‘A Perfect Pair’ book project

In an age when neurodiversity is increasingly part of our public discourse, two new works—Knowing You, Knowing Me and Good Morning—offer a rare and deeply personal perspective from within the autistic experience. Written by Paul Lester Swann, an autistic author who answered the call to write and reflect only after retiring, these books form a compelling and complementary pair. Each work is a distinct doorway into questions of identity, meaning, and societal change—but together they invite a broader cultural shift.

The author’s entry into this work was not the result of career ambition or academic study, but a late-life reckoning with authenticity. Upon retiring, Paul Lester Swann found time stretching before him—and with it, the opportunity to dedicate his energy to something deeply meaningful. Volunteering with autistic support services seemed like the right step, but he soon found himself troubled by what he observed.

Despite the frequent use of terms like “neurodiversity” in professional environments, Paul noticed a disconnect between language and practice. Autism, though often described with compassion, remained framed as a problem to be managed—a disorder requiring intervention, rather than a valid and complete way of being in its own right. That discomfort became the spark that lit the fire for Knowing You, Knowing Me.

Far more than a personal memoir or how-to guide, Knowing You, Knowing Me is a philosophical exploration rooted in lived experience. Paul Lester Swann draws from his autistic perspective, but also from a rich inner world shaped by Buddhist insight and Western philosophical thought. The result is a nuanced examination of what it means to be human, to be different, and to belong in a world that often privileges sameness. It is, in essence, a call to reframe our understanding—not only of autism, but of normality itself.

Yet as Paul Lester Swann wrote, he realised there was another kind of book asking to be born. Something more accessible, more symbolic, more attuned to the visual and emotional resonance that speaks so clearly to many neurodivergent readers. That second book became Good Morning, a mythical, visually rich narrative that weaves together themes of autism, ecological grief, and the human longing for transformation.

Good Morning tells its story through metaphor and layered imagery, offering a dreamlike lens through which to contemplate some of the same ideas explored in Knowing You, Knowing Me. But here, those ideas are given a mythic pulse—one that connects individual difference with planetary crisis. The author sees the two struggles—recognition of neurodivergent minds and the urgent need for ecological renewal—as profoundly linked. Both, he argues, are blocked by the same social inertia: a deep cultural resistance to change, even when change is vital to survival and justice.

Because of this shared root, Paul Lester Swann considers these books not as isolated projects but as “A Perfect Pair.” One speaks through thought and reflection; the other through image and story. Together, they offer a dual invitation: to reflect more deeply on the structures that shape our sense of what is “normal,” and to imagine new ways of being that honour both the mind’s diversity and the earth’s fragility.

For readers looking for a thoughtful, intimate, and quietly radical rethinking of autism, Knowing You, Knowing Me opens the door. For those drawn to narrative and symbol, Good Morning provides an imaginative space where neurodivergence and ecological consciousness meet. As companion pieces, they challenge us not just to see differently, but to live differently.

Through both books, this autistic author offers a quiet but powerful manifesto: neurodivergence is not an illness. It is not a flaw. It is simply another way to be human—and perhaps, when paired with a greater sensitivity to the natural world, it offers a vital key to reimagining a better, more inclusive future.