Here's her Kickstarter Link if you want to check it out: Born to Be Magic
Swirl: How Being Mixed Race Informs My Writing
By Jessica McDonald
When I was young, I didn’t understand the concept of being
mixed race. Part of my family was white, part of my family was Cherokee—it was
as simple as that. I didn’t particularly grasp why I was lighter skinned than
my relatives, or what it meant when I was told to say I was white. But when I
was eight years old, my school held a re-enactment of the 1889 Oklahoma Land
Rush. The white kids played settlers. The Native kids played dead on the
ground. I didn’t know where I belonged. I asked my teacher where I should go,
and she asked me, “Who do you want to be?”
Loaded question for a second grader.
Fast forward some decades and that question, “Who do you
want to be?” has defined my life. Because I’m white passing, I didn’t identify
myself as Native for a long time. I felt like I wasn’t “Indian enough.” But my
mom took me to ceremonies and sweats and taught me our history, and I didn’t
feel right in the white world either. Navigating the choppy waters of racial
identity proved harder than I thought. If I said I was white, I felt like I was
denying an entire side of my family. If I said I was Native, I felt I had to
prove it—like there was some invisible checklist to certify my Nativeness. My
mother died when I was 16, and my grandparents had passed on before her; with
their loss I suffered a cultural loss as well. I no longer had anyone to guide
me in my search for identity. I had only stories, and a sense of belonging to
two worlds and also being a fraud in both of them.
This search for identity is a central theme in my writing,
and I don’t think you have to be mixed race for it to resonate with you. We’re
all searching for acceptance, we’re all searching for our truth, we’re all
ships sailing through a storm. In my debut novel, BORN TO BE MAGIC, the
protagonist, Rachel Collins, walks this line between human and witch. She
craves normality while defining herself supernaturally. It’s these
contradictions, these conflicts, that inform the process of developing our
identities.
Rachel is a ley witch, a rarity among her kind, and is
somewhat shunned for being too dangerous. Simultaneously, she cannot set aside
that which makes her different in order to be completely human. In much the
same way, I could not set aside my Nativeness to be completely white, nor could
I set aside my whiteness to be completely Native. I had to blend the two, to
create a world of my own design, where I could stand on solid ground instead of
having one foot on the platform and one foot on the train. Rachel’s story is
about finding that world, about carving out a definition of self that is
uniquely hers.
My experiences are neither completely Native nor completely
white. I walk through the world with white skin, but I bear the weight of the
tragedies that befell generations before me. I move through a modern world with
ancestral knowledge. I know that I may be rejected by either of my two halves,
and therein lies the most important point: The search for identity cannot begin
outside the self. To reconcile those conflicts, we must turn inward. One of my
favorite indigenous artists, Frank Waln, puts it best in his song “Good Way”:
“You’ve been waiting your whole life to find out who you
are
These people judge your skin but still they fail to see your scars
Everything you’re looking for out there is deep inside
Your heart is like an ocean when it’s open deep and wide.”
These people judge your skin but still they fail to see your scars
Everything you’re looking for out there is deep inside
Your heart is like an ocean when it’s open deep and wide.”
In my novel, Rachel has to learn this lesson the hard way.
She constantly rejects authority while craving its acceptance. She shuns a
“normal life” but refuses to fully embrace her witch status. She wants to live
in the middle of the Venn diagram of supernatural and human, and doesn’t know
how to create that space for herself. It’s her journey of self-identity that
serves as her central internal conflict.
Themes of identity and belonging also feature in my other
works. My nonfiction essays have largely centered on the representation of
indigenous peoples and the conflicts faced by mixed-race persons. While
everyone goes through a self-discovery process, my experiences provide me with
unique perspective. For Rachel, she encounters people who help her decide her
identity for herself. For me, it was reconnecting with the indigenous
communities and adoptive families that allowed me to meld my two worlds. I
still have fear of being a fraud; I still have fear that I’m missing my Indian
card; I still feel somewhat out of place in white spaces. But I’ve taken that
inward plunge, and I’ve found a way to bring my two halves together. This
allows me to take characters on the same journey, one that I hope will offer
comfort and insight to those that journey with them.
Rachel Collins isn’t sure sarcasm is an actual method of self-defense,
but she keeps testing the theory. On paper, she’s an agent for the Colorado
Bureau of Investigation, but in reality, she’s a ley witch, and as a deputy
working for the High Council of Witches, it’s her job to keep the supernatural
in line and protect humanity from the things they don’t know exist. It’s
dangerous, and not just because a Walking Dead reject might
eat her face. If she uses too much power, she could become a monster
herself.
It's all magical forensics and arresting perps for dealing
with demons until Rachel’s brother disappears, kidnapped by someone sending her
a very particular message. Defying the Council’s order to stay off her
brother’s case, Rachel hides her witchy identity from the demon hunter
Sean—which definitely has nothing to do with how hot he is—and
strikes a deal to save her brother. Unfortunately, their plan risks corrupting
Rachel's soul, a grievous offense in the eyes of the Council. Now she’ll have
to prove she’s not hellbound—or suffer the same brand of justice she used to
serve.
About Jessica McDonald: Writer, speaker, geek. Jessica writes urban fantasy and YA,
and is a purveyor of real-life magic. Powered by caffeine, ridiculousness, and
charm. Proud indigenous.
Jessica splits her time between Japan, where she is
currently an English teacher, and Denver, where she spent many a year as a
marketing director. She has owned her own company, designing promotional
campaigns for both authors and businesses. She earned her Master’s degree from
the University of Denver and holds undergraduate degrees from The Pennsylvania
State University, and has worked for everything from political campaigns to
game design companies. She has published original research on online user
behavior, and presented to national conferences on how social media really is
more than just cat videos. Her recent presentations have included using fandoms
as an in-road to STEM for girls and diversity in media.
When she’s not writing or working, she spends time exploring
Japan; playing with her two cats and dog; playing the cello; gaming; doing
outdoorsy stuff; and avoiding adult life as much as possible. A two-time
Zebulon Award winner, she is currently working on her sixth novel, a
Diné-inspired YA paranormal called SKY MARKED. She belongs to Pikes Peak
Writers and Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers, as well as the
crucial-to-her-success critique group, Highlands Ranch Fiction Writers.
Find her on Twitter at @coloradojess, Facebook, Instagram at
@coloradojessica, her blog, or on her super
geeky roleplay Tumblr. Or possibly all of those
at once.
Thank you, Jessica! Your story hits close to home, especially when you talk about having a foot in each world and feeling like a fraud in both. The quote from Frank Waln is perfect.
Jessica's book will be released soon. Looking forward to it!
What life experiences have shaped your writing? How much do you see yourself reflected in the characters and worlds you create?
May you find your Muse.
