For creative people, being an outsider can influence what we notice and what we make. Writers, artists, and other creative professionals who feel outside of dominant culture or conventions often develop a distinctive perspective of the world around them.
I’ve always felt like people at the margins tend to notice where the seams in their society are – at least, a little easier than those who live inside it comfortably. It doesn’t always make these outsiders wiser, I think, just more attuned to what’s a little off-kilter. I always think of Shakespeare’s fool characters, who can speak the truth of a situation because they’re not one of the elite. Their outsider perspective gives them a unique freedom. Like in this section of King Lear:
Fool
Yes indeed. Thou wouldst make a good fool.Lear
To tak’t again perforce! Monster ingratitude!Fool
If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I’ld have thee beaten for being
old before thy time.Lear
How’s that?Fool
Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst been wise.
When seeing a problem doesn’t mean you can change it
In my own fiction, I’m always drawn to putting outsider characters front and centre for these reasons. I write historically-inspired SF/F set in societies that disregard personal autonomy. Being inspired by Filipino & Finnish history means my characters’ struggles stem from just wanting to define their own lives. Should be simple, but history proves again and again that it’s not.
One thing I always return to in my work is this question: What can you do when you have this knowledge, but maybe not the power to easily change things? As someone who’s often felt outside certain groups and systems, I know this feeling well. Sometimes I can see what’s happening, but am in little to no power to actually fix what’s broken. And unfortunately I find it easy in my fiction research to find examples of everyday people who didn’t have much recourse to change what was broken in their world. Instead, they had to find some other ways to cope – or even better, small ways to rebel.
How creative work becomes a form of agency
What does being an outsider have to do with creativity? I think the tension of being an outsider can give their work a very unique – and necessary – perspective. For many outsiders, their creativity is the strongest tool they have to make sense of the worlds they live between, to try and negotiate that reality. Maybe it’s the only way they can suggest change at all.
They comment with sharpness. Their distance reveals truths. Sometimes there’s even a certain freedom in creating as an outsider. Or maybe it means resisting external pressures to create in a certain predetermined way. Staying true to themselves always.
And when writing outsiders as characters, these elements can be used in really interesting ways. Outsider characters can show us perspectives we may not have previously considered, or challenge us to question everything we take as normal. In certain stories, they can also be the perfect pair of eyes for the reader who’s unfamiliar with the environment you’re creating – think Luke Skywalker in Star Wars or Lilith Iyapo in Octavia E Butler’s Dawn (a personal favourite).
Personally, I think part of the reason I’m drawn to writing outsider characters is the catharsis of it. Sure, my novels are most often fantasy, but writing about underdogs finding a way to undermine oppressive systems is satisfying in a bone-deep way, magic or no.
Whether creatives use their outsider status overtly or not, that exciting feeling is often there in their work – possibility.
The freedom of creating outside conventional expectations
What happens if you’re an outsider in your own creative universe? What do you do if your thinking or work doesn’t fit the dominant model of what a creative career is supposed to look like?
I know what that feels like, and how frustrating it is. Many people I talk to in a similar situation feel this pressure to create in an expected way, either so they can fit in or so they can more easily make money with what they love to do. The balance between “creative independence” and “conventional creative career” is tricky. But what I find helpful is to hang on to that outsider spirit wherever I can.
For me, it shows up in the kinds of novels I write. For others, it may be offering possibility or connection to other creatives like them. It could be your unique creative process. It may even be subversive, sneaking outsider commentary in with something conventionally pleasant – like Florante at Laura, the 19th-century Tagalog tale of courtly love that used artistic conventions specifically to get by censors and symbolize the struggle and resilience of colonial Philippines.
I think maybe the goal though isn’t always to find a system that’ll make you fit in, especially if it’s someone else’s system. I always encourage people to embrace their “weird” and find out what creative practice makes the most sense for them.
In what ways do you challenge a dominant narrative/belief with your work or process? These can be large or small – it all counts.
Being an outsider doesn’t automatically make someone more perceptive or creative. But distance from dominant norms can create a really cool vantage point. For creative professionals, an outsider perspective can become part of the work itself – a way to find belonging, question assumptions, imagine alternatives, or develop a creative practice that doesn’t depend on conventional models.
Want to explore what actually works for you?
If you’re trying to build a creative practice that doesn’t quite fit the usual template, that’s the kind of question I explore as a Creative Advisor. I work with thoughtful creative professionals who want strategic guidance that respects their need to think and create in their own way.