Danica Nava loves love and writes about it well. An enrolled Chickasaw citizen, she is the first Indigenous rom-com novelist to be published by a mainstream publishing house. She bubbles over with excitement when she talks about her debut novel, The Truth According to Ember, an easy, breezy and welcome addition to the genre for Native readers, and for anyone who lives, laughs and (of course) loves.
“I love the butterfly feeling,” she said during our Zoom interview, speaking with infectious excitement and an easy smile while taking a break from being a new mother to talk about what inspires her. Even though movies like The Princess Diaries, Bridget Jones’s Diary and Legally Blonde belong to her favorite genre and she likes to say she’s a sucker for romance of all types, she realized she never saw Indigenous people playing the lead in these stories. And so she decided to write her own version, saying, “I want this to be so unapologetically Native, and I want us experiencing joy.”
There’s an upsetting history behind romance novels when it comes to Indigenous people: The genre is littered with one-dimensional and offensive stereotypes. But Nava’s book succeeds by forging its own way forward despite that history. It’s the kind of book that leaves the Native reader with the same elated and giddy feeling that your favorite rom-com might give you, only better. A romantic comedy with interesting characters who meaningfully embody the Indigenous experience? Yes, please. I’ll take two.
For every depiction of Native people in crisis, dispossessed and historically neglected, there ought to be an equal amount of literature in which we are shown overcoming obstacles, living fulfilling lives, laughing and falling in love.
The Truth According to Ember succeeds by reminding the reader that you need to learn how to be your authentic self before you can open the door to romance. Ember Lee Cardinal is a 25-year-old living in Oklahoma City and dreaming of something bigger. She loves numbers and wants to be an accountant, but she has not graduated college, and she suspects that the fact that she’s Chickasaw limits her opportunities. After applying for — and being rejected by — dozens of jobs, she decides on a desperate remedy: Why not just lie on her résumé? And so she starts calling herself white and saying that she has an accounting degree from a community college. The situation is loosely inspired by the challenges Nava herself faced trying to find a good job while Native.
“I want this to be so unapologetically Native, and I want us experiencing joy.”
Then — boom! — she gets an interview. But on the way there, Ember meets the person who will turn out to be her leading man: Danuwoa Colson, the company’s hot Cherokee IT guy. The character is loosely based on Tanaka Means, with long braids, six-pack abs, a winning smile, the works. And the chemistry is immediate: They tease each other, and, as in any good romance, there are constant, playful hints of something more.
There are references to serious Indigenous issues, but they are well integrated into the story: how it feels when you think someone is a “pretendian,” a cringy attempt at sage-burning at a corporate retreat, hearing weird racist language from your boomer boss. It’s not sexy, but the fact that these issues are raised helps Native readers sink comfortably into the book. And it all hangs together nicely, adding a certain depth to the rom-com atmosphere.
The corporate world is lampooned throughout. The company our protagonists work for is clearly unaccustomed to having Native people work there: Going off reservation, low man on the totem pole and let’s have a pow-wow are all examples of the thoughtless corporate jargon that so often makes Indigenous people uncomfortable. Language becomes another arm of colonization embedded in corporate culture, a ticking reminder that Native people rarely exist in these professional spaces. Again, Nava draws from her own experience, noting that one of her real-life former bosses used a slur while speaking to her about another Indigenous woman.
As Ember gets used to her new job, she finds herself struggling to keep up with all the lies she’s been telling: that she has a degree, that she’s white, that she already has a boyfriend. Lies to cover up yet more lies, as she and Danuwoa flirt and grow closer. Danuwoa sees through the falsehoods, but as they get bigger, Ember starts to lose control of the situation. It’s hard not to get angry at the character as her lies start to hurt her, as well as those around her.
“Ember has had a hard life without much opportunity,” Nava explained. The book is about more than romance with all its sweet gooey feelings; it’s also about the author’s own frustrations with the financial state so many young Natives find themselves in. Ember is under immense amounts of stress, and, overwhelmed by escalating issues at work and with her family, she responds in the worst way possible: She isolates herself and refuses to ask for help. She and her family have always struggled financially, but when she finally gets a well-paying job, she begins to unravel, convinced that she doesn’t deserve a stable income. Imposter syndrome sets in; she is lost in a corporate system where her real background leaves her constantly anxious and isolated. “It’s about the corporate and capitalistic institutions that systematically undervalue BIPOC employees,” Nava said.
“It’s about the corporate and capitalistic institutions that systematically undervalue BIPOC employees.”
Ember’s faults are obvious, and the book is better for them. When she isn’t enmeshed in her tangle of lies, Ember is charming and funny. The reader can’t help caring about her, and it hurts when everything finally falls apart. But that makes it all the better when she finally picks herself back up and comes to terms with who she is. It is only when she is exposed and forced to accept herself that she can open up to love.
Like many Indigenous people who realize they need help, Ember ultimately turns to her community. No spoilers here; I’ll let you read the book to find out how the romance bits pan out — including a very surprising, heartfelt rendition of Peter Gabriel’s song “In Your Eyes.”
The whole time she was writing her novel, Nava said, she was thinking of the song “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone, a Native rock band whose breakout-hit remains legendary in Indigenous circles. Every time she got writer’s block, she played that song. She wants her readers to feel like they are listening to it while reading her book: Like The Truth According to Ember, it’s the kind of joyous bop you can sink right into as you let yourself fall in love.
“It’s fun and vibrant and the vibe I want in my summer rom-com,” she said. “Come and get your love, Ember.”
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This article appeared in the August 2024 print edition of the magazine with the headline “Come and get your love.”
