"McLeod reflects on his adulthood as a queer, Cree man working to improve life for other Native people in Canada in his moving latest . . . The result is a heartwrenching meditation on love, loss, and identity." --Publishers Weekly

"A former teacher with extensive training in French and a natural politician, McLeod quickly fell into a succession of roles involving the negotiation and renegotiation of treaties. Particularly newsworthy are his investigations over a long period of Native children victimized by the residential school system, forcing a pro forma apology on the part of the Canadian government that acknowledged 'that the existence of the schools was profoundly disrespectful of Aboriginal people.' Every such acknowledgment, every line of every treaty, came at the cost of considerable legal, linguistic, and cultural wrangling . . . Sheds welcome light on little-known aspects of the interaction of Indigenous peoples with politically dominant outsiders." --Kirkus Reviews

"[Peyakow] presents the Native experience in raw vignettes from the life of the author--the lowest lows and the highest highs . . . In a blend of drama, tragedy, and comedy, Peyakow is an epic tale of one man's journey to find his culture and to help his people. For anyone interested in how a Native person navigates through current day Canada, this book is rich with personal experience and wisdom." --Alberta Native News

"Darrel J. McLeod's Peyakow takes the reader on his personal odyssey and reveals the history of a country with a dark colonial mindset regarding Aboriginal people . . . Peyakow is a page turner. Take the time to read and understand the history of Indigenous people in Canada through books such as this." --ABC BookWorld (Canada)

"Peyakow is an autobiographical continuation of Darrel J. McLeod's life that follows his raw debut memoir of growing up, Mamaskatch. In this one, McLeod focuses a lot on his time working in branches of Canadian Government, often an emotionally taxing job; many of the white folks in government have varying degrees of racism against First Nations citizens, particularly directed at anyone seeking compensation and acknowledgment of the cultural genocide that severely impacted nations across the continent. Meanwhile, many Indigenous people attempting to work with the Canadian government on these issues see McLeod as 'working for the enemy' . . . and after seeing how some politicians act behind the scenes, McLeod can't help but wonder if sometimes they were right. This book is more than just politics, though--Peyakow, 'the one who walks alone, ' is also an ongoing history of family ties as well as trauma, the complexities that come with it, and McLeod's continuing personal journey of connecting with his Cree heritage, and combining it with his identity as a gay man. McLeod's work both as an activist and as a writer is incredibly impactful, and the life he's lived certainly hasn't been easy. Peyakow leaves the reader with a lot learned, and a lot to think about. Unflinching, honest, and powerful." --Andrew King, Secret Garden Bookshop

Praise for Mamaskatch

"Mamaskatch dares to immerse readers in provocative contemporary issues including gender fluidity, familial violence, and transcultural hybridity. A fast-moving, intimate memoir of dreams and nightmares--lyrical and gritty, raw and vulnerable, told without pity, but with phoenix-like strength."--Jury Citation, Governor General's Literary Award for Nonfiction

"Mamaskatch reminded me of my childhood and the Indigenous people I love dearly. The hard and brilliant life breathing on the pages brought me to tears, to joy, and to grace. Darrel J. McLeod tells a coming-of-age tale familiar to many Indigenous people, but our histories, and our families' truths, are mostly unwritten. The work he's doing is powerful and overdue."--Terese Marie Mailhot, author of Heart Berries

"A haunting and joyful ode to the resilience of an often complicated, always extraordinary mother. Intimate and affecting, Mamaskatch asks complex questions about the legacies we inherit and the way in which self-invention is a crucial act of survival."--Esi Edugyan, author of Washington Black

"Affecting and full of heart . . . Through these fragmented stories, we see McLeod navigating conflicting desires within his sexual, spiritual, and native identities, and ultimately thriving."--BuzzFeed

"A dark book, but a hopeful one too, as McLeod finds ways of understanding and coming to terms with his complicated life . . . McLeod tells [his story] movingly and beautifully."--Book Riot

"Honestly stunning. McLeod's clear writing lays bare his complicated ties to his family, his lovers and his country in a memoir that moved and haunted me."--Eden Robinson, author of Son of a Trickster

"A heart-wrenching mîwâsin memoir full of vignettes that are so intricately woven that they guide you through with grace, sâkihiwêwin, humour, and maskihkîy. This is a narrative built through continuums that detail the lives of the McLeod family through their queer travails, trans realities, bannock and stew conversations, and a plethora of intergenerational traumas and triumphs. I can feel the warm embrace of the Three Sisters wrapping around me as I read this, that heart-drum beat resounding beneath its literary cadences, the frigidity of the Athabasca kissing my heels, and a narrator who teaches me from his very first passage in this memoir that a good story is a medicine song that re-members and re-animates, in true nehiyawewin fashion, those who have paved the way for us and those for whom we pave."--Joshua Whitehead, author of Jonny Appleseed

"McLeod's memoir is one that will get under your skin for so many reasons, and then live there. The horrors of residential schools, the complications of being Indigenous in a world that wishes we would go away, and family ties that stretch to the point of breaking in almost every way imaginable, not to mention struggles with identity and sexuality. It may sound like too much for one narrative to support, but McLeod handles it with the light, magical touch of a born storyteller. This story is one you won't soon forget. Heartbreaking, uplifting, terrifying . . . yes, all these things, and more."--Chris La Tray, Fact & Fiction

"Mamaskatch is no easy read, but it's an absolutely necessary one. McLeod recounts snapshots throughout his life, including his mother's alcoholism, numerous accounts of sexual abuse, and coming up gay in a colonized Canada, where the whites have attempted to convert Natives to Catholicism. Mamaskatch is a very personal memoir that also documents the long-lasting aftermath of what colonization has done to Native communities. This book will break your heart, and it will make you think about a lot of things in North American history that need to be brought to light. Essential."--Andrew King, University Book Store

"The poignant reflections of a Cree family in 20th century Canada, Mamaskatch is one of the best memoirs I've experienced! Filled with the questioning and self-doubts of a child suffering abuse after abuse from abuser after abuser, McLeod's prose exposes the strength of someone who has survived: 'Mamaskatch! We're free!'"--Randy Schiller, Left Bank Books