Corinne Duyvis

Writing disability respectfully can be difficult, especially in the midst of large, seemingly contradictory conversations about representation. How should frustrated or concerned authors approach this?

We take a close look at the state of recognizable representation of visibly disabled characters on book covers.

To help authors make informed decisions about what language to use, we talk about disability terminology — from outdated words and cringe-worthy phrases to straight-up ableist slurs, and everything in between.

Magic and technology often minimize disability in SF/F. How can authors meaningfully engage with disability and the ways that speculative elements can affect disabled characters?

Our reviewers interview author and Disability in Kidlit editor Corinne Duyvis about disability tropes, survival in the apocalypse, and writerly research.

When we talk about disability and sci-fi/fantasy, the first thing many will think of is the magical disability trope. But what does this trope entail and imply? And how can you subvert it?

While I don’t think disability metaphors are sufficient disability representation, I do think that they’ll come up naturally in many stories, and that they’re relevant to the discussion of disability in SFF.

Although Kurt’s character seems to largely exist to serve the central romance, I was pleasantly surprised by how many pitfalls Perkins avoided in a wonderfully understated manner. Various assumptions and tropes were casually turned over with a single line here or there.

We’re happy to have a chance to chat with Marieke Nijkamp — WNDB VP of finance, autistic author, and previous Disability in Kidlit contributor — about her work and autism in literature.

Autistic people learn, change, and cope like anyone else. However, when a character is autistic, many authors appear to see only one route for character growth: effectively making the character less autistic.

The “autism voice”—characterized by narrative devices and a detached character voice—tends to portray autistic characters as unworldly, hyper-rational blank slates defined purely by a series of unusual behaviors.

As The Real Boy was one of our favorite reads of the year, we couldn’t wait to invite author Anne Ursu over to discuss this wonderful, magical middle grade novel about an autistic boy.

Insecure autistic boy meets thoughtful, magical adventure: The Real Boy is now my go-to recommendation when people ask for books with autistic protagonists.

I truly wanted to love this book—especially as it features one of the very few textually autistic characters written by an autistic author. In the end, though, I was left with mixed-to-negative feelings and a lot of disappointment.

At its core, the Mystical Disabled Person trope is about a disabled character — frequently mentally ill, developmentally disabled, and/or blind — with some sort of unusual ability. This trope is varied, flexible, and depressingly common.

Diversity in children’s literature is often represented as an either/or, without intersectionality; characters can either be autistic or gay, for example, or a wheelchair user or Black, but rarely both. Why is that?

You Look Different in Real Life is a contemporary YA novel in which the broken friendship between the protagonist and her autistic best friend plays a central role–a thoughtfully handled plot thread that we were eager to talk to author Jennifer Castle about.

Clichés, ableist language … what kinds of words, phrases, or situations used in book or character descriptions send up warning flags for our contributors?

If our contributors could tell an author writing a character with their disability one thing – besides “do your research” – what would it be?

Shaunta Grimes’s Viral Nation is the rare YA dystopian novel with an autistic protagonist; we were keen to sit down with the author to discuss the book, its sequel Rebel Nation, and its protagonist Clover Donovan.

The description for this book uses the phrase “brilliant but autistic” to describe its main character, and that’s where our conflicted feelings about Viral Nation start.

Which are our contributors’ least favorite disability tropes?

Pete’s autism is portrayed over and over again as being non-stop pain and suffering. That got incredibly hard to read; do people really think this is what autism is like?

What kind of tips do our contributors have for authors seeking to respectfully write disabled characters?

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.

How do our contributors define the dreaded concept of “inspiration porn,” and how do they feel about it?