My Brain Writes in Every Genre at Once

Thinking of a genre is like trying to bottle lightning when your brain’s already halfway to the next storm. My main love has always been Victorian Gothic — the eerie elegance of Edgar Allan Poe mixed with the pulse-racing dread of Stephen King. I live for those stories that crawl under your skin and whisper in your ear long after you’ve turned the page. But here’s the thing — choosing a genre when you’ve got an ADHD brain is… complicated, to say the least.

Sure, I know what I love: dark mansions, flickering candlelight, ghosts that might just be metaphors for guilt. But then I think — what if I added a steampunk twist? Or a touch of tragic romance? And that’s when the avalanche starts. Suddenly, my head’s full of clockwork hearts, star-crossed lovers, and haunted laboratories, and I’m left wondering — do these worlds even belong together?

And yet, maybe that’s the magic of it. Because with ADHD, inspiration doesn’t walk in a straight line — it sprints, leaps, crashes, and twirls. One second I’m in 19th-century London fog, and the next I’m in a neon-lit world where ghosts haunt machinery and love bends time. My mind doesn’t like to choose a lane; it builds a whole intersection and directs traffic with a caffeinated grin.

It’s like walking into an ice cream shop and seeing every flavor glistening under the glass. You know mixing them all is a terrible idea — but you have to taste each one, brain freeze be damned. Writing with ADHD is exactly like that: chaotic, messy, and wildly flavorful.

Because sometimes the best stories aren’t the ones that fit neatly into a genre — they’re the ones that refuse to stay in just one.

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