What a great read!

I requested this so I could learn more about the disabled community and I have no regrets. Andrew Gurza's attitude was so positive throughout this memoir/self-help book that I could really feel it in their words. I loved how he isn't afraid to really put himself out there by being a visible advocate for queer and disabled people.

He talks about the ableism he faces as a power wheelchair user, using examples that span from microaggressions (offhanded comments, jokes, assumptions, etc.) to macroaggressions (facilities with limited or zero accommodations for disabled people, etc.). He also describes the daily challenges he faces, especially with tasks that able-bodied people would consider to be simple, like getting ready in the morning or even entering a venue without an accessible ramp.

I wasn't expecting so much sex talk, but I liked that they were very open about their need for accommodations, and how this affects their sex life when it comes to self-pleasure, hookups and dating, especially since they require a part-time caregiver.

I also liked how they talked about their dreams for queer disabled people to be more visible in media, especially on magazine covers and acting in films/tv shows.

This was a very quick read, but it provided a very insightful glimpse into life as a queer and disabled person. If you're looking to learn more about this community, Andrew Gurza's book provides a great introduction to queer disability.

Thank you to Jessica Kingsley Publishers and NetGalley for this arc.

Andrew Gurza's book was quite possibly the most impactful book I've read in 2025. It is a candid exploration of the intersections between queerness and disability. Gurza, a queer, disabled, nonbinary individual, shares personal anecdotes that shed light on the challenges and triumphs of navigating a world often unaccommodating to marginalized identities. ​One of the early revelations is the author's own moment of awareness, "I believe that many of these [encounters] were not meant to be harmful, they were not intended to hurt me as a queer disabled person." For me, this early note was a contemplative moment that set the tone for the rest of the book--that sometimes, even well-meaning behaviors and actions can nonetheless be harmful and, in this case, abelist.

The book delves into topics such as sexual autonomy, self-pleasure, and the inaccessibility of queer spaces, offering both a self-care guide and a call to action for greater inclusivity. Gurza's writing, although a bit casual at times (I was briefly annoyed by this, but got into it as the book progressed) has a quality of honesty and humor, providing readers with a perspective that is both enlightening and engaging. ​

Overall, Notes from a Queer Cripple challenges societal norms and encourages readers to reconsider their perceptions of disability and queerness, advocating for a world where everyone has the opportunity to live a full and joyful life.

Awesome book! It was more autobiographical than I would've liked but had some great points even if I didn't relate to everything the author mentioned. You're so right, EVERYONE deserves a full life, and this includes sex! (If you want it to!) It's HARD feeling cute while disabled, and valued, and even looked at for YOU and not your disability sometimes.
Overall a wonderful book and I absolutely recommend it to everyone, whether you know a disabled person, love a disabled person, or simply live in a world with disabled people. We're humans and we deserve to feel loved and valued and to be taken seriously, not infantilized.

4.5/5

I think everyone should read this book! I hope it finds its way into the hands of queer disabled folks to give them support, solidarity and practical advice. And all of us need more and diverse exposure to the harsh and pervasive realities of ableism as well as queer disabled joy. Bonus: This is a very quick and easy read.

Here is a quote that sums up the author's voice: "I built my career on telling the truth as a queer." And one for the reason this book needs to exist: "I believe ableism persists because people with ableist feelings aren't given places to lay them out - to truly understand where they stem from, and how they have manifested in their lives, instead they are told that it isn't appropriate or it isn't nice… The results of this are an inability to ask questions, people have all these misguided half truths about disability that never get resolved."

Gurza does not gloss over the hard stuff while using a positive frame to tell his story and share his advice and opinions. It's very personal, unflinching, conversational, vulnerable, uncomfortable, and funny. He is unabashedly honest and candid about sex stuff, and in doing so, persistently reminds the reader that disabled people are whole human beings.

I've been learning from various disability advocates about how ableism is one of the most socially acceptable and pervasive types of discrimination so it's not surprising, but when you read it all together you can really see how so many people have done and said some truly astonishingly terrible things in the face of their ignorance, fear and ableism. The daily onslaught disabled people experience must have the potential to be devastating. And yet, the author is gracious and generous with people who have caused them harm as they recounts their stories.

