Alright, here it goes.
I’m weird.
Yep. I just said that.
My secret is out there.
I’ve always been weird. Always. Since I was a little kid. I was a weird five-year-old, a weird ten-year-old, a weird fifteen-year-old, and now a weird twenty-something.
And let me get one thing straight: I am not a writer who went weird. The writing, even when I was young, did not change me.
I am not weird because I am a writer. I am a writer because I am weird.
You have to be a little weird to have a job like this. And… well, it suits me. My love of staying up way too late, my dislike of uniforms, and my not great people skills all combine well with being a writer.
And, now having outed myself, I am further saying: it’s okay. It’s okay to be weird. It’s okay if you’re weird. It’s okay if you cannot understand why people do some of the things they do. It’s okay if you’ll take the choices that make the most logical sense, even if it’s not the most socially approved idea.
Trust me. You’re fine. As long as you’re happy, and safe.
I mean, it’s not like we could change even if we wanted to, anyway. It’s just a part of people. Everybody is a little weird, and you can own it, and understand it, and your weirdness would be a little more obvious.
That’s all.
But I get it. I get wanting to hide it. I get fearing the looks and the way some people will talk. It’s lonely in the weird camp sometimes. But it doesn’t have to be. The nerds: perhaps the most ubiquitous of the oddballs back in the day—now rule the world.
And, I think, at least in small ways, all types of weirdness will have its day in the sun. With the interconnectivity of humans and the budding acceptance of groups once considered taboo, we are slowly stripping away the idea of the “other”. Or at least, I hope so.
I believe people can learn to accept the weird. I believe the concept of weird is more subjective and judgmental than we were ever lead to think. I believe that “normal” is the enemy of making this world into a more creative place.
I believe things can get better for all of us, and people are, at the end of everything, kind.
They’re just in cultural bias bubbles right now. And the rapid popping of those bubbles is causing a temporary force that will calm.
I believe in a cool, strange world. Because…well…
…. I’m weird like that.
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Good stuff. This is particularly true of SFF readers and writers, or at least the nagging certainty that others see us as weird.
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Thank you! Yeah, I agree. Horror writers too.
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