As A Writer, Words Fail Me.

With me it’s always raising an eyebrow and/or nodding. Which results in my characters looking like smug bobble heads in every conversation

me while writing: ah yes, this character should do this, it feels so natural with what they're saying

me while editing: why the FUCK does he lean on the doorway SEVENTEEN TIMES IN THIS CHAPTER

i think a lot of people (even other autistic people) forget that special interests are listed in the diagnostic criteria as restrictive interests (“Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus”) that are often very disabling.

for many autistic people, special interests aren’t some fun thing; it’s having no impulse control and spending too much money on things related to our special interest (if we even have control over our own money at all), it’s struggling with or being unable to hold conversations that aren’t related to our special interest, its being unable to do daily activities such as eat or sleep or work because our special interests take up all our time.

idk. i don’t want to come off as gatekeep-y because that’s not my intention but i just think it’s important to make the distinction between a restrictive interest in autistic people vs just being really interested in something.

Something I'm fond of saying is "The villain drives the plot but the hero sets the tone." Something that's very important about this is that the resolution to the conflicts presented need to match the hero's tone. If your story doesn't believe problems can be solved the way the hero wants to solve them... why is this the hero?

If you want your problems to be solved with brutal catharsis, then your hero should be someone who believes in brutal catharsis.

If you want your problems to be solved with forgiveness and reconciliation, then your hero should be someone who believes in forgiveness and reconciliation.

They don't have to begin there. This can be something they come around to over the course of the story, as they grow and change per their character arc. But by the time of their ultimate encounter with the villain, their values should be the values that drive the story forward.

There's this thing in D&D that some DMs do. Where, when you roll enough damage to deplete the monster's hit points, they'll turn to you and say, "That's a kill. Describe for the group how you take the monster down." And you're allowed to come up with some cool maneuver or something that your character did in order to deliver the finishing blow.

The hero's ultimate triumph over the villain is a lot like this. More than any other part of the story, this moment is their apotheosis. It should be a celebration of everything they are and everything they stand for.

You have defeated the villain; Now describe for the group what form that victory takes.

Writing is like, type type type, clackity clack clack- and whoops im on social media now

Forced Proximity Dialogue Prompts

Haven't done one of these in a while.

"Come on, this isn't funny." "I'm not joking. It's locked."

"Is that the only tent we have?"

"There's only one bed." "Well, darlin', I'm not sleeping on the floor, so I guess we'll have to share."

"I'm your bodyguard. It's in the job description to protect you at all times." "Well, could you at least 'protect' me from over there?"

"You have got to be kidding me. I have to share a room with you."

"What do you mean there's only one sleeping bag? You had one job."

"Quit following me!" "I was hired to follow you, princess, better get used to it."

"What the hell is that noise?" "Uh, yeah, slight problem. We're out of gas."

"Where are you going? We're in the middle of nowhere!" "Yeah! And whose fault is that?"

"Look around, love. In case you hadn't noticed we're snowed in. So unless you plan to freeze to death, we'll have to find a way to keep each other warm."

"I may be stuck with you, but I don't have to like it."

"Is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?"

"Your heart's racing. Now, I know being pressed up against me is exhilerating and all, but I'm trying to concentrate on picking this lock."

"What are you? Afraid?"

"Uh. Slight problem. We're trapped."

"Well, which way, smartass?" "Uh. We might be lost."

You don't need anyone's approval for the stories you write and the art you create. But it's also absolutely valid to want some approval from your audience. Kudos and likes don't determine your creation's worth. But it just feels amazing to receive them.

You ever reach that point when you wonder if anyone will even want to read your story? Because that’s where I’m at. Like I’m in too deep to drop it, but I’m also questioning how insane I was when I started it.

Reading a book: “Ah, yes, brilliant. That totally makes sense. How clever!”

Attempting to write a book: “I am a complete and utter fraud. Who gave me permission to wield words? Someone revoke my keyboard.”

if it's good enough for you, then it deserves to be made. don't let anyone else decide if your story is worth it or not.

Write Believable Intelligent Characters

╰ Let their intelligence show in how they notice things

Smart people aren’t always the ones talking, they’re the ones observing the tiny detail that everyone else misses. They connect dots faster. They clock micro-expressions. They’re already ten moves ahead while everyone’s still arguing about step one.

╰ Don’t make them know everything

The smartest characters have gaps. A genius hacker who can’t do small talk. A professor who’s never seen Shrek. An expert in ancient languages who has zero street smarts. Give them blind spots, and suddenly they feel real—not robotic.

╰ Let their intelligence shape how they argue

A clever character doesn’t always win by yelling louder. Sometimes they cut deep with one sentence. Sometimes they bait someone into proving their point for them. Or smile while delivering verbal chess moves that leave everyone stunned two scenes later.

╰ Smart doesn’t mean wordy

Sometimes the smartest thing your character can say is nothing. Sometimes it’s “Huh.” Or one line that lands like a hammer. Intelligence isn’t just about complexity, it’s about clarity. Bonus points if they say the thing everyone else was dancing around.

╰ Show them solving problems, not just explaining them

Whether it’s picking a lock or defusing a political standoff, let them act. Watching them think on their feet, adapt, and surprise people is way more compelling than giving them long-winded monologues about the history of poison.

╰ Let them struggle with being misunderstood

A smart character might say something that’s totally logical but lands like a slap. Or they assume people see the obvious when they don’t. Intelligence can be isolating. That tension makes them human.

╰ Don’t make them the author’s mouthpiece

If your “smart” character exists to deliver the moral of the story, they’ll feel like a soapbox in a trench coat. Let them be flawed, biased, wrong sometimes. Let them learn. Otherwise, they stop being a character and start being an essay in disguise.

╰ Make their intelligence emotional, too

Book smart is one thing. Emotional intelligence hits differently. Maybe they’re intuitive. Maybe they know how to read a room. Maybe they see through someone’s bravado in five seconds flat. Brains plus empathy? Lethal combo.

╰ Smart doesn’t mean nice

Intelligence can be cruel. Calculated. Detached. Don’t be afraid to let your clever character weaponize their smarts if that’s who they are. Sometimes the coldest characters are the ones who know exactly how to hurt you—and choose not to. Or do.