I think back to when Oprah Winfrey promoted James Frey’s memoir, only for it to turn out to be fabricated. Or more aptly, you might recall Nasdijj, who claimed to be a Navajo author writing about reservation life, only to be revealed as a white man.

That’s not me. I’m third-generation American, with roots in Finland and Eastern Europe, but I don’t identify myself with hyphens. I’m not Finnish-American. I’m American. Like anyone else, I didn’t choose where I was born or the systems I live within.

I’m not trying to be someone I’m not, and I have no desire to be anyone else through false representation.

The idea for Under the Sunflowers began 25 years ago, and early on it took shape as a novel set in South Dakota about two Lakota sisters. I’ll write more about how that creative process evolved another time. But as I researched and wrote, I came to understand the ongoing needs in Native communities, particularly among the Lakota, whose history and resilience deserve far more support than they often receive.

Tying this novel to charity became a natural extension of that understanding. So, here I am.