Happy Birthday to Me!
Today marks one year since I started AutCasts, thank you for joining me for this ride!
Today is not actually my birthday, although November does mark my birthday month. Rather, today marks the first anniversary of AutCasts!
I find it hard to believe that I have been writing AutCasts for a whole year. This is the most successful and enduring attempt at writing a blog/newsletter I have ever made and, while I had hoped to have made a slightly bigger splash by now, I am so grateful for 300 of you who have joined me so far, the people who read these posts every week and those who send their support and comments.
Welcome to AutCasts, a free bi-weeekly newsletter by writer, Aisling Walsh, exploring neurodivergence through cinema’s oddballs, misfits & rebels!
I was planning/hoping to have a new essay for today but the post-PhD burn-out has well and truly caught up with me and I have been barely able to string any coherent thoughts together. The situation in Gaza has absorbed a considerable part of my emotional and mental energy over the last month and I have found it hard to set my mind to anything else. Like many I’ve been at a loss for words as the genocide unfolds in real time despite unprecedented social outrage and public protest.
I don’t have much to add from my last post, except an invitation for readers to stay informed and support any of the multitude of solidarity actions happening across the world. I will share
’s recent post from the Foreign Bodies newsletter again as it remains one of the most extensive round-ups of resources I’ve come across:In lieu of my lack of inspiration for delivering more movie commentary this week, I thought I’d put together some thoughts on what I’ve learned through writing about neurodivergence over the last year or so.
Writing is hard…
No news there, I’m afraid. I’ve spent the last few months (years?) plagued with doubts about my writing, wondering if I’ll ever really be able to make a go of this lark or if I’m just wasting my time!
When I started AutCasts I had so much to say that I needed to get out that I was posting every week. It soon became clear that newsletter up-keep in the final months of a PhD was not really feasible and so I dropped back to one essay every two weeks and for the last few months my posting has been even patchier. Between the PhD, the ups and downs of chronic illness and executive (dis)function, my ability to stick to a writing and publishing schedule has varied tremendously over the last year, even though AutCasts was, and is, one of the things I most enjoyed writing. I’m hoping to get back on track, but I’ve also had to learn to go easier on myself about sticking to the arbitrary writing goals that impact nobody but my. I realised that the world will not end if I fail to write about Ghostbusters during spooky season!
Rejection is even harder…
Anecdotally 2023 seems to have been a woeful year for writers! I have seen man, many writers on social media saying how 2023 has been the year of rejection and, unfortunately, I have to concur. Beloved publications have shut up shop — Jezebel became the latest victim today — and those remaining seem to be just about surviving!
I have felt this in multiple ways: I had a story accepted by Catapult in January only to find out a week later the magazine was closing, multiple editors have turned down pitches saying they have no budget for commissions and don’t even get me started on the ghosting! In this climate it’s hard to know whether my extra-large stack of rejections is purely circumstantial or whether it has anything to do with the fact that I have been more open about my autism (hello paranoia, my old friend).
I have the increasing suspicion that autistic writers are meant to stick to a very limited range of ‘diagnosis’ or ‘living with autism’ narratives. Meanwhile, publications which have rejected many thoughtful pitches about the complexities of neurodivergence continue to publish narratives centring on neurotypical parents’ experiences of their neurodivergent children. Even though these tend to be more along the lines of, ‘I’ve learned to accept/enjoy my child’s neurodivergence’ than ‘my child’s neurodivergence is a curse,’ it still centres parents’ experiences. It’s as if autistic adults are not out there living our own lives, with our own thoughts and experiences to share. As a writer with multiple interests the idea that all I’ll be able to publish in the foreseeable future is ‘look I’m autistic’ articles is a truly depressing prospect.
Despite this I have managed to publish a few things this year (incidentally about autism) that I’m proud of:
Jezebel (RIP) let me indulge my childhood obsession with Barbies this summer;
Anomaly Press published a response to the Hannah Gadsby backlash;
Publisher’s Weekly featured a Soapbox column on autistic representation and the Booker Prize!
Not bad, considering I was finishing up my thesis as well (welcome to the insane world of neurodivergent over-achievement where writing a thesis is still not enough)!
Changing narratives is the hardest!
What has become clear to me in writing here and in trying to pitch to other outlets is, that despite the growing neurodiversity movement, neurodivergence is still a niche topic, of little interest outside of the neurodivergent community. I find it sad, but unsurprising, that the wider world remains indifferent, and sometimes even hostile, to alternative narratives on neurodivergence.
