
Member Reviews

I loved this book. I feel disabled joy, I feel seen, I feel heard, I feel loved, I feel held. Andrew writes with a hilarious yet informative tone which just makes you feel like youve had a conversation with them, and this made Notes so easy to read. His annecdotes were emotional, because I recognised so much of a universal disabled experience in them, and his tips were genuinely helpful. I cried reading about disability aids as sex toys in the best way - like Andrew expressed, the idea of them as part of the fun rather than in the way is new and beautiful to me. I will be buying a copy of this ASAP, and have recommended to several friends!

HOT. DREAMY. DISABLED. I flew through this book!! It is sooo rare to read something this candid about sexuality and disability. Andrew is so funny and has so much goodness to say. I LOVED all their dreaming about queer disabled spaces in clubs, romcoms, horror films, sex parties, porn, drag shows, music…i want to see all of that!! I soaked it all up. There are so many great stories and anecdotes as well as just so many practical ideas for queer disabled folks like Andrew and myself to BE in queer spaces. I’ve been so self conscious lately about that and it was really encouraging to read and felt good to get some practical tips. I would read dozens more books by Andrew. I want MORE!! Thank you so much for writing it.

Thank you to Jessica Kingsley Publishing and the author, Andrew Gurz for the opportunity to read and review this arc edition of Notes From a Queer Cripple: How to Cultivate Queer Disabled Joy (and Be Hot While Doing It!)
As a Nonbinary person who has lived the last decade with various chronic illnesses that have led to me being in a wheelchair for accessibility and needing aid from my husband, I was curious about this book. I liked how it was bold and came across as being fiercely unapologetic that there are Queer disabled people and we’re often overlooked in various aspects of society but more specifically in the very one we’re supposed to be a part of.
The author uses they/he pronouns which we find out quite far into the book and identifies as nonbinary which makes my the main issue I had with the book be all the more infuriating and take me back to my first years as a late teen and very early 20 something year old experiencing gay bars and clubs back in the nineties and early 2000s. The book felt like it was focused less on the Queer community as a whole where there is a plethora of genders and sexual orientations and instead was male-centric. Why does it make me have flashbacks to those early years, well that’s because I would enter a bar hoping to feel welcomed and able to relax and realise all too quickly that I was in the Viper’s den with it being overwhelmingly full of men and something with M/M sexually explicit imagery and video on display. I didn’t feel welcome or able to let the mask I’d worn in work or college down and be myself because I wasn’t welcome and sadly that was the case in many of the scenarios the author brought up - of course, they’re first person and it is what they have known but it was difficult to relate to it.
I think perhaps, some of the notes that are in the book could have come from other queer and disabled people to provide some more relatability and offer insight into how someone such as myself who is AFAB could overcome something that made them reticent of going out or experiencing Pride or LGBTQ bars etc? It would have certainly made some of the book more relatable to me and I imagine many others, If we’re going to break down walls and remind the world that you can be Queer in whatever manner it may be and also a variant of disability whether it be visible or not:? Then you need everyone’s voice or as many as possible.
Love is Love - should mean for everyone and as it’s become a phrase used by LGBTQIA people and their allies, it should include everyone and that is what Andrew is trying to educate the reader on as well as thoughtful insight into ableism and internalised ableism that I realised I’m guilty of in many scenarios. From sexual encounters to going out with friends and partners, I think we as disabled people often don’t realise we are essentially bullying ourselves and It made me think of how often I will over analyse how me getting ready, the setting up of my chair and public transport or taxis impact a day out. How many times I have said I’m okay about not going because I simply don’t want to add further work to everyone around me.
All incidents of internalised ableism that I’ve disregarded until this book made me think.
What Andrew Gurza definitely has is the ability to make you laugh, to provide humour to situations that at the time no doubt were far from humorous to him whilst showing the reader it’s okay to both feel the way they do but also how to possibly have a redo if you’re ever in a similar situation. For example he spoke about going to a local park to simply enjoy a warm day and have a relax and someone thought he was lost… Of course he wasn’t, it’s near to where he lives and no doubt frequents as often as he is able. I could see myself in that same scenario at a loss for words, because it’s apparent to all that the person asking simply doesn’t think someone in a chair should be able to go there… Many who aren’t disabled would be quick to deny it, to say the person was being helpful and maybe they were but we see it all too often, Like when someone is helpfully pushing your highly expensive and very very important wheelchair for some reason and when questioned, is suddenly on the defensive.
Being disabled regardless of gender, sexual orientation, age etcetera doesn’t mean we’re all incapable of doing things or asking for help.
There are many moments given by the author to make the reader think, whether they are disabled or not - and I agree completely with some of the suggestions given but again , I also struggled with others, for example encouraging a person who has struggled with sexual experiences or intimacy to reach out to a sex worker. Do not get me wrong, I fully agree that they are valid, their careers are important and the stereotypes that have lasted decades need to disappear but it made me uncomfortable and I think could also lead to more dysphoria, and moments that are negative too. It could also lead to injuries because you’ve not built a rapport. I also see that this advice felt once again, very male orientated and exclusionary to other queer people.
There are also incidents the author talks of from his experience and then suggests are okay to do so that felt exploitative and made me feel very unsettled and concerned for those involved in the recollection and for the theoretical from taking the advice. No one should be exploited or have the clear rules of say employment at risk because of you regardless of your disability or not.
All in all there were some very valid points, more needs to be done to help in the talk of disability in the LGBTQ community, places like Pride parades for example should be open to all - from first hand experience? They often aren’t.. There needs to be conversation that goes right to the top of politics and local community in ensuring venues are accessible, again whether they are Queer friendly or not. I also fully agree that there needs to be support for the disabled person to feel comfortable talking about the restrictions their body can cause and along with trying to minimize internalized ableism. I know when I got sick, it was a case of here’s your diagnosis your life has forever changed now,, Bye.

