only recently sold her novel They Called Me Wyatt when she ran afoul of cancel culture for snitching on a rail worker who was breaking the rules by eating on a train. Look it up on Goodreads and—as of this writing—you’ll discover nearly 2,000 one-star ratings and over a thousand reviews—many, if not most of them, from people who give the book one star despite admitting they never read it, parroting the lie that “Natasha Tynes hates black women.” As a publisher myself, it’s personally distressing that a book’s reputation can be tanked by a horde of people who’ve never even seen the novel in question when so many authors struggle to generate even triple-digit reviews from people who’ve actually taken the time to sit down and read the book they’re reviewing. Tynes’ work suffered for her bad behavior—unjustly, unfairly, and unread. Almost two thousand negative reactions—when only a few hundred copies were even ordered, and when Tynes’ previous publisher stopped shipment on books after her tweet went viral. Tynes—again, a woman of color, mother of three, and immigrant to the United States with journalistic bylines under her belt in a variety of publications around the world—had her career ended before it began because the demons of outrage so decreed it. The problem is that They Called me Wyatt is a good book—a compelling, original thriller that, under other circumstances, would instead be praised for its unique and original voice, weaving together the stories and lives of people from a multitude of cultures and backgrounds for a one-of-a-kind espionage thriller. Tynes’ literary voice captures a woman caught between multiple worlds: first, as a teenage immigrant to the US, and then as an adult woman trapped in the body of a young boy after her murder results in reincarnation. Growing up with an identity not her own—and struggling with what her identity even is—Tynes’ protagonist goes on a journey fantastically reminiscent of so many immigrants to the United States who attempt to forge a new identity while remaining faithful to their own culture. All of this was lost, though, amidst the outrage. Readers were never given the opportunity to discover Tynes’ work on its own terms, to be judged on its own merits. Until now. I’ve decided to publish They Called Me Wyatt because I believe in second chances. Natasha Tynes has since apologized for her tweet and acknowledged her bad behavior. I respect that. I believe in forgiveness and growth. I believe that people can learn from their past mistakes and move beyond them. I do not believe in the one-and-done brutality of Twitter’s outrage police. I do not believe that one ignorant tweet should brand an individual forever and ruin their career. I do not believe an artist’s work should be judged on the basis of one act of stupidity on the part of its creator. That’s why, just like its protagonist, I’ve decided to reincarnate They Called me Wyatt as the first entry in the REBELLER literary imprint. REBELLER is about bucking the system—about seeing a good idea, being told it can’t be done, and doing it anyway. It’s about judging art on its merits and turning our backs on a Hollywood system and elitist mindset that would determine the worth—or worthlessness—of something based on arbitrary rules. It’s about remaining calm in the face of certain fury that will be leveled on us by those most insecure and apoplectic from our confidence in our convictions. It’s about something being dangerous and doing it anyway.