

Kinda echoing other comments in here, to say that lengthy segments where the author is describing the appearance of something can be rather annoying to me. I can’t see it. No matter how many flowery words you use, I can’t see it. I know what it is that you’re describing, I already got a good-enough understanding with the first few sentences. But I can’t see it. Please, please just move on to the actual story.
I really wanted to get into Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. I made it to the point in the first book where two characters spend an extended amount of time in a pitch black tunnel. Oh. My. Fucking. God. I can only take so many pages of “Boy it sure is dark in here” before I lose my patience. I’ve started that book at least 5 times, and could never manage to make it past that section because it’s just so infuriating to read. It’s almost like the book is mocking me, as if to say “Hah hah, get a load of this goober, can’t even see the darkness!”
I don’t blame authors for this, though. It’s not their responsibility to cater their art to my neurodivergence. It’s just a minor frustration I’ve learned to live with. But it’s also part of the reason why I don’t read much for leisure. I think this is why I’m generally more tolerant of films that aren’t as good as the books they’re adapted from, because the alternative is that I’ll likely otherwise never experience the story at all, so I’ll take what I can get.
Robin Williams for me, too. I’ve often used comedy as a coping mechanism for depression, so I always looked up to comedians who spoke openly about their mental struggles. His death hit me really hard, because I thought to myself “if he - with his wealth and fame and success and adoration and near-infinite support system - couldn’t make it, then what hope do I have with none of that?” That news really made me spiral for a bit.
I later learned about the Lewy body dementia diagnosis, and that definitely changed things for me.