For the average reader, it’s easy to feel a connection with a good book. When an author includes a specific type of representation in their work — and does it well — that creates a certain magic for the reader. Read on to discover the books that make the Bookstr team feel well-represented and why we love them so much!
Trigger Warning: This article discusses abuse, mental health, trauma, and eating disorders. Please exercise care while reading.
Under Rose-Tainted Skies by Louise Gornall
This book follows a high schooler who is homebound due to crippling OCD and agoraphobia. She’s isolated and fearful of everything. A new neighbor moves in and slowly begins to give her a reason to face her mental illness and take back control over her life, not for him, but for herself. It’s a love story, but I would argue it’s mainly about personal growth and challenging yourself/your mind.
For me, this book spoke to my fight against mental illness. While my identity is not my illnesses, they are a part of who I am and how I experience the world. I read the book long before I received a diagnosis for OCD or agoraphobia. I had no idea why I felt trapped in my own mind, why I couldn’t go to the store or school without breaking down. Reading the book was particularly impactful because I was at a point in my life where I couldn’t leave the house, I couldn’t function, and I was so alone. I identified with the main characters’ thought processes, fears, and desperation.
Reading further expanded my perspective on my own experience, as despite the character’s obvious challenges and limitations, the book encouraged the idea that you CAN fight back. You can challenge yourself to engage in your own life and pursue more for yourself, even if you’re fighting against your own brain, even if the progress is painfully slow. It also affirmed that engaging in that battle is worthwhile. The book helped me come to terms with the fact that I am more than what I struggle with, and my life is bigger than it feels. It gave young me back their power and resilience when I had given up on life.
– Jess Malony, Graphics
Rose Madder by Stephen King
Rose Madder by Stephen King tells the story of Rosie Daniels, a woman who escapes her brutally abusive husband, a lieutenant on the police force, after 14 years of silence, fear, and insanity. With only a “stolen” bank card and a bag of essentials, she flees into the unknown on foot, slowly reclaiming her identity and strength in a new city hundreds of miles away. There, she discovers a mysterious painting that becomes both a literal and symbolic gateway to healing trauma.
For readers who have experienced abuse or longed for escape, Rose Madder can feel deeply validating. King portrays Rosie’s trauma, survival instincts, and gradual empowerment with unflinching honesty. It offers a sense of recognition to those who’ve endured the uncertainty and dared to run toward their own light. So much of what happened to Rose happened to me, so her journey represented mine in several parallel ways.
I spent the last six years of my childhood with an extremely abusive (in all ways) stepfather. I ran away the week I turned 18, in a sudden spurt that prompted my escape and did not bring me to look back. This novel was one of the books I had to keep hidden under a loose floorboard, as reading anything other than homework was not allowed. To say this book didn’t make me fantasize about getting away from my abuser would be a lie. It became very much a source of strength for me, a story about an abused and broken woman finding the courage and strength to “wake up” and leave her abuser, culminating in a rebuilt life and a backbone strong enough to fight for it. Thanks, Stephen King…. You’ll never know what you’ve done for me.
– Erin Dzielski, Editorial
After the Fall (How Humpty Dumpty Got Back Up Again) by Dan Santat
This may seem like an odd pick, as it’s a children’s book, but it is honestly one of the most moving and meaningful narratives on trauma I’ve ever read. I have both PTSD and pain from several physical injuries and hospitalizations throughout my life, but many of the narratives on trauma I had read before this book seemed to focus on how much the main character was suffering after their experiences. In this book, Humpty Dumpty is “broken,” but he is actively trying to find ways to enjoy the things he loved before his trauma occurred. This all culminates in a breathtaking twist ending that felt so cathartic on my first read that I burst into tears (thoroughly confusing my child, whom I was reading the story to at the time). I’ve shared it with several other people living with PTSD since, and they’ve all had similar reactions.
To this day, it’s still one of my favorite books, regardless of the intended audience age. It captures something about trauma survival that many other stories just don’t: recovery isn’t about trying to recapture who you were, but learning to embrace the new version of yourself that you’ve become.
– Cara Broel, Editorial and Outreach
A Psalm for the Wild-Built by Becky Chambers
I love this book so much as it came to me at the right time. I was depressed and stressed at a time when I was struggling to find work. Not only was the message behind this book incredibly comforting (you don’t need a purpose to exist, you can just live) but the dynamic between the characters was completely adorable — something straight out of a warm sunny day (or a cosy autumnal day if that is your preference), or a Studio Ghibli movie. Please do yourself a favour and read this!
– Olivia Ackers, Editorial, Outreach, and Graphics
Brother of the King Consort by Amizah R.
When I read this book for the first time, I immediately connected with the protagonist, Salem. Practically down to the last detail, I related to this woman. I’ve always been the picky-eater type ever since I could remember, and I can’t even put into words how shocked I was to see a fantasy protagonist be a picky eater as well! She also prefers to wear her hair in a ponytail for sensory issues, and I always do, too, for the exact same reason!
I felt comfortable with this character with all my heart because of how much it felt like I was seeing myself. And Cassian is undeniably the best partner for her simply because he understands her. Like tying her hair up when she gets frustrated, making her meals exactly how she prefers, and even adapting to her routine on how she specifically organizes her things. This series is undeniably worth your time!
– Sophia Gerneck, Editorial
The Vegetarian by Han Kang
During my sophomore year of college, I was diagnosed with an eating disorder. All throughout my treatment, I felt angry that no one around me understood my experience. To the outside observer, the idea that I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) feed myself properly was incomprehensible. About a year later, after I was out of treatment, I was taking a contemporary literature class when my professor assigned The Vegetarian. I couldn’t believe that she was making me read a book that could potentially trigger my symptoms. The Vegetarian tells the story of a young Korean woman named Yeong-hye who stops eating meat following a series of nightmares. Eventually, she stops eating altogether, and her behavior becomes increasingly erratic; by the end of the novel, Yeong-hye is in a psychiatric hospital pretending that she’s a tree.
I’m incredibly grateful that I had a chance to read this book. Reading Yeong-hye’s story made me feel less alone. Han Kang portrays Yeong-hye as a complex individual with valid thoughts and feelings about her condition, and seeing an author put in the work to write a character in such a way was empowering to me. It was a difficult but necessary read, the most impactful book in my life so far.
– Abby Worthington, Editorial
What books make you feel seen? If you ever need a reminder of your own power, try picking up one of the Bookstr team’s recommendations or re-reading one of your personal favorites. It will do you so much good.
Click here to explore more books with great disability representation.
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