“How do the teens in your book series get away with so much?”
I’ve been asked the question, “HOW do the teens in your book series get away with so much?” enough times that I need to address it head on, because readers question the believability. While I touched on it in the Gen X blog post, I can be more direct.
I was stunned when first asked this question because the answer seemed obvious to me. It turns out that being raised in the So Cal Valley and Hollywood during the 80’s and 90’s fostered a unique lifestyle not experienced by most. Yes, to answer the question, the freedom and ability to wander actually happened. While my books are fictional, I grounded them in the truth of my actual teen lifestyle. Also, yes, I had parents. Really good parents who were present and incredibly aware.
The problem, as I’ve come to understand it, is that there’s a distinctly different set of circumstances experienced in big cities, versus smaller communities. To put things into perspective, in 90’s Los Angeles, life was hard. Parents worked themselves sick to make ends meet. Even then, Los Angeles was a very expensive place to live. Violence was aggravated. Frustrations mounted. Even traffic and crowding were a never-ending irritation that grated on nerves. Tensions in everyday life are high. Add to it the social pressures of an ever growing “coming out” movement, and teens struggled with belonging. I had many friends that were thrown out of their homes for their lifestyles. It was a tough time for them, but we banded together, and they all had somewhere to land.
I had friends that were married in high school. Some due to having a baby, but others had different reasons. Other friends were taken in by our teachers when they were tossed out. I had friends who rented their own places in high school. How did they do it? Hell, I don’t know, but they did. Two of those friends had their own place because their families lived far enough from Hollywood High that they had no choice. Traffic is beastly in Southern California, and attending the high school was worthy of a location shift. Those people invited me over for parties. They were cool, and we had a blast partying at their place.
It wasn’t my business why people lived how they did. Our social circle wasn’t embroiled in gossiping about each other’s hardships, but we were there to help work through it. It was survival of the fittest, and we were a team. Would life have been easier with a happy nuclear family and the daily doldrum of success and stability? Sure. We wouldn’t have collectively become who we were if that had been the case, though.
Stability is a luxury. Those of us that had it helped those that didn’t. I carried a lunch to school every day that was a jam-packed grocery sack. Three sandwiches, puddings, oranges, chip bags, juice boxes, etc. No, I’m not kidding. I did that because my mother refused to sit at home worrying about my friends with no lunch money, who hadn’t had breakfast, and may not have dinner. There wasn’t a dramatic discussion about it when lunch rolled around. I plunked down the bag at our spot in Actors Alley and anyone that wanted something snagged it. There was no need to make it weird. We needed to laugh and eat, free from stress.
There was also no need to make it weird when a friend would follow me to my car after school and ask if they could come home with me for the night. Often, the person was embroiled in a family crisis. My answer was always yes, and my parents never batted an eye when I’d show up at home with a friend. My mom just set another place at the dinner table.
Regarding how we ditched and stayed out all night. . . I laugh every time someone asks, “Didn’t you have rules?!” Sure, some of us did. Welcome to teen rebellion. The rules in the real-life Misfits houses varied. In the case of my parents’ rules, truth was king. I rarely lied. If I landed at a house party, I let my parents know. In some instances, I got home by curfew. In other instances, I ended up having to stay the night because I wasn’t solid to drive. My parents knew the friends in question, trusted that I was safe, and were agreeable if I kept them in the loop. I was safe where I was and driving tired or intoxicated wasn’t an option I’d consider. This flexibility and “living in reality” operating procedure served us well.
My parents knew I was a bit of a wild child. They carefully and thoughtfully rode that line with me. They rarely overreacted due to some fantastical desire for me to be a perfect “good girl.” In turn, I rarely mislead them. Because they were reasonable, when they put the hammer down, I listened. They didn’t balk at my plans to attend a house party, because they knew the kids that would be there. We were wild, but street smart. On the rare occasion that any of the Misfits landed in legit trouble, my parents were often the ones that were called. We got a few lectures on occasion, but generally they realized that we learned our lesson and a quick discussion to prove it sufficed.
Staying out late wasn’t odd. Considering that it took forever to drive anywhere, and then drive home, our curfews were later than a small-town teen had. We explored and thrived. We had each other’s backs. We survived, taking on each of our circumstances as a unit. We made it through, growing into confident and formidable individuals. To this day, if any of the original real-life Misfits contact each other, we’re there for the laughter and hardships. Genuine community bonds us.
So, to answer the question, “HOW do the teens in your book series get away with so much?”- Life isn’t the same for all of us. The level of freedom, anarchy, and hardship in the Hollywood High Chronicles is some people’s reality. Might as well roll with it. We certainly did and it benefited us.
Photo Credits:
Models: Ophelia Benally, Maddie Dawn Cordero, and Lillian Cordero
Photographer: Tino Duvick Broken Chain Photography