by Enisa Haines
Fiction writers walk the path of writing stories. An often different path, unique, for those of us with neurodiverse brains (for example, ADHD, autism, dyslexia, dyspraxia and obsessive-compulsive disorder) that differ in brain function and traits of behaviour. Sure, we may share similar strengths such as a heightened sense for language, seeing things others often miss, and fixating for hours on whatever holds attention, but we often have advantages, like super-developed lateral thinking, that authors like Helen Hoang (The Kiss Quotient) and Ernest Hemingway harness to create definitive voices and vivid perspectives.
On the reverse side, our minds struggle with traditional writing advice - outlining a story from the first chapter to the last in that order, or writing every day for a set number of hours - that doesn't take into account how our minds work, and depending on the neurodiverse diagnosis, they work very differently.
I've thought myself that little bit different, think of it more as having quirks, all my life. And then the diagnosis came (incidental via an MRI for a sleep study I'd volunteered as a control for), and that diagnosis, though a shock, explained why I am the way I am. Agenesis of Corpus Callosum (ACC).
A rarer, less well-known neurodiversity, ACC is a brain difference where the Corpus Callosum (the bridge or white matter coloured blue in Fig. 1) connecting the right and left hemispheres (grey matter) of the brain is either partially missing or fully absent. It may be due to a stroke, a traumatic injury, multiple sclerosis or tumours, surgically severed for severe epilepsy, or agenesis (born with it partially or fully missing).
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| "Fig. 1" by Hoffman et al., from "Corpus Callosum Agenesis: An Insight into the Etiology and Spectrum of Symptoms," used under CC BY 4.0. |
With my Corpus Callosum never formed, information transfer between hemispheres is blocked. To compensate for this, my brain created other pathways. Different, convoluted, creating challenges with processing speed, working memory, mapping out long-term plot timelines, or translating complex visual scenes into literal words.
Adapting my brain to how it naturally processes information has made writing far more fulfilling:
1. Separating 'Brainstorming' from 'Drafting':
Coming up with ideas at the same time as I'm finding the perfect words to type forces the brain to bridge creative vision while executing technical language. The best for me is to split these up. If getting thoughts from my head to my hands feels like a bottleneck, I can use Voice-to-Text dictation tools, speaking ideas or narrative flow out loud first, then going back later and cleaning up the text. Or I can write the 'Zero Draft' first. A draft written strictly for me that tells the story in plain, simple language. Instead of trying to write 'A heavy silence hung in the humid air as she hesitated at the threshold, I can write 'She stood at the door. It was hot. She was scared to go inside.' Once the basic facts of the scene are anchored on the page, the cognitive load drops significantly. I no longer have to hold the image and can instead focus on dressing up the words later.
2. Tackling Narrative and Figurative Gaps:
ACC can make interpreting and inventing complex metaphors, subtle social subtext or highly abstract emotional descriptions feel clunky. For the times when descriptive writing doesn't flow naturally, I can create lists of sensory words (sight, smell, sound, taste, touch) and pull from these lists to build scenes. A clear and grounded, narrative voice is also a plus as we don't always need those complex metaphors to tell the story. Sharing work with a critique partner is super helpful as they can 'flag' areas like pacing, logic, character, where readers lose thread.
3. Managing Fatigue:
Because ACC brains actively build alternative pathways to cross-reference data, writing can cause rapid cognitive fatigue. One solution is working in micro sprints - writing for short structured bursts (15-20 minutes) followed by a mandatory break where I step away from the page or the screen. Another solution is blocking out distractions like sound and what's visible around me with noise-cancelling headphones and pulling down the blind at the window.
4. Embracing a Highly-Visual Step-by-Step Writing Framework:
The gap between seeing a scene vividly and translating it to text is very common with ACC and is often a literal processing bottleneck because I'm trying to capture the whole image at once. Breaking it down like a film director with wide shots (what's the setting, e.g. dark room), close ups (what's one specific detail or object that stands out', e.g. flickering candle), action (what's the first physical movement e.g. she drops the key).
5. External Plot Structure:
Using index cards or sticky notes and moving them around on visual storyboards to to link high-level concepts and linear sequences makes chronological sequencing easier. Instead of planning entire chapters, I focus on micro-steps, writing one sentence describing what happens next, then what happens after that. This stops me feeling overwhelmed by the macro structure.
Sharing this facet of my life wasn't easy, but with neurodivergence becoming more well-known, I thought it may help others with what I call 'sparkly' brains. Is anyone else like me, or has another form of divergent brain?
Love to love: immersing myself in stories
Love to laugh: watching the magpies strutting across my new native garden as if it's theirs alone.
Love to learn: how other writers work at their craft
