Growing Up Other

Shy, anxious, and awkward as a child, I felt other even before such a concept existed in my vocabulary. There were costs to my childhood, but also huge gains. Left mostly to myself, I devoured what surrounded me–music of all genres, art, and books, especially science fiction, horror, and fantasy. I never felt lonely, even when building solitary sandcastles on the beaches of the Caribbean. Monsters from the mysterious depths of the ocean were always on hand to storm the ramparts or stop by for a l’il skylarking with space-conquering aliens. Conversations and characters in my head were natural first steps to writing and drawing the fantastic. Growing up surrounded by island superstitions, that lore gave hidden undertones to my stories.

By the time I moved to the United States, where the color of my skin and island accent defined me, I had become used to being other. Although, I would never get used to the bullying. I survived, as most of us do who find ourselves not fitting in until we find our people later in life. These days, I spend my second childhood writing and drawing science-fiction, fantasy, and supernatural stories, peppered with a spicy marinade of multicultural myths.

I’ve learned over the years that I am not alone in feeling other. If this speaks to you, I hope you’ll give my stories a try. I hope you’ll find a place where you feel you belong.