What Defines Us?
Fans of mine might have noticed that most of my books have an underlying theme: What defines us? Are we products of our DNA? How much of who we are stems from the learned behavior we get from our parents? Midnight Hour showcases Perry seeking answers from his parents who abandoned him when he was three, and Perry, like me, is left to wonder about what defines him.
When I was young, I used to really think I might have been adopted, swapped at birth, or picked up on a street corner. I know I write about a lot of dysfunctional families. Mine wasn’t that dysfunctional. But I was just different.
I was dyslexic. I really think that if I hadn’t been dyslexic, I would have been a blatant book geek. And frankly, no one in my family is a reader with exception of my maternal grandmother. And, yes, I think I did get a lot from her.
I struggled more in school than my brothers. However, I also internalized everything. While I didn’t read, I was already creating stories in my head, yet not once did I consider growing up and writing. It just didn’t seem like something someone like me would do. Both my parents and my two brothers did things with their hands. Dad was a contractor and plumber, my mom was a housewife and worked a little as a nurse’s aid. My older brother loved music and played numerous instruments, while my younger brother was totally into sports.
Yes, I was definitely the odd one in the bunch. I wanted go to my room or find a spot in the woods and lose myself in my stories. Now, I do see some personality traits I’ve inherited from my parents. My dad loves to laugh and tease and I’m right there with him. My mom is a bit zany and can laugh at her own mistakes. I certainly got that from her. But other than that, I’m still the odd one out.
Seriously, neither of my parents read my books, but they are very proud of me. And they expect copies of every book I write. They just aren’t readers. And not only am I a writer, but I’ve overcome a lot of hurdles and now I love to read as well.
So, like Perry, I ask myself: Are we defined by our DNA? Did I get all of this from my grandmother? Why am different from my family?
What do you think? How are you like your parents and siblings? Do you ever feel like an odd man out?
Buy Midnight Hour Early!
You can purchase Midnight Hour before it even goes on sale! No, I’m not even talking about preordering it. October 1st, I’ll be at the Texas Teen Book Festival at St. Edward’s University in Austin, Texas. It’s a great event with book signings, games, parties, workshops, a costume contest and a chance to meet many of your favorite authors. And they also sell books–and they will be selling copies of Midnight Hour, so you can purchase them and have me sign them for you before it’s even officially released.
But if you can’t make it to the book festival, you can still preorder Midnight Hour and submit your receipt to St. Martin’s Press HERE. Then, on Oct. 25th, you get a FREE copy of Fighting Back, Kylie & Lucas’s novella. Now, several of you have contacted me saying you’re having trouble submitting your receipt to that page. So, if you have a problem, please try sending it to romance@stmartins.com. Just remember, to get Fighting Back, you have to submit your receipt BEFORE Oct. 24th!
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I definitely do. I am nothing like my siblings and hardly anything like my father or relations further away, but as I get older I have found a few similarities between me and my mother. She is also exceptionally independent, stubborn as heck and doesn't need anyone to hold her hand for her to act. Though as I am a writer and an artist, I have the mind of a bohemian, a dreamer and I don't believe that anything is impossible, as long as you have willpower and vision. No one in my family thinks like that, including my mom. They are realistic thinkers and often pessimistic thinkers. Glass half full I suppose. Though with my mom it is more part of her being a mom, hence, a worrier. I am also a firm believer of the supernatural and other worlds, and my mom shares that interest but the rest of my family think it is bogus. I keep in contact with my mother and aunt but the rest of them make me feel like an alien. They can't even begin to comprehend the way my mind works, nor I theirs. I see a forest and I enter another world, I see a leaf and I can think up a book in my mind and a white wall or a white piece of paper, to me, means a world of opportunities. I wish I had known my grandparents and great grandparents so I could know if maybe there were more like me further back in the family. I'd like to think there were. But as it is, I am and always have been the odd one out, the "weirdo" of the family. It doesn't bother me much anymore, though. I love being a writer and if that means not being able to fit in, then that's that. No worries.
I don't think we are defined by our DNA but lots of people are judged in the world because of who their parents might be and that's a sad thing. I think everyone feels like they're an odd one out from time to time but then we learn to accept ourselves. I hope that's what Perry learns to do in Midnight Hour.