This book lays bare the relentless and psychologically damaging impact of ableism on every part of emotional life, including the way it can make internalized ableism ever present. It presented me with new perspectives on representation, caregiving and advocacy that I am happy to carry with me in different parts of my life and activism. I also learned about the concept of emotional accessibility and that will stick with me too.

Like other disability advocates, Gurza reminds the reader that statistically speaking, most people will face disability at some point in their life, and having that reminder in the context of his stories is powerful.

One caveat: Gurza is pretty clear that their perspective is personal and, like with any identity, the disabled community is not a monolith. His perspective as an AMAB queer person who is attracted to men does make some of the advice, examples and experiences feel a bit narrow, but there is plenty in there that can apply to different folks for sure.

While the book carries a lighthearted vibe and threads of joy throughout, it's a lot of hard stuff. It does end in a positive place and this quote near the end is a good summation:

"These stories were not easy to discuss, but I thought they were necessary for you to hear and for me to tell. I hope that they have made you laugh, cry, squirm, howl, think, reflect and consider all the ways in which disability is a part of queerness, and vice versa. If you are a queer disabled reader, I hope you saw yourself in this somewhere. If you pick this up and you aren't disabled, I hope you learned a lot, and you have questions about what you can do next."

What an important, ground-breaking and comfortingly defiant book. You could feel the author's vulnerability on every page and that was both endearing and upsetting, especially when he acknowledges that he finds it hard to talk about the intersection of his sexuality and disability. And yet, he does. He does so with humility, grace, honesty, self-love and hope. There is so much hope in this book. I literally didn't stop smiling when he wrote the section about his vision for a fully accessible club (sign me up! Heck, let me invest!) and his ideas for TV shows that offered accurate and much needed representation of queer disabled people made me emotional. As a queer cripple myself, there was so much in this book - validation, compassion, and again - necessarily - hope! - but I really hope non-disabled queers read it because then it will be a world-changing book.

Thanks to the author and NetGalley for the early ARC.

I was really hoping to enjoy this book but I simply could not. In discussing queer disabled sexuality the two main points were "how to hire a prostitute" and "how to have your care worker help you masturbate". As someone who works with people with disabilities who get sexually exploited in these exact situations, I simply could not seperate myself from the push towards exploitation as liberating. Although there were great points on accessability, the author also talks about only seeking out able-bodied men in dating and in sex work which to me, read as a lot of internalized ableism.

Andrew Gurza invites readers to check our biases, and to start dreaming about how to start making queer spaces more inclusive, as well as seeing queer disabled people as viable and vital community members. This collection highlights the invisibility in the real world that queer disabled folks face regarding ableism in relationships, autonomy, sexuality, and the ways that palatability plays a central role for disabled people to be more ‘digestible’ for others.

Gurza is explosively vulnerable, sharing moments from both his professional and personal life encountering abelsim(daily), as well as taking us through intended notions of “anyone's welcome” in queer spaces that are used to include everyone but him. He fiercely challenges our microaggressions and postures, especially as we enter into relationships with others in the disabled community. He reminds us that we all deserve to be loved, sought after, and desired, physically and emotionally!

He makes us turn inward and ask questions about what our discomfort towards disability comes from, and if we are engaging and learning from disabled voices. Or- are we only celebrating queer white, able-bodied people? Are the places we enter accessible? If not, what can we do to change that? A challenge to me and others! I flew through this ARC, and loved the prose. Laugh out, epically loud! I encourage others to pick this up and pass it on.

A refreshing read on an important topic. I loved the honesty and positivity but I think the informality of the writing didn't sit well with me. For example the use of (lol) after some humour. However, others may really like this aspect

[a copy of this book was provided to me by the publisher from netgalley. thank you!]

5⭐️

absolutely adored this collection of essays on the authors experience of ableism & sexuality as a disabled queer person.

This book is a must read. Andrew Gurza shares personal stories of his own experiences with disability, ableism, and the queer community in an honest and direct manner. This book is incredibly readable and engaging. It is thoughtful and relatable. I really enjoyed reading this book and it left me with a lot to think about. I highly recommend this book.

This book is very good in bringing ability to the forefront when discussing inclusion in the broader queer community; however, I was unable to get past the author overlooking the exploitation of many of the things he was suggesting. One of which being recommending that disabled people(s) buy sex.

