Oh, man. I'm finding this book very difficult to write about. I really want to like this book. Before I was a librarian, I wa…Oh, man. I'm finding this book very difficult to write about. I really want to like this book. Before I was a librarian, I was a disability rights advocate; and of the many experiences that I had during those six years, one of the most intense and formative was supporting a young woman my age who had CP and was nonverbal. She was a client and then a friend, and much of our time together was spent supporting her to learn how to use a speech device to communicate in her own words. She passed away a few years ago, and I miss her. Our friendship, and the experience of supporting her to learn to speak using her own words, necessarily colors my reading of this book and others like it - so that's why I feel the need to include it in a book review. My family experience with disability in general and CP in particular changes my perspective too. It makes me an unobjective reader, and prone to judge the book on my own experiences - so of course, take my review with a grain or ten of salt. Please excuse any rambling! So as a reader, and in my librarian life, I frequently look for books for teens and kids that star characters with disabilities. There are truly wonderful ones (Rules) and terrible ones (So B. It). I particularly keep my eyes open for books that star characters with depth, complexity, and personhood, rather than ones that use people with disabilities as a foil or plot device acting on characters without disabilities. And I frequently get irritated at authors who write ridiculous, inauthentic portrayals of PWD (*cough* So B. It *cough*). I know that gifted authors can write anything -- whether or not it's close to their own life experience -- but I have found that for the most part, authors who write what they know about PWD rather than what they've gleaned from inaccurate pop-culture representations, tend to write …