Tinweth

Forum romanum

Oil on canvas

"Hey, I'm going to kill both of you."

"why are you unlocking the door?"

in a few days (or maybe hours), this experience will be normal for me, and then i will stop appreciating it as fully. i will need to pay rent, send emails, be a person. the patient splendor of ivy will be rote again.

i am not unaware of the metaphor. my therapist and i drink hot chocolate together over our video call. i was talking about how sometimes the days lap against each other, grey and muted, pale in their similarity. "this morning," i say, "the sun came through the trees. and i could see it."

Wanted to make a little Gertrude icon <3

"if you can't cite your sources is it really a special interest?"

yes. "special interest" does not mean the same thing as "expert" or even "knowledgeable". it refers to a certain type of emotional relationship an autistic person has to a subject area (e.g. can't stop thinking about the thing, is emotionally soothed by the thing, etc). many autistic people may struggle to remember facts and figures for any number of reasons, but may still experience a special interest. honestly, these kinds of misinformation about what a special interest even is feels like a reinforcement of the savant stereotype, and I really do not like that

"who is this post even aimed at?"

this post is about two related phenomena I have seen both in online and offline spaces:

someone is asked for a source for a piece of information -> "source? it's my special interest". this is unhelpful because it does not provide any additional information, and is also a really easy way for misinformation to spread

autistic people saying things like "I don't really have any special interests because I don't really know anything". this is sad to me, because it is a sign that people are denying themselves the joy of a special interest just because they'll never have encyclopaedic information about the topic. your special interest is still special even if it isn't expertise

"what if I use my special interest as motivation to become an expert (i.e. receive xyz qualification)?"

well now you are an expert! congratulations! this should also provide you with enough information to know that "it's my special interest" is not the same as a citation. however you should also be aware that not all autistic people will become experts in their special interests, and you should not hold them to that standard

you'll say "i think children shouldn't be forced to eat food they hate" and here comes someone who feeds their kids plain rice and boiled chicken (while eating a nicely seasoned stirfry) claiming that it's okay actually and kids shouldn't be allowed to taste things

You’ve met her before. The girl with “flowing ebony hair,” “emerald eyes,” and “lips like rose petals.” Or him, with “chiseled jawlines,” “stormy gray eyes,” and “shoulders like a Greek statue.”

We don’t know them.

We’ve just met their tropes.

Describing physical appearance is one of the trickiest — and most overdone — parts of character writing. It’s tempting to reach for shorthand: hair color, eye color, maybe a quick body scan. But if we want a reader to see someone — to feel the charge in the air when they enter a room — we need to stop writing mannequins and start writing people.

So let’s get granular. Here’s how to write physical appearance in a way that’s textured, meaningful, and deeply character-driven.

1. Hair: It’s About Story, Texture, and Care

Hair says a lot — not just about genetics, but about choices. Does your character tame it? Let it run wild? Is it dyed, greying, braided, buzzed, or piled on top of her head in a hurry?

Good hair description considers:

Texture (fine, coiled, wiry, limp, soft)

Context (windblown, sweat-damp, scorched by bleach)

Emotion (does she twist it when nervous? Is he ashamed of losing it?)

Flat: “Her long brown hair framed her face.”

Better: “Her ponytail was too tight, the kind that whispered of control issues and caffeine-fueled 4 a.m. library shifts.”

You don’t need to romanticise it. You need to make it feel real.

2. Eyes: Less Color, More Connection

We get it: her eyes are violet. Cool. But that doesn’t tell us much.

Instead of focusing solely on eye color, think about:

What the eyes do (do they dart, linger, harden?)

What others feel under them (seen, judged, safe?)

The surrounding features (dark circles, crow’s feet, smudged mascara)

Flat: “His piercing blue eyes locked on hers.”

Better: “His gaze was the kind that looked through you — like it had already weighed your worth and moved on.”

You’re not describing a passport photo. You’re describing what it feels like to be seen by them.

3. Facial Features: Use Contrast and Texture

Faces are not symmetrical ovals with random features. They’re full of tension, softness, age, emotion, and life.

Things to look for:

Asymmetry and character (a crooked nose, a scar)

Expression patterns (smiling without the eyes, habitual frowns)

Evidence of lifestyle (laugh lines, sun spots, stress acne)

Flat: “She had a delicate face.”

Better: “There was something unfinished about her face — as if her cheekbones hadn’t quite agreed on where to settle, and her mouth always seemed on the verge of disagreement.”

Let the face be a map of experience.

4. Bodies: Movement > Measurement

Forget dress sizes and six packs. Think about how bodies occupy space. How do they move? What are they hiding or showing? How do they wear their clothes — or how do the clothes wear them?

Ask:

What do others notice first? (a presence, a posture, a sound?)

How does their body express emotion? (do they go rigid, fold inwards, puff up?)

Flat: “He was tall and muscular.”

Better: “He had the kind of height that made ceilings nervous — but he moved like he was trying not to take up too much space.”

Describing someone’s body isn’t about cataloguing. It’s about showing how they exist in the world.

5. Let Emotion Tint the Lens

Who’s doing the describing? A lover? An enemy? A tired narrator? The emotional lens will shape what’s noticed and how it’s described.

In love: The chipped tooth becomes charming.

In rivalry: The smirk becomes smug.

In mourning: The face becomes blurred with memory.

Same person. Different lens. Different description.

6. Specificity is Your Superpower

Generic description = generic character. One well-chosen detail creates intimacy. Let us feel the scratch of their scarf, the clink of her earrings, the smudge of ink on their fingertips.

Examples:

“He had a habit of adjusting his collar when he lied — always clockwise, always twice.”

“Her nail polish was always chipped, but never accidentally.”

Make the reader feel like they’re the only one close enough to notice.

Describing appearance isn’t just about what your character looks like. It’s about what their appearance says — about how they move through the world, how others see them, and how they see themselves.