July is Disability Pride Month—a time to celebrate, agitate, and unapologetically exist as disabled people in a world that would rather pretend we’re tragic side characters. If you grew up on science fiction and fantasy, you probably noticed a pattern: disabled bodies were either “fixed,” killed off for cheap drama, or turned into clumsy symbols of humanity’s arrogance and obsession with perfection.
Newsflash: we are not metaphors. We are not cautionary tales. And we are absolutely not sitting around waiting for your cure narrative.
In the real world, disabled people are builders, rebels, lovers, and heroes—because we are not just a plot device. We are WHOLE ASS PEOPLE.
Sci-Fi Has a Disability Problem
Let’s be real. For decades, science fiction treated disability like:
A fate worse than death (cue Gattaca)
A villain’s convenient motivation (looking at you, Darth Vader)
An easy excuse to show off fancy tech (Star Trek’s “just slap a gadget on it” approach)
But disability is not something to eradicate. Because it will always exist—we will always exist. People aren't just born disabled. Disability is something that happens to most of us before the end credits roll. It’s part of being human. So it’s something to understand, respect, and integrate into richer stories. Because what is a story but a mirror of our existence—all of it, messy parts included?
What if the future didn’t erase us, but embraced us? What if a disabled spaceship pilot got the same heroic arc as an able-bodied chosen one? What if prosthetics weren’t just shiny upgrades, but actual extensions of culture and identity?
Sci-Fi and Fantasy Books That Center Disability Without Apology
Here are books that do it right—where disability, chronic illness, and neurodivergence are part of the story (and never treated like an error to be patched):
The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells
Murderbot is an autistic, anxious, socially avoidant construct dealing with PTSD and sensory overload. As a neurodivergent person, I related so hard to Murderbot's constant need to protect the humans—but please, for the love of everything, can they just shut up and let us watch our shows?
Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O’Neal
I'm not always into contemporary fantasy, but when chronic illness, mental health, and werewolf transformations intersect? Ok, you win, I’m here for it. This book treats lycanthropy like endometriosis. It’s smart, funny, and unflinching about how hard it is to live with a body that doesn’t cooperate—and how a community who loves and understands you makes it bearable. I won't lie - I cried. Because I felt seen. Endo is not only an invisible disability, but in our society many people believe it's fake - an excuse for people with a uterus to be lazy. If there's one thing that will piss you off more than ableism, it's ableism AND misogyny at the same time. Double ick.
The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd-Jones
A dark fairy tale with a protagonist who lives with chronic pain and a love interest who has a literal stopped heart. This was one of the first books I read where the author didn't try to cure the disabled person or use them for a plot device. It was just - a part of that character. This book is more of a late middle grade to early YA book, so if you're looking for something for your kiddos, this is a great read.
Phantasma by Kaylie Smith
This dark romantasy features a main character with OCD—not the “I need my pencils straight” nonsense, but real OCD. The kind that can paralyze your brain. I can’t speak to how accurate the representation is, but it was refreshing to see disability included in a romance without magically disappearing by the end. Also: if Caraval let you down, this might fix it.
The Terraformers by Annalee Newitz
A sprawling epic where trans, intersex, disabled, and neurodivergent characters build new worlds on their own terms. One character has severe sensory processing issues that a corporation exploits, which says a lot about how humans will keep inventing new ways to oppress each other—futuristic capitalism is still capitalism.
Death of the Author by Nnedi Okorafor
A genre-bending story that explores disability, parasocial relationships, and the ways people treat you like a public resource when you’re visibly disabled. Part of the story follows robots trying to dominate each other over petty differences, and honestly…same energy as ableist Twitter threads.
Godkiller by Hannah Kaner
A high fantasy with a protagonist who has a prosthetic leg, and whose disability is part of her life—not something to erase. This one is for you if you love sprawling plots, complex magic, and characters who refuse to be pitied.
The Halfling Saga by Melissa Blair
An own-voices Indigenous fantasy that doesn’t shy away from trauma, addiction, or the ways disability and identity intersect. I love the author's take on how community can both help a person and hold them accountable at the same time. Chef’s kiss.
Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao
This is the literary equivalent of setting the patriarchy on fire with a giant robot. The main character has PTSD and feet so damaged by foot-binding she can barely walk—but that doesn’t stop her from stomping the system flat. (That was an EXCELLENT pun and I deserve a high five.)
Long Live Evil by Sarah Rees Brennan
A darkly funny take on villainy, with a cancer patient who escapes into a story to avoid not her death, but the way everyone treats her like she’s already gone. Sometimes survival is the real revolution.
Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir
Harrow is a neurodivergent, traumatized necromancer with a body that keeps betraying her—but she still takes on much more powerful people with sheer spite. Mental illness isn’t the main plot, but it’s woven through everything. (Good soup, anyone?)
Cinder by Marissa Meyer
My kid was assigned this last year as summer reading, and I listened to it with him and was mad about it. Why? It was a bookstagram bella a while back and I usually avoid those because, well, they're usually not very good. Social media at large doesn't have great taste IMO. But a cyborg Cinderella with a prosthetic foot in a dystopian future where ableism, a pandemic, and xenophobia are discussed in ways that middle schoolers can easily understand and digest while still being massively entertaining? I mean if y'all had phrased it like that maybe I would have picked it up!!!
Our Futures Are Disabled, Too
Disability Pride is not about “overcoming” anything. It’s about existing as we are—inaccessible spaces and eugenic sci-fi be damned.
The future should look like all of us: physically disabled, neurodivergent, mentally ill, addicted, cancer survivors, people with pain that never fully goes away. We exist. Everywhere. So why don’t we exist in more stories?
If you’re a writer, ask yourself: Who is missing from your imagined futures? Why?
If you’re a reader, start seeking out authors whose work reflects disabled experiences—without pity or sugarcoating. Because representation isn’t about checking a box. It’s about building a canon that dares to see us as whole.
Let’s Keep Reading—and Fighting
This Disability Pride Month, let’s fill our shelves—and our feeds—with stories that treat disabled lives as worthy of celebration. Let’s share recs. Let’s uplift disabled creators. And let’s remind publishing that our stories don’t end in tragedy.
Sometimes they end in revolution.
