OH MAN it crushes my poor cold heart to sand to have to tell you this, because I used to borrow this book from the library over and over and over when I was in fifth grade and it’s one of the things that really made me like books so goddam much, but it’s just all about like “Native American people are mysterious and magical,” which is not an okay theme. So sad! I was so stoked when I found it in a little used bookstore in Kokomo Indiana, because when I was little I think I just thought Laurie Stratton was so grown up- she called her siblings “the children” and her mother “Mother,” and had a boyfriend, and learned to astrally project herself long distances- but man, what a downer, to be like “I can do magic shit because I’m secretly a Navajo alien or something.” Um, spoiler
(this review is from my old goodreads account)
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