The Average Autistic

There’s a line in my play, The Duck, that I keep mulling over. It says, “File it away for later; the things for me and the things for the rest of the world - the unreal and the real.” It’s something that haunts my memories of being a young autistic girl. I needed to learn … Continue reading The Average Autistic

Trying to make the World a Better Place

I haven’t written anything for a while - my literal side wants to correct that; I am constantly writing: I have been writing emails and blurbs and all sorts of things to get people to engage and want to see my writing, but I haven’t been writing. What is it about the marketing of creativity … Continue reading Trying to make the World a Better Place

Unwelcome Guests

I’ve welcomed in an old friend this morning, and she’s happily making herself at home. At the moment she’s lying over my chest making each breath a shallow grab.  I don’t like her, but instead of kicking her out, I’ve fed and watered her, and you know what happens when you feed someone; you make … Continue reading Unwelcome Guests

Swimming Uphill

So what’s it like spending a weekend camping at a Fringe Theatre Festival, when you’re autistic? Tiring. That’s probably the word. Tiring both physically and emotionally. I am so glad that I went, and so frustrated that I didn’t have the energy to do more, to see more, to connect more. I hadn’t been to … Continue reading Swimming Uphill

The Duck: An Autistic Play

I’m in hiding. I don’t have time to be in hiding, it’s possibly the worst thing I could be doing at the moment, and yet hiding is where I am.   I feel like I opened the floodgates because a beautiful butterfly fluttered by, and now the waters are rising and I can’t get the … Continue reading The Duck: An Autistic Play