In 2022, Woody Brown became UCLA's first minimally speaking graduate when he earned his bachelor's degree in English with top departmental honors, but his journey to higher education was not an easy one.

"I grew up a mighty weird autistic kid who was presumed to be retarded because I couldn't speak," he shared in a 2021 interview with the UCLA College. "My intelligence was not fully acknowledged until I went to Pasadena City College, where they accepted me and my upward trajectory began."

While Brown can say aloud a handful of scripted phrases - often repeated in a high-pitched pattern known as echolalia - he primarily communicates through a letter board, which his mother transcribes. Using this method, he wrote his first book, "Upward Bound," a novel centered around an adult daycare program in Southern California and the rich inner lives of its participants, neurodivergent and otherwise.

The UCLA Department of English will welcome him back for a May 13 reading and Q&A moderated by professors Mona Simpson and Justin Torres, who won the 2023 National Book Award for Fiction. Simpson sees Brown's mainstream success as an opportunity for readers to glimpse lives that remain widely misunderstood.

"People go to literature to find out what it feels like to be another person," Simpson said. "That's what Woody has done in his book: With his words, he's given us the ability to see - and remember - that other people are real."

In this Q&A conducted over email, Brown reflects on his path to publication, the perspective that shapes how he moves through the world and what lies ahead in his writing journey.

What does it mean to you to return to UCLA?

It has only been four years since I graduated from UCLA, but my life has become something I could not have anticipated. The book I started working on here is now on bookstore shelves as a New York Times bestseller, and people seem to like it. My feelings on returning are mostly that of gratitude: for the excellent education, the acceptance I felt from students and professors, and most of all for my mentor, the marvelous Mona Simpson.

What does your writing schedule look like?

I work in the mornings, doing meditation, writing and reading with my mother. We work until lunchtime. In the afternoon, I have appointments and whatnot. It's a productive and regulated routine, and it works for me.

How can people do a better job of listening to and understanding neurodivergent individuals?

It is important to shed your preconceived notions about what an intelligent person looks like. People often assume that I am intellectually disabled because of the way I look and behave. I wish that an assumption of competence came first.

Autistic people often have difficulty saying what they mean. In my case, the words I am able to utter sound like childish gibberish, unrelated to what I intend to say. Let the minimally speaking person spell out their thoughts. If the person isn't spelling yet, get them a letter board and get going. They have a lot to say. For us, communication is a vital human right, literally a matter of life and death.

Lastly, make room for the neurodivergent person in your life, on your team and in society.

What do you remember most about your time as an undergraduate in the English department?

I liked all the reading - not the papers so much, but it's important to know how to do them. The impetus to be familiar with the canon of literature is excellent. A writer needs to have the greats of the past in his back pocket.

What has the response to "Upward Bound" meant to you - and how has it shaped how you see yourself as a writer?

I don't think of myself any differently. I've always been a writer, and even if no one had read my book, I'd still be a writer. The response is very gratifying, but I honestly don't want to hear it. It makes me self-conscious.

How do you think about disability, identity and your place in a much larger world?

My basic position is to avoid self-pity. I realize that most people I meet struggle with something I may not see from the outside. My challenges may be more visible, but that doesn't make them inherently more difficult than anyone else's. It's not a contest.

I think of pity - and especially self-pity - as a form of weakness. Compassion is strength. I like to think of myself as coming from compassion toward myself and everyone else, even anti-heroes and antagonists.

You've shared that you're already working on your next novel. What can you tell us about it?

"Alfie" has been a delightfully challenging undertaking. I am tackling the large, ungainly topic of friendship, mainly focusing on the obstacles to camaraderie when communication is imperfect. It is more autobiographical than "Upward Bound," which doesn't make it easier. I want to do right by the precious people I honor in it.

What advice do you have for other aspiring authors of all experiences?

The best lesson my autism teaches is the value of routine. I adhere to routine just to stay calm and grounded. My routine fuels my writing as well. I have a time to meditate, a time to write and a time to read. When done every day, I don't need other motivation; it's just what I do in the appointed hour.

My favorite writer is [Haruki] Murakami, and I understand he also thrives on routine and isn't very social, so I am in great company. Routine may sound like rut if you've never lived that way, but I find it productive and liberating.