conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Lakota, Jimmy, Crazy with the genre: Children's Books, Growing Up & Facts of Life?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'In the Footsteps of Crazy Horse'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In the Footsteps of Crazy Horse
  The river cut through the valley below the town of Cold River. Cold River was on the northern edge of the Rosebud Sioux Indian Reservation in South Dakota. Jimmy lived with his parents in a modular house on the east side. That was okay. But it was not okay that he lived two blocks from Cold River Public School. He hated school. Corky Brin and Jesse Little Horse were two of the reasons. Maybe they were the only reasons. No, he didn't like math, or PE, either. In PE he had to hold hands with a girl. It was a game everyone had to play. But holding hands with a girl—that was embarrassing.
  Corky teased him about it, and so did Jesse. Corky was white, and Jesse was Lakota. They didn't like each other, but they seemed to bond over teasing Jimmy.
  Jimmy had blue eyes and light-brown hair. Other Lakota children had black hair, brown skin, and brown eyes. They had family names like Little Horse, Turning Bear, Bissonette, or Black Wolf. This was another reason for Corky and Jesse to tease him.
  McClean was a white name. It was his other grandfather's name, a man he had never met. Angus McClean was his dad's dad. His mom was Anne, and her last name was High Eagle. But now she was Anne McClean. Jimmy's dad was James McLean Sr. No one called him Jimmy. James Sr. was half Lakota and half white. His hair was dark brown and his skin was a bit lighter than most Lakota people's, but his eyes were brown. Jimmy was James McClean Jr.
  His dad's mom was Madeline Bear, from the Pine Ridge Reservation, in the western part of the state. It all meant—as his mom explained—that three parts of Jimmy were Lakota and one part was white. That part was Scottish, to be exact.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Jimmy could understand why Crazy Horse loved this place. In his mind's eye he could see lodges in the meadow on the other side.
  Grandpa Nyles said sadly, "But they lost that little girl. She got sick with a disease called cholera. She died from it, and she was only four years old."
  Jimmy looked across the river. There were birds flying and landing in low willow shrubs. Nearby, insects were buzzing. "I guess even tough guys cry, huh, Grandpa?"
  Grandpa Nyles nodded, glancing down at his grandson. "Yeah. When things like that happen, like to your dad and Crazy Horse, it's okay for tough guys to cry. Don't you ever forget that."
  Jimmy knew about the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Grandpa Nyles talked about it a lot. But he hadn't talked much about what happened after the battle.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last three paragraphs. End with the sentence '
  I hope you enjoyed this story, but chances are you probably did not enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Each time I start the process and finish a bow and a set of arrows, and each time I shoot a primitive-style Lakota bow and arrows that I have crafted with my own hands, I cannot help but think of my hero. The simple and profound reality is that he made bows and arrows and used them.
  For us Lakota who are aware of our history, stories are a way to pass that history on, and to remember our heroes. Shooting a Lakota bow is another way that works for me.
  I hope you enjoyed this story, but chances are you probably did not enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.