Timely and super important especially in today’s day and age. I really liked the highlighting of the intersectionality and the disability community in this book. There’s so much here for people who don’t know a lot about disability to learn and then there’s also so much for people within the community to grasp on too. I hope it’s adapted for a lot of curriculums and that people take seriously how important this book is.

Well, with a title like that, you can't claim you didn't know what you were in for! This book is refreshingly candid, blisteringly funny, and a must read for pretty much anyone who can either relate to the topic or wants to be a better ally.

Notes From A Queer Cripple by Andrew Gurza is a bold, unapologetic, and deeply personal collection of essays that challenges societal norms and offers a raw, unfiltered look at life as a disabled queer person. Andrew Gurza, a disability awareness consultant and self-proclaimed "queer cripple," uses humour, vulnerability, and sharp wit to explore the intersections of queerness, disability, and identity.

The book is a refreshing and necessary addition to conversations about disability and LGBTQ+ experiences. Gurza’s writing is candid and relatable, as he shares his struggles, triumphs, and everyday realities with a level of honesty that is both disarming and empowering. He tackles topics such as sex, relationships, accessibility, and the often-overlooked erasure of disabled voices in queer spaces. His essays are not only informative but also deeply human, offering readers a chance to see the world through his eyes.

One of the standout features of Notes From A Queer Cripple is Gurza’s ability to balance humour with poignant insights. He doesn’t shy away from the frustrations and injustices he faces, but he also infuses his stories with a sense of joy and resilience. His voice is unique and compelling, making the book both an educational read and an entertaining one.

The book also serves as a call to action, urging readers to rethink their perceptions of disability and to advocate for greater inclusivity and representation. Gurza’s experiences highlight the importance of intersectionality and the need for marginalized voices to be heard and valued.

While the book’s candidness and explicit discussions of sexuality may not be for everyone, it is precisely this honesty that makes it so impactful. Gurza’s refusal to conform to societal expectations of what a disabled or queer person should be is both inspiring and revolutionary.

In summary, Notes From A Queer Cripple is a powerful, thought-provoking, and deeply human collection of essays. Andrew Gurza’s voice is a vital one, and his book is a must-read for anyone interested in disability rights, LGBTQ+ issues, or simply understanding the diverse experiences of those often marginalized by society. It’s a celebration of identity, resilience, and the beauty of being unapologetically oneself.

The title of the book is quite clear, and it delivers exactly what it promises. Andrew Gurza, a queer disabled person, shares their personal experiences with honesty, humor, and insight. Through a series of deeply personal anecdotes, Gurza provides a window into their world, highlighting the challenges, joys, and everyday realities of living at the intersection of queerness and disability.

What makes this book stand out is its dual purpose: it speaks to those who share similar experiences while also offering invaluable perspective to non-disabled readers. As someone who doesn’t navigate the world in the same way, I felt like I was given the chance to see life from a perspective I hadn’t fully considered before. It left me more aware, more sensitive, and with a broader understanding of the challenges disabled queer people face.

Beyond its thought-provoking nature, the book is also an engaging and enjoyable read. It’s both entertaining and eye-opening, making me reflect while also keeping me hooked from start to finish. A truly impactful book that lingers in your thoughts long after the last page.

“A community that so loudly preaches ‘love is love’ but quietly agrees that disabled people don’t belong here.”

I have been familiar with Andrew Gurza thanks to his podcast, Disability After Dark. This book is Gurza at their best, educating others via stories and personal moments to help create the anti-ableist society we so badly need. Gurza educates us about the history of disability (why we treat disabled adults with “kid gloves”), ableism (internalized and externalized), and micro aggressions (things you have to deal with when living in a disabled body). Through their personal stories and moments, we learn about situations of ableism in the queer community. Gurza ends his collection of “notes” by calling for representation- we need to ensure physical access to accessible queer spaces (ramps, accessible bathrooms, interpreters) AND to see disabled queer people in the media. As Gurza says, it’s nondisabled individuals responsibilities to listen and learn from their disabled peers. Thank you for the education Andrew!

Thank you to NetGalley for the opportunity to read Notes From A Queer Cripple: How to Cultivate Queer Disabled Joy (and Be Hot While Doing It!).