Things are getting better, but certain stereotypes of ADHD and autism, in particular, are extremely hard to shift. The tendency to reproduce the most reductive and harmful stereotypes remains and the room society gives to alternative understandings of neurodivergence is terribly small. Between the backlash against Hannah Gadsby, this year’s Booker Prize nominees and JK Rowling’s latest controversial offering, it’s clear that the mainstream media landscape cares little for autistic people and our lives. The fact that so few media outlets are willing to counter these narratives is a sad reflection of the wider social indifference and that it’s still the norm to speak about and for disabled people in ways that would be considered unacceptable for most other marginalised groups. Alice Wong wrote a great article for Publishers Weekly on the disability representation in publishing, more generally.
I have considered giving up this newsletter many times over the last year. Nevertheless, the fact that nuanced representation of autistic people in books, films and TV is still severely lacking, and the fact that there is so much canonically neurodivergent art that is not recognised nor celebrated as such, has kept me going.
Growth makes me uncomfortable
It’s not that I don’t want this newsletter to reach more people, because obviously I do, I just worry that the overwhelming emphasis on pursuing expanding platforms, audience and subscribers ultimately impacts quality, creativity and enjoyment of the writing process. It’s too easy to obsess over whether I’m reaching enough people, or growing my audience rather than honing my craft.
I hate self promotion and after seven years in this game I can admit that I’m basically rubbish at it. I don’t know if this is a double empathy thing, the fact that I just don’t quite “get” the language of social media or that being an openly queer, feminist and autistic woman simply does not encourage a huge following.
While AutCasts has been the most successful of my many attempts at blogging, reaching a wider audience remains an uphill struggle and the pressure to “grow, grow, grow,” usually coming from this platform itself, gives me the ick. I mostly write for myself, to process life and to put the thoughts I cannot keep to myself out into the universe. If these resonate with people, great. If not, so be it.
I do believe writers should be paid for their work, but I also don’t think we have to monetise everything! I try, outside of this newsletter to get paid for what I write, but here I like having the freedom to write what I feel without worrying about editorial oversight or giving paid subscribers their money’s worth. The spectre of imposter syndrome still looms large in my life and I fail to believe there is enough wisdom or worth in these emails to merit charging people for access to my thoughts.
People surprise you
My very real autistic tendency to overshare, in real life and online, often makes me worry that I’ve gone too far, said too much or been too vulnerable. I’ve gotten better over the years in managing my filter to protect my safety and comfort. But there are still times when I’ve found it hard to judge the line between honesty and self-cannibalism. Nevertheless, I’ve been bowled over by the number of people who have reached out to me here, across other social media platforms or in personal correspondence, to say how much they’ve enjoyed reading these essays. I know all too well the effort it takes to write to a stranger with kind words but that is the kind of boost that keeps me going, so thank you!
My most popular posts and the ones which have resonated most with others, are often the ones I would have never have expected! These include my post on The Truman Show and masking and teenage angst in Talking Head’s Stop Making Sense, which has clocked up nearly 2500 views! Neither of these are favourite movies but the popularity of these essays has taught me that often it’s the pieces I’ve spent least time thinking over, the ones I’ve just written from the gut, that resonate most with people.
My favourite posts however, remain some of the early ones, when I was just getting into the swing of writing, as well as educating myself, about neurodivergence.
Writing about Jaws I got to indulge another childhood obsession, this time with sharks, and celebrate another movies where the nerds and outcasts win:
Then there was Alice in Wonderland, the movie which was the genesis of this whole newsletter:
Alice is either too big or two small for her surrounds, she says and does the wrong thing, speaks too much or too little, too low or too high, she makes repeated cultural faux pas and pisses off the people in charge. Alice and the creatures of Wonderland all speak the same language but somehow they are missing vital messages. She can barely find the words to explain her frustrations and few of the inhabitants of Wonderland have the interest or patience to listen.
If you liked what you read, please consider subscribing (for free) or sharing this essay. As an independent writer it’s the best way to support my work!
Happy birthday to AutCasts <3 so glad to have your writing in the world!
Just a quick note to say that it's NOT just you. I also have a towering pile of rejections from this year, and the accompanying worry about WTF I'm doing. I had a piece published this week and, almost immediately, got another rejection! I would be lost without having this space to write the things I care about even if no editor would ever commission them.
Hearty congratulations on a great first year! I'm excited to read more.