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Sandra Nickel: The Ugly Duckling (Neurodiversity)

  • Mar 3
  • 3 min read


Levine Querido,  March 3, 2026
Levine Querido, March 3, 2026

"Writing a Fairytale about the Father of Modern Fairytales"


When I first started to suspect that I was autistic, I began reading extensively about neurodivergence. Along the way, I discovered two details about Hans Christian Andersen that surprised me. The first was that his extensive writings and the writings of contemporaries have led experts to believe Andersen was on the autism spectrum. The second was that Andersen said the story of The Ugly Duckling was, in fact, a story about himself.


I was immediately struck by how The Ugly Duckling, a story of social exclusion, is the story of so many neurodivergent children and their yearning for acceptance. I wanted readers, both neurotypical and neurodivergent, to be able to see this. I wanted them to understand that the deeper truths of the ugly duckling’s story were the deeper truths of a celebrated storyteller, and also the deeper truths of children who are different and may be sitting right next to them in class.


But how could I do this?


As soon as I sat down to write the story of Andersen’s growing up years as a usual biography, I saw barriers to relatability. A foreign world. Outdated clothes. The infrequently used name, Hans. I worried that readers might brush off Andersen’s story as “that was a long time ago” or that they might close up as soon as they thought the story had nothing to do with them.


I didn’t want this story to simply be read as the facts of Andersen’s life. I wanted this story to be a portal to deeper understanding. And to do that, I realized, I needed to use the conventions of a fairytale.



Fairytales resonate deeply with readers, because they are the stories of our lives taken down to their barest bones. They don’t sugarcoat things. They don’t skim the surface. And they are never, ever lukewarm. They go straight to the heart of things. Our yearning for acceptance. Our longing for love. Our search for who we really are. And all the while, these tales take place in a world full of villains doing villainous things and where lessons are learned the hard way. 


Because of this, fairytales help us understand our deepest wants. We want to be accepted. We want to find love. We want to find our way. Just as we want all of these things for the duckling.


I also hoped that writing Andersen’s story in fairytale form would provide a safe space to readers. There are elements of Andersen’s growing up years that were traumatic. Casting his story as a tale helps the reader see the transformation of the protagonist as that of an archetype, rather than an individual. The protagonist here, the tender-hearted shoemaker’s son, represents children everywhere who have similar challenges and hopes.





As I continued my writing and research, I discovered a third surprising detail about Andersen’s life. Story-making wasn’t his only driving force. Cutting out shapes was also an integral part of his life.  


As a boy, he began cutting from cloth because that is what was available in his home. But later, he cut from paper. I believe that the repetitive action of cutting was soothing for him. In fact, he often carried paper and scissors with him when he told his stories in public. That way he could focus on the creation of cutouts as he spoke.


Andersen went on to become an accomplished creator of paper cutouts. You can find his work in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. But what I love most is how the wonder of creation and reassurance are bundled together in the act of cutting out shapes. 


My hope is that the readers of The True Ugly Duckling will see how Andersen used his originality, even this reassuring act of cutting out shapes, to find his place in the world. I hope they will take away larger ideas from the shoemaker’s son. That his story will feed their imaginations. That it will show them that our world is not only filled with villains doing villainous things. But it is also a world filled with wonder and possibility.






Sandra Nickel is an award-winning author of picture books. She is honored to be the winner of a Christopher Award, a two-time winner of the Society of Children's Book Writers & Illustrators Crystal Kite Award, a finalist for the Golden Kite Award for Nonfiction for Younger Readers, a Junior Literary Guild Gold Selection honoree, and a Charlotte Huck Award recommended author. She holds an MFA in writing for children and young adults and has presented workshops on writing throughout Europe and the United States.

 
 
 

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