As a teenager, I was still on the fringes. My family didn’t have much money, so not only did I not have the cool clothes everyone was “supposed” to have, I often didn’t even manage to fade into the background. I still remember one cheap pair of shoes that I stared school with. (My parents could afford one new pair every fall.) When the thin piece of plastic over the bottom of the heel wore off, exposing the hollow within, I clopped all over school. (Some people still call me Pony.) I started working as soon as I could to earn money for clothes and college savings. Other kids went to football games. I served pizza to them afterward.
Even as an adult, I sometimes feel on the fringes. I see women wearing lots of makeup, sporting heels that make me dizzy just to look at them, and with nail polish and carefully dyed hair. Meanwhile I’m dressed in my workout clothes and wear makeup a few times a year.
Maybe all these experiences are why my characters are on the fringes.
In Shock Point, Cassie finds herself shipped off to an overseas bootcamp for troubled teens. She is surrounded by dozens of kids from the fringes whose parents desperately want them to become mainstream.
In Torched, Ellie is the adopted daughter of hippie parents who embarrass her no end - until she herself gets caught up in an activist cause.
In Girl, Stolen, Cheyenne is blinded at the age of 13. Just imagine how much on the fringes you would feel if you were suddenly labeled “disabled.”
A little secret
I think that deep down, everyone feels like an outcast. Feels like they don’t really fit in. Especially teens. Which is why we like fringe characters in fiction.