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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?

We sat down with NYT bestselling author Leigh Bardugo to talk about her most recent series, its depiction of disability, and more!

Six of Crows portrays disability with incredible nuance; it’s realistic, respectful, and perfectly integrated into the characters and story.

Speculative fiction is work that focuses on difference, work that immerses us in it. But the choices we make when building a fictional world can reflect on the world that we live in now. So how do we worldbuild with disability in mind?

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

An emotionally wrenching book, but a worthy one, and one that treats its autistic protagonist with every bit of the realism and respect that she deserves.

I highly recommend this book to readers with disabilities who enjoy fantasy, particularly amputees. It’s great to see one of our own portrayed authentically and centered as a main character in an exciting adventure.

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?

This series is a fascinating look at how a writer can acknowledge the “magical cure” trope and improve on the portrayal in later books.

I related to Mahlia’s struggle with the harsh words hurled at her because of her limb deficiency — sometimes wanting to prove herself and sometimes wanting to keep her distance.

We invite Courtney Summers to the blog to discuss researching and writing mental illness, disability in her zombie novel, and the lack of diversity in apocalyptic narratives.

Keri’s anxiety seems more of a framing device than anything else; The Shattering doesn’t contain as thorough a portrayal of anxiety as I’d hoped for, though its representations of other kinds of diversity more than make up for that.

Despite reservations about the ending, I would recommend The Rest of Us Just Live Here; it’s a welcome addition to YA novels involving OCD and anxiety.

Heidi Heilig and S. Jae-Jones sit down to talk about the book’s portrayal of bipolar disorder, writing mental illness, and writing with a mental illness.

These magical or futuristic “fixes” seem rooted in a discomfort with disability: many writers cannot (or don’t want to) imagine a life without sight and therefore create excuses to give their character equivalent sighted experiences.

Linette is more a convenient plot device than a protagonist, and disabled readers deserve more. Young Knights of the Round Table is a prime example of incidental disability done wrong.

In science-fiction and fantasy, you invariably run into fictional disabilities and allegories. Do these “count” as disability? What makes them work successfully in a book?

Hanna is a character with bipolar disorder; she’s not “bipolar disorder, the walking human diagnosis.” I think people who share the disease will find something soothing in seeing someone who both manages and mismanages her illness realistically.

An accurate, respectful, and deftly handled portrayal of Tourette’s Syndrome, from an author who has the condition himself.

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.

From a mythology buff’s perspective, I was delighted with Odd and the Frost Giants. From a disability perspective, though, I was confused.

We’re excited to announce our first event of 2016: from March 14 to 27, join us for all kinds of posts about ​disability in science fiction and fantasy!