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A Native American Time Travel Young Adult Historical - an Editorial Review of "First Rights"

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Book Blurb:


Historical fiction for young adults.


Book Buy Link: https://geni.us/V5r7e


Editorial Review:


Title: First Rights

Author: Jason Ray

Rating: 4.0 Stars


Jason Ray’s "First Rights" is a gripping read that begins as like a simple young adult time-travel adventure but quickly deepens into something more haunting and personal. It’s the story of Logan, a modern fourteen-year-old who’s yanked out of his own world and dropped into one of the most volatile moments in Native American history. What starts as curiosity- his fascination with the Shawnee brothers Tecumseh and Tenskwatawa- turns, almost before he realizes it, into survival. History stops being a subject for him and becomes a place that can hurt, demand, and change him.


The hook lands early. On a family camping trip to Prophetstown State Park in Indiana, Logan dozes by the river and wakes up to another century. The air feels different, heavier, and before he can process it, he’s running for his life:


“Suddenly, he glimpsed two people riding horses. They might have my things! Logan’s pulse quickened as he took off running towards them, darting between trees and hopping over fallen logs. While he ran, he shouted to get their attention. The riders paused and looked through the branches at him... The second rider grabbed an arrow from a quiver on his back, loaded it into a bow, and fired it. The arrow whizzed past Logan and became embedded in the ground beside him. Logan’s jaw dropped. He glared at the two riders. ‘What kind of twisted game are you guys playing?’ he yelled. ‘You could’ve hurt me!’”


Here, Ray captures a chase with almost cinematic tension. The grammar is simple, direct, and rhythmic and is mostly made up of short independent clauses connected by commas or transitional phrases (“darting between trees and hopping over fallen logs”). Verbs dominate the paragraph: glimpsed, took off, shouted, paused, grabbed, fired, whizzed, embedded an while each one is active and vivid, they give the writing a physical pulse. The structure here builds in stages, almost like beats in a film sequence. Each sentence tightens the focus, moving from a wide view (seeing riders in the distance) to an intimate one (the arrow hitting the ground near him). Ray also uses modern speech and rhythm to keep it relatable (“What kind of twisted game are you guys playing?”) This sounds like something a teenager would blurt out and reminds the reader that he’s still anchored in a modern mindset, even as the situation pulls him into something older and more dangerous.


 “Tecumseh withdrew a knife from his waistband. He showed it to Logan. ‘Tell me! Or I will cut off one of your ears.’ Logan knew he had to tell the tribal leader something. I certainly can’t tell him I’ve traveled back in time. He’ll think I’m cursed and kill me. ‘They’re hoping you’ll make the first move,’ he blurted out. ‘They plan to use any provocation as an excuse to destroy your whole village.’”


Captured here is an unnervingly quiet scene, all edge and breath. You can feel Logan’s heartbeat in the gaps between Tecumseh’s words, his thoughts stumbling over each other. The grammar is tight, direct and action-focused, using mostly simple sentences and active verbs to build tension. “Tecumseh withdrew a knife from his waistband. He showed it to Logan.” These are short, declarative sentences that give the moment a blunt, staccato rhythm. The dialogue here is grammatically clean and realistic which reinforces the feeling of danger. The reader experiences both the external immediacy of danger and the internal chaos of a mind racing for survival.


“‘Mr. Beckes has been kind enough to donate some whiskey for the Wea delegation. The natives can’t resist alcohol, and it makes them less difficult to deal with during negotiations.’ Mr. Beckes laughed. Logan struggled to hide his repulsion. Tecumseh was right. The Americans are using alcohol to get the tribal chiefs all liquored up, so they’ll be less resistant.”


Ray doesn’t underline the message, rather, he simply lets the ugliness hang there. You can readily feel Logan’s stomach turn. The grammar here is clean and declarative, with little ornamentation. Then the line “The natives can’t resist alcohol, and it makes them less difficult to deal with during negotiations.” uses a compound sentence joined by ‘and’, balancing two ideas -prejudice and manipulation - as if they were ordinary facts. Grammatically, that balance is chilling because it normalizes exploitation through the rhythm of ordinary speech. The internal thought “Tecumseh was right…” breaks into first-person immediacy, contrasting sharply with the detached narration. Here, the grammar shifts from external observation to personal conviction, making his realization hit harder. The grammar’s simplicity and the structure’s precision make the moment feel disturbingly casual which is exactly the point. The author doesn’t dramatize the injustice, instead, the calm tone exposes how normalized exploitation has become.


By the final chapters, "First Rights" stops being only a survival story and becomes an invitation to stand inside history and see it without the comfort of distance. Ray writes with empathy and grit and his sentences carry the texture of dirt, sweat, and fear as well also the small light of conscience. He makes the past feel alive in a way that’s unsettling. "First Rights" is undoubtedly sharp, emotionally raw, and deeply human. It’s not just about traveling through time; it’s about waking up to what time still holds and how much it asks of those willing to look closely.


To have your historical novel editorially reviewed and/or enter the HFC Book of the Year contest, please visit www.thehistoricalfictioncompany.com/book-awards/award-submission

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