Why I Started Writing Magnificent Misfits

One of the things I loved most about publishing When the Room Empties was hearing from readers who recognised themselves in the pages.

Not because they had lived the same experiences or that they agreed with every idea. But because they saw something familiar.

Sometimes it was a particular reflection. Sometimes it was a sentence. Sometimes it was simply the feeling of being understood.

That response stayed with me.

So when I caught myself reflecting on my own childhood, the idea of creating something children could feel familiar in seemed like something I needed to explore.

At the time, I had no idea what form that exploration would take. I still don't know exactly where it will lead. I suspect there will be many magnificent misfits, funny adventures, outrageous questions, and perhaps even a few reflections from my own childhood that I haven't recognised yet.

That uncertainty is part of the joy of writing for me. Stories have a habit of revealing themselves slowly. Characters often arrive carrying ideas I wasn't expecting to explore.

Speaking from my own experience (although I suspect I'm not alone), I spent many of my early adult years learning to understand and accept parts of myself that were so challenging as a child. I learned which differences mattered, which didn't, and which things I worried about unnecessarily as a child. I slowly came to realise that much of what makes me who I am was never a problem in the first place outside my own understanding of what "normal" was.

I believe our children are walking a similar path, trying to figure it all out.

Many grow up quietly noticing the things that they believe make them feel different from those around them. They compare themselves. They wonder where they fit. They worry if they stack up to the idea of what their peers believe them to be, always careful not to reveal that thing that suggests they're a little different.

The School of Magnificent Misfits grew from the belief that children deserve stories that help them feel recognised too.

There is no shortage of adults willing to teach children lessons. Parents, teachers, coaches, grandparents and carers spend countless hours helping children understand the world around them and their place within it. That guidance matters.

What stories can offer is something slightly different.

Rather than telling children what they should think, stories can create opportunities for them to discover things for themselves. They can provide moments of familiarity. Small moments where a child sees a little of themselves in a character, a situation, a worry, or a way of looking at the world.

That is the intention behind these books.

Not to convince children that they are special. Not to tell them that every difference is a hidden superpower waiting to be discovered. Simply to create stories filled with characters who experience the same doubts, insecurities, curiosities and questions that many children quietly carry with them.

My hope is that children enjoy the adventures, laugh at the characters, and simply have fun reading them.

The deeper ideas are there, however, and the hope is that they will be found and welcomed at the reader's own pace.

If a child sees a little of themselves in Darby, Lily, Noah, Max, or another character, that's wonderful.

If those stories spark conversations with a parent, teacher, grandparent, coach or trusted adult, that's wonderful too.

Sometimes being recognised is enough. Sometimes it is the beginning of understanding yourself a little better.