Don’t wait to be perfect. Being imperfect is enough.

Camilla Pang's (neurodivergent) notes on writing

Hello!

It’s so exciting for me to welcome Camilla Pang, author of Explaining Humans and Breakthrough, to the newsletter because I first encountered Camilla’s work five years ago as part of the Penguin WriteNow programme for underrepresented writers! I found her so inspiring, kind and interesting then (all of which are qualities that just shine through in her thoughts below) and that programme had a huge role to play in me becoming a published author, too. Hopefully this newsletter can inspire some more ND writing!

Camilla talks a lot about change below which I found interesting, particularly how neurodivergent people can often be agents of change. As she says, Neurodivergent perspectives don’t just challenge the defaults—they illuminate the real problems underneath them. Spicy, indeed. And another important point: When systems adapt to neurodivergent needs, they often become more humane, more functional, and better designed for everyone.

On that note myself, Callie Kazumi and Lucy Rose did an amazing event with Red Lion Books last week where we discussed our books and neurodiversity and writing craft. I’m thinking of sharing the recording on my Substack so lmk if that’s something you’d enjoy! The launch of my debut novel, These Mortal Bodies, is happening in two weeks on 17th July so I’d love to see you there in person or online.

Back next week with another fab ND non-fiction author x

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Hi Camilla! Does being neurodivergent impact your creative process? And if so, how?

Absolutely. Haha! It’s something to be embraced—and by doing so, you create room for yourself to unmask. Creating is messy; it’s also embarrassing at times. For example, I love to think and sing out loud, dance to shake my thoughts up, perform random experiments, and enjoy the thrill of it. I feel creative when I feel safe, though, and I acknowledge that it isn’t something we can automatically tap into, as if the world is designed to accept it—chair-shaped. There were times when I experimented with not fitting into a role. But then it’s something you can’t (and definitely shouldn’t) change. You can’t overthink or overanalyse your way into a different mind, and trying to do so can hurt. To embrace the creative process, know the difference between rewiring to fit in, versus rewiring to adapt; the latter feels like coming home.

How you respond to the world, what you take in, what you can trust, and how you put all that together—is the nexus of creativity, but also the point of difference for neurodivergent minds. My ADHD means I get intuitively bored when I know something is a dead end, and it’s hard to engage, but once I am in, my autism runs deep. This wholehearted nature of neurodivergence is a beautiful trait and akin to creativity; it makes everything feel endless. I find creativity in places that involve movement, safety to express myself, humility, the fresh air of new contexts, and the ability to link every corner of my mind to something that feels right in a hyperfocus castle. The solution may seem odd or even irrelevant at first, but once the laughs are over, people often realise I was two steps ahead, not behind.

Being neurodiverse means that I am like a sponge for things I care about, so much so that I get butterflies at the thought of starting a project in line with my values because I embody it so wholly. I am like a kid at Christmas, waiting at 5 am to get going, solely driven by vibes and enthusiasm. This is the thing about being neurodiverse: we have to bring our whole selves to work and life, as doing things in parts feels odd. Omg! Sorry, I could literally write a whole book on this question! Haha!

Is neurodiversity a theme throughout your work?

Yes, in the sense that it’s a lens—a viewpoint through which I interpret and understand other systems: science, humans, the nature of life, and uncertainty. I like to integrate the neurodivergent experience with other aspects of life and explore how it can change the way we all think about the world. I care deeply about different minds thriving, and about questioning systems so they adapt to fit us, not the other way around.

In my work as a scientist, I think a lot about how systems can be reimagined to be more sustainable, more inclusive, and less siloed, focusing on pressing, meaningful problems rather than being trapped in smaller, often unaccountable tasks. I’ve found that many neurodivergent people naturally think in terms of big-picture problems, not arbitrary to-do lists. There’s a kind of systems thinking embedded in our way of seeing the world.

In that way, neurodivergence can hold up a mirror to workplaces and institutions, forcing them to confront inefficiencies and outdated norms they might otherwise ignore. When systems adapt to neurodivergent needs, they often become more humane, more functional, and better designed for everyone. It’s not about making space for “different” people—it’s about making the whole structure clearer, kinder, and more effective. Neurodivergent perspectives don’t just challenge the defaults—they illuminate the real problems underneath them. Spicy, indeed.

What’s one piece of advice you would give to aspiring neurodivergent writers out there?

You don’t have to be in the perfect place to write. If anything, it’s good to press on the pain points and make them part of it—to let them be a motivator for change or perspective. Don’t wait to be perfect. Being imperfect is enough. Start validating your experience where you are, now. Otherwise, when you do find the perfect time, you will want to do everything else but write. Jinx the jinx, or better yet, what if I told you that you have already written?

Is there a book (or other kind of art) by a neurodivergent artist that you love and you'd like to draw our attention to?

I am currently reading one called What Design Can’t Do by Silvio Lurosso which is about disillusionment and the wide-reaching nature of design in being everywhere and nowhere. The relationship between generalism and decision-making. Another recent one is called Moral Ambition which talks about how ‘doing good’ is more than intentions and ideas, but creating an environment where you can act on what you care about, which is especially important for people who care so much but ask for social permission a lot.

What’s one thing the publishing industry could do to make things better and more accessible for neurodivergent writers?

Media training and knowing what to expect are always useful. Preparing writers for the rise and fall of books, press, and events—and highlighting how volatile the industry can be—is crucial so you don’t end up blaming yourself.

From personal experience, I often have all my ideas and their links to different fields in a hairball, and so I find formatting, structuring prose, and organising sections very hard to visualise and create. Some people struggle with spelling; for me, it’s the abstract expectations around structure. Much like what “tidy” looks like (as I mention in my first book), finding the right structure for an article is tough when you feel it all at once. Breaking it down piece by piece is almost painful. Doable, but hard—and I need feedback to know whether it flows right. Knowing this and how to get the best out of a person is crucial in having faith in their initial silence. It’s not because nothing is there, but everything.

What are you working on at the moment?

Currently, I’ve been spending time rewiring my mind on a few things. I’m pivoting careers, which means lots of book material in the making, as much as it is placing balloons in the air and waiting for things to land in the right place. I am working on my relationship with time a lot, which will go into a new proposal I have been working on. I’m nervous about it as it’s rewriting a few of my narratives, but I think that’s part of the game when you write something. You have to live it first, be scared by it, then translate it into an experience that others can face who’d otherwise feel too daunted. In this case, it’s about developing moral ambition and doing work that is not only of value but aligned with what you value and what the world needs.

And lastly, how can readers of the newsletter support your work?

Haha, I mean—I don’t mind. I don’t want to ask my readers for anything, since the internet demands so much from everyone. I’d like to think that when they read my work, they will feel less alone and able to find the language to move differently. But support-wise, it’s always nice when people repost a quote, share it with friends, and subscribe. Maybe even buy my book if you aren’t wanting more screentime. But mostly, please keep asking the difficult questions on my behalf and questioning the defaults.