Writing YA romance is like “planting seeds,” says author Ebony LaDelle. The author of Love Radio (2022) wants her novels to offer young people compassionate guidance for healthy dating wrapped up in swoony love stories. In her latest, This Could Be Forever (Simon & Schuster, May 20), the story is this: When Deja, a Black girl from small-town North Carolina, visits the Maryland college where she plans to study chemistry and soil science, she makes a spontaneous stop to get a celebratory tattoo. Sparks fly when talented artist Raja, a second-generation Nepali American boy who’ll also be attending the University of Maryland, designs a custom sunflower tattoo for her.

Both teens deeply value their families, making it all the more painful to navigate some older relatives’ fears about their cultural, religious, racial, and social class differences. Juggling college dreams, first love, self-determination, and delicate family bonds takes all of Deja’s and Raja’s care and communication, but with support from siblings, cousins, and friends, they trust in love—and one another. The teens’ grandparents, who forged their own paths, also prove to be valuable role models. LaDelle spoke with us over Zoom from her home in the New York tri-state area; our conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

You worked as a marketer in the publishing world. What surprised you the most about becoming an author?

Even when you’re in the same industry, it’s completely different. The writing piece involves a lot of self-discipline, which, for me, wasn’t the hardest part, but you’re very much by yourself. Especially for Love Radio—no one even knew I was a writer. There are times where I miss the camaraderie of getting behind a project with a full team. I miss the collaboration. I think that was most shocking, just how different that that vibe is day to day. The other thing I would say is the anxiety of publishing your book: I am a marketer, there are a lot of things that I know I should be doing, but I’m too scared to. And those are the very things that I’m telling other authors to do―even just consistently posting [on social media] and making sure that your readership knows where you’re at. I read manuscripts for acquisition, and I did edit a book at Simon & Schuster, but the whole production aspect was completely new to me.

Was the one you edited YA?

No, it was adult [nonfiction], Muslim Girl by Amani Al-Khatahtbeh, but it was a coming-of-age book. I had to learn what an editorial letter was, how you write it, and what comes of it. You [can] get caught in your head—oh my God, I’ve never done this before—but it got a New York Times book review, which I never expected. I’m happy that I was a part of that project, and I do think it helped me as I was writing my books.

YA romance authors have so much privilege and responsibility: Their readers have been exposed to many societal messages about relationships, not always healthy ones, and their life experiences are limited.

As adults, sometimes you’re backtracking [around] some of the unhealthy dynamics you witnessed growing up that you’ve internalized. How about if we give teens tools to have a healthy relationship—as healthy as possible, whether it’s for two weeks or two years—so that when they come out of it, they’re not damaged? There’s a lot of shame that comes from making bad decisions, so what I’m trying to do is plant ideas. You might use some this year. Maybe two years later, you’ll think back on the book and view it with fresh eyes.

Did you start off with the characters of Deja and Raja, or did you first have the general idea for the plot?

The idea came first, because I was in a young, interracial, intercultural relationship, and there were a lot of things that I was trying to understand. Moving to New York, starting my publishing career, meeting people from across the globe—a lot of my friends were women of color dating men from different cultures. There [was] a connectedness to the things we were experiencing. It was a story that I knew I wanted to tell, but I needed years to really understand: Thinking of young Ebony, what would I want her to know? I knew some of the throughlines; then, because of what I wanted to discuss and the time frame, I needed to write insta-love. So it was more like, What does Deja want? Who is she as a person? I crafted her story, and then from there, I realized how I needed Raja to be for her.

I despair when I see social media accounts monetizing multiracial/multicultural couples in exoticizing ways. You go beyond superficial soundbites to dig into things that are so real.

I think about [comments] like, “Oh, your baby’s going to be so pretty,” when people see an interracial couple. That always grinds my gears. It’s really distasteful and gross. All babies are beautiful. I have seen some of the content, and I’m sure I was thinking about it because I wanted to subvert all that. When you think of interracial relationships, you don’t necessarily think of a Black woman; it’s usually a Black man who’s dating someone outside of his race. I wanted Deja to be very dark-skinned and have very short hair—she’s gorgeous, she knows it, and Raja knows it. I wanted to talk about dark-skinned people across cultures, and our issues with colorism globally. I wanted to showcase food. It’s one of the ways I’m always connecting with other cultures, and I think when it’s done properly, it’s very much showing respect. That was really the intention, to highlight the beauty of both cultures in different ways. I didn’t want the book to be superficial, and that’s one of the reasons why it needed time to cook in my head.

Have you had any especially meaningful interactions with readers?

It’s been great to hear from readers who are from different cultures talk about how, even though they’re not Nepali, they really see themselves in the story. Another surprising response that I’ve gotten is from Black girls and women from the diaspora, talking about how they saw themselves in both Deja and Raja, and [that] felt like a complete experience. That’s been amazing.

Was there anything we didn’t cover that you’d like to say?

Queen [Deja’s grandmother] and Baba [Raja’s grandfather] were defying expectations, going against the grain of tradition, and that’s something we always need to think about: whether something feels right or wrong. Question why—and if you know in your heart of hearts that it isn’t fair, it’s OK to make a little noise. Emotions get high, people say things that they can’t take back, and a lot of times it’s from fear. It might require you to take things in stages. I was writing this book and thinking about my own grandmother, who endured so much being Black in this country and still persevered and fought. That inspired me to write Queen. But there were people in all our lineages who had things way worse than we do, and they were able to get through it. If they could, so can we.

Laura Simeon is a young readers’ editor.