I probably should have lead off with the one Misfit I know the best — me. From birth to now, I have pretty much embodied all that is Misfit. And since this weeks Misfit Monday happens to land on Halloween, I figure ‘why not’?’! Sure you’ve read my bio, my blog, and my books. But those things don’t really get you, the reader, fan, and stalker, into the true heart of me and my inner Misfit (that’s actually quite an outer Misfit, as I don’t make a habit of hiding it.) So, without further adieu, I give you — me.
Here’s the deal — I’ve always lived on the fringe. From fashion choices, to music, to points of view, I have always pretty much been a purveyor of counter-culture. The underpinnings of my inner misfit blossomed in similar fashion to many a misfit. Growing up poor in a small town makes one do strange things just to keep the popular kids (aka, the middle school “man”) from keeping you down. So you (I, as it were) adopted a strange sense of fashion and an even stranger sense of humor. I was the class clown — but not the balloon-tying, kids party kinda clown. My clown veered more toward Tim Curry’s clown in IT. That’s right, I was a dark clown with an agenda. That agenda … make ’em pay.
Okay, that can so easily be taken in a pseudo serial killer kinda way. It wasn’t THAT dark. Well, at least not until Grad School when I developed “Demonseed” in clown class. But that is neither hear nor there and a bit too scary for Get Jack’d.
But what really happened? Was there a moment in the space-time continuum that was like whoa! “This is who I am!” Why yes, Virginia, there was.
I was sitting at home one summer — it was high school, so between 1984-1986 — watching MTV (back when the “M” stood for “Music” and not “Meh”). All of a sudden my world completely changed when I saw Robert Smith, of The Cure, dancing around in his furry sweater singing “Why can’t I be you?” I thought, “Oh my god…why can’t I be you?” Thing is, I could…and so I did.
My life, she changed. I had discovered a music that would infect me from the soul outward and help to re-define my own personal misfit. Life became about presenting myself in as wild a fashion as I could. Gender lines were blurred, my music tastes hopped on the dark hayride, and a sort of Glam Goth Punk was born.
This whole devotion to deviation carried on into college were I vowed to make a serious impression on everyone I met. I had begun to enjoy the attention afforded me by my crazy sense of style and thought — the weirder the better. I was listening to music the masses hadn’t heard, I was wearing clothes in ways no one in a small town dared dream of. I even started trends just to see how far I could challenge people’s tastes.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t doing this out of malice — this was pure curiosity, fun, and boredom. Even though this misfit was slowly evolving, it was still formed around a big heart and kind soul.
But then…it happened. After a long career as an actor, I became part of the corporate world and it was scary. That is when I realized just how much this misfit didn’t fit in. Awash in a sea of the shirttucking blue and khaki army, my sense of gender-clashing style had no place. My points of view were skewed and my ability to fit in simply non-existent.
In the corporate world, I was a serious misfit. Out of place and out of my mind. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last, else my soul wither and die.
And now, here I am, a writer. And guess what? I am still misfit. A misfit among misfits. How? Well, I write horror — the very genre of misfits. And I write one series involving nothing but misfits of society. And dare I mention, my favorite lil’ misfit creation that goes by the name of…wait for it…Shero?
Who’s Shero? You know who Shero, is my lovelies. Just take a look at my author photo — now, who do you think Shero is? 😉
Much of what I write about comes from a very, very special place — actually a couple of very special places: My heart and my experience in life. I am a misfit’s misfit and want everyone to know your misfit-dom is so very welcome in my world, in my life, and in my works. To that end, I would love to hear from you, hear your story — your misfit story. Who knows, maybe that story needs to be given the Jamie and Skip or even the Shero treatment.
Misfits make the world a lovelier, more interesting place. Be proud misfits! I know I am. Like whoa!
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