Creation Nation features the work of Native American beginning writers who have worked with Heid Erdrich in workshops and residencies in Minnesota, North Dakota, Wisconsin and South Dakota. Erdrich's Creative Writing students at The University of St. Thomas edit and post final selections for this on-line magazine.

Thursday, May 13, 2004

Mark Turcotte

Here is a link to a biography of the port Mark Turcotte. Also available at this site is a list of selected online works.

Photo is from the Site on Mark Turcotte

English 112-36, University of St. Thomas
Group 3: Nick, Jessica, Brooke, Lindsay and Mairzy

Allison Hedge Coke


Information about Allison Hedge Coke can be found by clicking here. Links to selected online works are also available on this site.

Photo is from the site on Allison Hedge Coke

English 112-36, University of St. Thomas

Group 3: Nick, Brooke, Jessica, Lindsay, Mairzy

Wednesday, May 12, 2004

Writings By Native American Youth

Father Wolf
Tara Hueston

Father wolf.
Savage father.
Once bear me your heart,
Not your teeth.
Does the hate consume you?
Oh daemon of light?
Oh angel of darkness?
The hunter of the night?

Do you hate those who kill?
Who kill to make themselves feel strong?
Do they take away what you love,
Oh father, savage father?
Do you mourn those with children,
Clutched in their arms,
Eyes of glass staring?
Is it reflected in your amber fire?
Are you their mother, father, brother, son,
Who feel the warmth trickle between fingers,
Like wine, staining snow the color of sunset.
Did you too suffer?

Oh savage father,
Do you feel as they feel?
And hope to fill your hate?
And hope to lift the stones upon your dark soul?
So you may not drown,
In a sea of blood?
Will you strike down the wicked?
Are they wicked?
Do the wicked kill others who love and hate,
Because it is the curse of the slain,
They were born different?
Do they know,
It is not the fault of the victim?
Or are they prey to their own ignorance?
Are they wicked?

Oh father, savage father,
Why does the sorrow burn in your eyes,

A fire that cannot be extinguished with a sea?
And do you take those in pain,
Mother, sister, brother, friend,
Under wings of shadow?
Your shadow?
Do you see yourself in their eyes?
In their tears you cannot shed?
Hunter of the night,
Is your love savage?
Can the teeth of crystal be gentle too?
If you could stop the pain,
If you could wear a crown of thorns,
And let rivers of red,
Run down,
Would you let your heart cease to beat,
A drum in the dark?

Would you run,
Run until your heart bursts,
Darkness rushing to meet the air?
Would you kill with hate in your soul?
The taste of tears in your maw?
Blood in your vision,
Red as the dawn?
Savage father,
Will you take all those you hate?
One at a time?
Or will you fall,
Mad and bleeding,
From a thousand wounds,
Mirror to those in your heart?

Savage father,
Before you fall to darkness,
Will you not let me,
Clutch you to my heart?
And feel your fur,
Soft as silk,
Coarse as linen,
Clutched between my fingers?
Will I hear your voice and breath?
Will I feel not your teeth?
Oh father, savage father,
Father wolf.


Writings By Incarcerated Youth


The lonely black trash bag
Seems lost
Filled with dirty trash
Wonder how it got there?
Its absorbing sunlight
Day after day
Getting weathered.

The lonely black trash bag
Seems lost
It needs a friend
Someone needs to dispose of it
In the proper place
It isn’t right
Just sitting there
Absorbing the sun, weathering
The black trash bag is no more
Than a bag for trash.


A strong spirit
Power hidden in a sun bear form
taking pride in her cubs
protecting them from the cruelties of earth
guiding us, as we climb our life-trees
struggling over boughs and braches
as you teach us to learn from our mistakes
Hard Times
Life gets hard at times, which causes struggles. It’s hard to carry on in life, when you think no one loves you.

My father was locked up in the penitentiary and my mother was never home. I have three sisters and a nephew, we all shared three things in common. We were poor, broke, and hungry.

We had to use the stove to heat up the house. what We so-called home. While rich people were drinking out of wine glasses, we got to drink out of jelly jars. No food to put on our plates, probably because we ate out of bowls.

Lucky charms are what we ate, but they weren’t magically delicious. Infested with roaches, that came out of the crevasses in the walls, running around our kitchen.
That’s the life that we lived, I had to learn to survive. It’s all trials and tribulations, which led to hard times.

I was told not to dwell on my past, but that’s all I can think of. Gangs in our community, people dying all the time. Over money and drugs, which I didn’t think too much of. I only did what I saw, there’s nothing wrong with that. So I did what I know, to earn my living in the game. By the way that this next generation is going, nothings ever going to change.

The Lesson

Society is a vampire
That will drain you of hope
Then push you to suicide
And toss you the rope.

Enjoy your life
You who don’t know
I guess you’ll find out
You’re in for a show.

I know what its like
I’ve been with the worst
And watched them depart
In the back of a hearse.

So when you’re alone
And there’s no one to care
That’s when you’ll realize
That life is not fair.


Creative Writing links

Don’t know where to start writing? Try some of these ideas.

Tons of information about generating ideas, basic structures, plots, etc.

These links have tons more ideas to help you get started writing.

Some fun exercises to help you work with words. Mad lib exercises asking for different parts of grammar, which are then put into a story.

All of the following links should offer assistance to writers, with creative writing or anything relevant to the process.

UST Center for Writing:
University of North Carolina:
O.W.L. Online Writing Lab: — A membership is required, but it should be free

Webster’s Dictionary — for spelling or thesaurus

Writer’s Digest—all kinds of information about writing

Online magazine for fiction writers—helpful articles about writing

Monday, May 03, 2004