The parallel journeys of Emily and Elizabeth allow author Rodriguez to explore two different expressions of depression, and show her deep understanding of the manifold ways that depression affects people.
While Rory’s portrayal isn’t flawless, it’s well researched, and a significant step in the right direction of treating autistic characters as regular teenagers and integral parts of the cast.
The writing and characters are wonderful, but if you’re looking for a book about depression, I’d pass on this one.
The notion of people faking disabilities is not at all new or novel–and, like many, many disability tropes, it’s a harmful one.
Blind characters seem to always go too far in either one direction or the other—either completely ruled by their disability, or completely unfazed. The truth is, I hate both, because neither is honest.
An exceptionalist narrative might, at first glance, seem like a positive or even empowering one. But, as it always goes when it comes to depictions of disability, the situation is much more complicated than that-
What about readers like me, who never see their own illnesses depicted? To see story after story where depression draws a straight line to suicide is, for better or for worse, expressing that depression only functions in one way.
What kind of tips do our contributors have for authors seeking to respectfully write disabled characters?
Since our founding exactly three years ago, we’ve built up an impressive bank of reviewed titles. Now, we’re making the search for good representation even easier.
It’s hard to believe, but it’s been a whole year since Disability in Kidlit was first launched. We’re so excited for this milestone and so grateful for all of your support.