By Liv Harrison, Tessa Thejas Thomas, and Erin Martínez Hazlett
For UK Disability History Month, which runs from November 14th to December 20th, we look deeper at the phenomenal covers of books that celebrate, showcase and illuminate the disabled experience.
Some Like it Cold by Elle McNicoll
Set in the small town of Lake Pristine, Some Like it Cold tells the story of Jasper Montgomery, a young woman with a secret who returns home to say goodbye for one last time. However, when she runs into her rival, bourgeoning filmmaker Arthur Lancaster, she wonders if she is making the right decision or whether Lake Pristine may be her forever.
Designed by Rachel Vale, this cover is instantly recognisable as a playful romance, a fun, light-hearted read and a trope-filled homage to the romance titles dominating the charts. Think Emily Henry, Laura Jane Williams and Beth O’Leary; you’ll see what I mean. From the bright colour palette to the casual font, we quickly understand what we can expect from McNicoll’s YA romance debut.
However, there is more to this cover than what initially meets the mitten-covered eye. Firstly, it significantly differs from McNicoll’s other covers, A Kind of Spark, Like A Curse and Keedie, quickly establishing her in a space different from where we would typically find her: children’s fiction. Vale highlights here that this is a more grown-up endeavour than what we typically see of McNicoll, even if similar undertones exist. Secondly, Jasper is the cover’s star, and we – as the audience – get a sense of who she is. I initially thought it looked like she was playing hide-and-seek or even waiting for a surprise, but after reading the book, I realised Jasper’s pose highlights a key theme of the story: masking.
In the spirit of spreading awareness, the National Autistic Society describes masking as a strategy used by some autistic people, consciously or unconsciously, to appear non-autistic to blend in and be more accepted in society. It can often lead to feelings of being overwhelmed, exhaustion and potentially even delayed diagnosis. For Jasper, she is hiding her true self from her family and friends, her parents in particular, because that is what she – and many other autistic people – have been told and taught to do. As the reader, we want her to feel she can drop her hands, be vulnerable and remove the mask so she can live authentically for and as herself rather than with the expectations other people have placed upon her (except for Arthur, of course…).
Expect to see this wholesome title everywhere this winter; it’s already had some incredibly positive reviews. Let’s hope we see more autistic representation in romcoms going forward. I cannot wait for the sequel!
Where You See Yourself by Claire Forrest
Where You See Yourself by Claire Forrest is a fun, romantic coming-of-age story and a Schneider Family Book Award Honor Book. The novel follows Effie Galanos as she navigates senior year, a turbulent time filled with college applications, crushes and endless questions about the future. We see her experiences with internal and external ableism throughout the book.
The stunning cover design gives the reader an insight into Effie’s current life and her hopes for the future. The illustrative art style compliments the coming-of-age themes throughout the novel and portrays the feeling of being young. Effie is depicted looking at herself in her bedroom mirror. The reflection, however, shows her in the college she aspires to attend in New York. The use of lighting and colour is different for the reflection in the mirror compared to the current world. The current world is depicted in black and blue, drawing focus to the reflection. The reflection has elements of pink, beige, burnt orange and green. The contrast makes it apparent that Effie dreams of this new reality.
The font on the cover is big, bold and striking. Although we see parts of Effie’s identity within her room, such as the framed pictures and books, we also see what she envisions in the future.
Poor Little Sick Girls by Ione Gamble
Ione Gamble was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease just weeks before her twentieth birthday when there was a shift towards one of today’s particular brands of feminist empowerment on social media: obsession with personal branding, productivity and wellness. In her collection of essays – part memoir, part social criticism – she ponders how this movement falls short for everyone, especially for disabled women.
On the cover, the titular “sick girl” is lying down, covered in a blanket, and scrutinising her face in a hand mirror. Next to her is a table littered with an assortment of items commonly found on TikTok or Instagram skincare accounts, along with her medication, an asthma inhaler and what looks like the leg and the head of a Barbie doll. These items clash to show us the reality of Gamble’s situation, the collective pursuit of women to self-improve, self-critique and, to a certain extent, to want to look like Barbies. It then confronts its unachievable nature, particularly for chronically ill and disabled women.
Authors don’t always have a say in their book design, but it is no surprise that Gamble fought to use this illustrated cover by the brilliant Polly Nor. Nor’s work is perfect for this novel, reminiscent of graphic women’s memoirs, contrasting a cartoony style with profound themes of self-acceptance and inner turmoil. Her illustration also has an undeniable and dark sense of humour, reflecting Gamble’s writing style. The flat colours with no shading, texture or gradient communicate the candidness and straightforwardness with which she approaches these topics and does not hold back from the reader. This is a book that should be on everyone’s bookshelf!