Under The Sunflowers
When the sunflowers face the sun who will face the darkness?
After Seal’s younger sister is taken from her during a haunted hayride, her world is shattered. A year later, she clings to her sister’s doll, a lasting link to what she has lost. But when the doll is nearly destroyed, strange forces awaken—leading Seal and her mischievous friend, Javin, on an adventure neither could imagine.
After a massive earthquake, Seal and Javin flee for their lives, only to find themselves in a world of darkness. There, the spirits of the Lakota stir, and creatures of legend, long thought to be myth, reveal themselves.
Haunted by visions and pursued by forces of ancient evil, Seal must uncover the truths buried in her heritage. What lies beneath the sunflowers? And if she faces the darkness alone, will she ever be the same?
Book FAQ
Why did you write this story?
It comes from both obsession and ignorance. Nearly 20 years ago, I heard about a tragic hayride accident in which a young girl was killed by a gunman. The idea stuck with me, and I couldn’t shake it. Over time, it evolved into the foundation of this book. Along the way, I found myself drawn to the depth and richness of Lakota culture, which became central to the story.
That explains the obsession—what about the ignorance?
There were many things I didn’t understand when I started. I knew nothing about the publishing industry. I didn’t consider the expectations of a book featuring eleven-year-olds. Most importantly, I didn’t fully grasp the weight of writing about Lakota culture as someone who isn’t Lakota. The more I learned, the more I respected the history, traditions, and worldview, but I also realized the responsibility that came with portraying it and I acknowledge that I have made mistakes, some if which I am still unaware.
When did you realize you had a problem?
Sitting in an airport, close to finishing the final draft. I had spent hundreds of hours revising and finally started researching how to get published. That’s when I realized: I hadn’t actually written a young adult novel, but a middle grade novel (more on that another time), and as an older white male writing about an eleven-year-old Lakota girl, I was stepping into sensitive territory.
Why didn’t you abandon the project?
Stubbornness—and belief. I believe I’ve written a compelling story with a positive message. I’ve lived with this story for 20 years, developing it, refining it, and loving it as the pieces came together. And the more I studied Lakota culture, the more I wanted to reflect its beauty and wisdom in a meaningful way.
What happened when you tried to find an agent?
Mostly silence and a few, “It’s not a project I can get behind.” The middle-grade market is highly competitive and currently prioritizes actual BIPOC and LGBTQ authors. A white male writing about a Lakota girl raised red flags. Agents receive thousands of submissions, and like a Tinder profile it only takes one red flag before they swipe left.
But maybe your writing just isn’t good?
That’s always possible. This is my first novel. But I didn’t take shortcuts—I revised it thoroughly like I would a short story, reading it at least two dozen times, cutting, rewriting, and using writing tools to eliminate weak spots like passive voice and adverb overuse. I’ve done everything I can to craft a novel that entertains, surprises, and resonates with readers.
How many agents rejected you, and why didn’t you quit?
Close to 80. And because I love this book too much to abandon it.
So you made the website to sell it?
No. If I can’t get it traditionally published, I don’t want to self-publish just to sell a handful of copies before it fades into obscurity. Instead, I want this book to serve a purpose—raising awareness and funds for a community in need. If it can help generate a few thousand dollars for a cause that matters, then that gives this story meaning beyond publication.
Book FAQ: Audience & Representation
Who is the audience for this novel?
Since my main characters are 11 years old, this qualifies as a middle-grade novel, but I wrote it to be enjoyed by all ages. It’s a little like Shrek—it works at a younger level, but there are references and themes that resonate with older readers.
What are the levels of sexuality and violence? (chapter one spoiler in answer)
There is no sexuality. This story is about culture, family, and friendship—it’s a clean novel. There is some violence, with the most shocking moment occurring early on when Seal’s younger sister dies. However, most of the violence is implied rather than graphic.
You’re not Lakota—why should I read a story about the Lakota written by you?
I write about what I know, and I recognize my limits. I didn’t set the story on a reservation because I wouldn’t know how to write that authentically. Instead, it begins on a farm—a setting I have personal experience with—before transitioning into a fantasy world. That said, I admire Lakota culture, from its deep spiritual traditions to its reverence for nature and storytelling. That respect shaped how I approached this novel.
How have you approached the Lakota culture in your novel?
I believe in the principle of “punching up” when telling stories. I approached this with as much respect as possible—reading Indigenous novels, visiting Lakota museums and land, and listening to Lakota voices both in person and online. The Lakota worldview, with its emphasis on interconnectedness and tradition, resonated with me deeply, and I’ve done my best to honor that while telling the story I set out to write. This was a labor of love.
Do you have concerns about how this will be received?
Absolutely. I’ve written about one of the Lakota’s most sacred figures, the White Buffalo Calf Woman, and incorporated their ceremonies into the backbone of my story. That’s a sensitive area, and I fully acknowledge that good intentions don’t always lead to good outcomes.
So why take that risk?
Because I believe in the story. I think it will entertain readers. I’m open to criticism because that’s how I learn, and open dialogue leads to greater awareness and understanding—which is what this novel is ultimately about. I hope I haven’t crossed the line into sacrilege, but if I have, I’m prepared to face that. My hope is that readers find something engaging and meaningful rather than moralistic or heavy-handed. If that happens, then maybe it can serve as a bridge.