'Even the bad guys have back stories'

Erin Lange

Teen author Erin Jade Lange tells us why she wants to paint the bullies in her novels not simply in black and white, but in shades of grey

It would be easy to label at least half the characters in my novel, Butter, as bullies and leave it at that. It would also be easy to label all of the kids who were once cruel to me nothing more than bullies as well. But that would be unfair. Because even the bad guys have back stories, and just like the target of bullying is more than a victim, the perpetrator is more than just a bully.

I didn’t come by this realisation easily. For many years, after surviving my own experience with bullying, I carried around a self-righteous feeling that there were good guys and bad guys, and all of my tormenters fell into the latter category. Then one day, something happened that changed the way I viewed the bullies.
I was home on break from college, hanging out in my favorite coffee shop, which was packed with all of my favorite people. Except one. I spotted her across the shop – one of the girls who had been so evil to me way back when. I hadn’t seen her in six or seven years, and I didn’t know if she would recognise me, but when we made eye contact, to my horror, she didn’t just recognise me – she started pushing through the crowd to get to me.

I wanted to run from her, even after all that time, but I was paralyzed with fear. When she finally reached me, she asked if I remembered her, and then she didn’t bother with small talk. She got right to the point and said something I will never ever ever forget. She said, 'I’m sorry for the way we all treated you back then.'

I was floored. But more than that, I was ticked off! The one thing I had, after what I’d been through, was my righteous anger. But if this evil person could show remorse, maybe she wasn’t so evil after all. And that meant maybe my anger wasn’t so righteous. In a single sentence, she turned my ideas of good and bad, right and wrong, upside down. I know now that was a gift, but in the moment, it felt like she had taken something from me. I was startled and still too bitter to fully process her apology, so I did something I will always regret.

I failed to forgive her.

I think I said, 'Uh, okay.' Then I went and hid in the bathroom for awhile. Months, or even years, later – I would realise what an incredibly rare thing it was, that apology. It was a powerful moment, and I squandered it.

Since that time, I have unsuccessfully tried to track her down, to tell her I forgive her and I think she’s brave. So I accept her apology in the next best way I can – in my writing. I try very hard to paint my bullies in shades of gray, to give them enough heart or humour to make them relatable – or at the very least, enough to give the reader hope that they may grow up to be decent human beings someday.

If it hadn’t been for that encounter with my own bully, I know I would not write my characters the same way today. So if I ever find her again, I owe her more than forgiveness. I owe her a thank you.

Read our review of Butter