A Christmas Disability Book Reading List
Right now you’re probably with your relatives, looking to the future - and maybe even contemplating the prospect of delicious food later this month. The weather outside is bitterly cold - the first time I can really remember it being ‘biting’, for want of a better word - and it’s finally time to look towards a new year. Time to reset and renew. (But snow!!)
For 2023, I want to live with intention - and with nuance.
Usually I set myself a list of goals to achieve in one year - usually around a list of about 10, so there is one to do around every month or so. 100 wpm Shorthand exam has been on the list for the last 4 years - eek. I have wanted to go back to Germany since visiting in 2018 when on assignment.
But for 2023, I want to live with intention; this year I struggled and had to learn what lateral ableism is the hard way. (In essence, other individuals deciding things for me - including intervening over my work - and for some of the time it was because ‘I’m disabled, so I can make that choice for Lydia’ type of thinking.) It’s not okay for anyone to do this, disabled or otherwise - across all facets of life.
So. Bull by the horns. 2023 will be the year - with nuance - to live intentionally. I get to decide, and my autonomy will not be taken away. And I challenge you to do the same.
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December 16th is when Disability History Month comes to an end for another year; this year’s theme is Disability, Health and Wellbeing. (Make of that what you will.)
One of the things that always contributes quite substantially to the state of my wellbeing is… books. (My mother is laughing as she reads this.) In the aftermath of quarantine this year I was utterly miserable, as quite basic skills like raising my arms above my head alluded me; engaging with written words, or even just writing by hand, took time to come back. I had gone back to working too early; I was at the Old Bailey not long after, having to copy out an indictment in shorthand. (Note: not okay - copies should be given.) I remember trying not to sob like a child, as my handwriting was giant, jagged. It was cumbersome to put to paper and later meant I ended up in bed for hours. Too much. Reading books took a long time to come back; the weight pushing down and back was too much, as was holding anything, for too long. I missed it.
2023 is just around the corner… And these are, in line with Disability History Month, a list of books I’d like to read, with a focus on this year’s theme. Christmas is coming, and if you’re looking for a gift for someone, these are my recommendations.
Please note: the links in this section use affiliate links for Bookshop - any purchases will result in a small commission for me, which goes towards the upkeep of this newsletter.
The Autistic Guide To Adventure
How I wish I had had a copy of this book as a child and a teenager. I really wish I had had a copy of such a book; physical sport was not my friend, and I remember being mocked and derided and almost every educational institution for taking part. It was not accessible, and the ritualistic humiliation just made things worse.
Allie Mason has written a guide to all things sporting and adventure wise; if you have an Autistic child, please gift them this. It is brilliant as a concept - and it’s written by an Autistic person, too.
Disability Visibility
Disability is a multi faceted thing - and very often we could be doing better in terms of representation of thus very fact. This is a series of essays; I regret not buying it at the Feminist Bookshop when I had the chance. It’s on my list to read next year.
You Are The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread
Who doesn't love Samantha Renke? I absolutely adore this woman; I use to listen to her podcast with Dan Edge ardently, and I also have her handbag designed in collaboration with Mia Tui. It is so damn accessible to me and my needs! But I digress.
This is a memoir about disability - and her experience of Brittle Bones. This disability is so often not reported on, at the very least not extensively enough, especially here in the UK. I love Renke’s Metro column - and would like to read more of her work. Plus, it’s pink. Can’t go wrong with that.
Sitting Pretty
I am very easily influenced by Instagram and/or Substack in equal measure these days. Lucy Webster, over at The View From Down Here, had previously written about this book - and I was immediately ‘in’. Sitting Pretty is a series of essays to shape a memoir from the perspective of a wheelchair user.
Year Of The Tiger
Year Of The Tiger is written by Alice Wong; it’s a memoir. She’s also the woman in charge of the Disability Visibility project. A memoir around activism surely has a place of everyone’s bookshelf; I also think that the experience of disability is dominated by particular individuals, and this serves as something of a tonic, arguably. I got this when visiting the States as a treat - and it’s my next book I’ll be reading.
Out Now!
Natasha Lipman, journalist and host of The Rest Room podcast: “The Autism Friendly Cookbook is a striking manifesto on the importance of accessibility in cooking. With adaptations front and centre, this book from Lydia Wilkins is sure to become a kitchen staple.”
Steve Silberman, author of NeuroTribes: The Legacy of Autism and the Future of Neurodiversity: “Cooking is one of the foundations of independent living. This charming, inviting book is designed to make this basic life-skill accessible to everyone. It's not just a collection of tantalizing recipes, it's a celebration of autistic community.”
Chloe Johnson, editor at Disability Review Magazine: “A delightful guide full of important information for neurodivergent foodies - we've needed this for years!”
2022 In Pictures
What sums up this year for you in a photograph? I’m with the ‘boss lady’ Carrie-Ann Lightley at Naidex, July; I’m an ambassador for AccessAble. This was a space where I was just allowed to exist, allowed to take part, with no caveats in place - and respect for my access needs, too! I also didn’t have any weird looks over BPPV hallmarks presenting themselves, too - it felt like belonging at last. Without justification.