We start out believing writing is a solo act. A conversation between ourselves and the page. And in the beginning, it is. But once our words leave our hands — whether they end up in a blog, a novel, a public reading, a stage, or a newsletter — the work becomes relational. That’s where responsibility begins.
Writers are funny creatures. We crave imagination, curiosity, and creative freedom — and then, without meaning to, we quietly tuck ourselves into the smallest possible corner. We sort ourselves into genres. Neat and tidy. Manageable. Predictable. But creativity is not predictable. And it is certainly not tidy. And while familiarity feels good… it doesn’t make us better writers.
Neurodivergent brains (ADHD, AuDHD, dyslexic, spicy-brain, rainbow-coded, whatever label fits your flavour) don’t always think in straight lines — we think in constellations. If you’ve ever tried to write from that space, you’ll know the frustration: You’ve got ideas — brilliant ones — but they’re stacked like shopping bags on your arms and one sneeze away from collapse. This is where brain-dump writing comes in. And yes — it is supposed to be messy.
