DeAndra Davis: All The Noise At Once (Autism)

Simon & Schuster/Atheneum, 4.15.2025

I used to read 1,000-page books in under 24 hours. Never because reading for so long

was my initial plan but because words have always been my special interest in every form.

Whether I was writing them or reading them, I loved a good turn of phrase and wanted to

immerse myself in words that took me to worlds beyond that which I could reach on my own.

Now, that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t without its consequences. I definitely forgot to eat

or drink more than once during my binge reading sessions, but I don’t regret them. Even before I was diagnosed with autism and knew what a special interest was, I knew that words belonged to me in a way they didn’t for the other people in my family, or even among my friends, and I was okay with that. It didn’t mean that I went without some teasing or exclusion from others who didn’t understand me, saw me as too much, too extra, too singularly focused.

Those times were the hardest. The times when I had to question if being myself was okay. The times when I had to figure out where I belonged and if I could bring my special interest with me, as it was a part of me and who I was—and still am, or if I had to mask and be something completely different to fit in.

I think Aiden in All the Noise at Once asks himself similar questions that I did when I

was growing up. The difference is, Aiden knows he’s autistic and understands where the

exclusion might be coming from whereas I did not. Still, the impact is the same. What does it

mean to be made to feel like you don’t belong because of who you are? How does it feel to be treated as obnoxious or elitist for knowing too much about the things you love?

This is a main point of conflict for Aiden, and the conflict that sets so many things in this

story in motion. When other people don’t understand you, or are committed to misunderstanding you, committed to seeing you one way when you’re simply passionate in a way they don’t understand, how that can lead to conflict.

Aiden, who is restricted from accessing the focus of his special interest—which is

football, due to the ableism of others, finally gets his shot and still, misconceptions, stereotyping, and ableism cause issues. People around Aiden who assume that he’s being a know-it-all for being knowledgeable about the topic he loves. People around Aiden who see him as cold or uncaring because he is quiet.

Aiden doesn’t mask. That’s the thing that I’m proudest of about him. He doesn’t mask

but, in many ways, he deals with the consequences of others’ ignorance based on that fact.

Aiden, luckily, learns to stand up for himself. He learns to find people who accept him

the way he is. He aligns with those who don’t stereotype him and give him a place of belonging rather than exclude him.

Aiden’s story for me is one of triumph where I can explore what it looks like to not mask

and still find acceptance. To embrace our special interests wholly and be made to feel

comfortable in that instead of looked at as too much. What does it look like to not try to force

ourselves into spaces that refuse to fit us and instead, continue to be ourselves until those spaces realize they’re missing out by not having had us in the first place?

I don’t know what things would have been like if I wasn’t allowed to embrace my special

interest at least at home. I am unsure of who I would have become if I couldn’t sit for hours on

end, reading without distraction, if I couldn’t go to libraries and bookstores and feed my endless habit, if I couldn’t fill notebooks with stories about my own silly characters. I also don’t know what it could have been had I never felt any isolation and felt the need to mask to hide those qualities from others. The thing is that so many other autistic people foster special interests of their own, and some are celebrated for it, especially if that interest is seen as useful or socially acceptable, and some are not, or don’t get to participate in their interests for one reason or another.

Ultimately, I believe that as long as we’re committed to not losing ourselves to masking to fit in, we’ll find the people who foster the environments around us, we’ll build the spaces we need, and we’ll be at home in our special interests until everyone else can finally fit us.

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photo by Briah Christia

DeAndra Davis is New York–born, and Florida-bred. She’s a hopeless musical theater nerd (Wicked is definitely her favorite), a perpetual student and teacher, and always trailed by a kid or a dog because she has way too many of both. She has an opinion for everything, an argument ready, and a hug for everyone, and she thinks you should, too. All the Noise at Once is her debut novel. DeAndra can be found on most socials @DeAndraWrites.