I wanted so badly to love this book.
I was so excited to *LOVE* this book!
Finally, a book that dares to delve into the issues faced by those in two minority groups -- Queer and Disabled. This couldn't have been more perfect!
But the more I read, the more this book about the queer, disabled 'community', the less this felt about the actual queer community and very, very masculine centric (please note, the author does use they/he pronouns). But at about the 60% mark...I had a realization about this book about the Queer, Disabled community....
So I did a search:
Female -- Zero mentions
Woman -- Four mentions, all relating to negative interactions
Women -- Zero mentions
Lesbian -- One mention in a breakdown of 2SLGBTQ+
Trans -- Zero mentions (outside of two reference link titles)
Transgender -- Zero mentions outside of one mention in a breakdown of 2SLGBTQ+
Non-binary/Nonbinary -- Five mentions (this is the authors identification)
Male -- Nine mentions
Gay -- Twenty-eight mentions....
Man -- Nine mentions
This, on top of some statements that are inherently exploitive left me feeling let down and disappointed.
I'm not saying that there weren't some fantastic points made in this book, and questions asked that are great conversation starters, but the continuation of queer culture being so male-centered was extremely prevalent and made this book feel not quite as inclusive as I believe it was trying to be.

Andrew Gurza is funny. You have to deal with society and survive whether your different from someone or not. People suck and sometimes we end up carrying their words and ideas in our heads for far longer than they are in our lives.
I nodded my head from my prone position on my bed so many times that I had to remind myself that I’m not supposed to be moving my head this much (chuckle). You won’t find the magical answers to getting laid here, but you will hear a voice that you can totally relate to. The author shares intimate stories. I love sex workers too - just saying.
Not handicapped? Then read Notes from a Queer Cripple to understand how we live. The struggles that we have to deal with on a day to day basis. This book is a quick and funny read. Gurza puts it all out there to educate and illuminate people being queer and disabled in a world that doesn’t see us as something other than a nuisance.
I love this book.

This gave me a peek into a severely disabled sex life that I really needed.
As a person who is currently getting more and more disabled every year sex is something I do struggle with. I often don't feel sexy when I need supportive pillows. I often don't feel sexy if I can't dress well for a day. Being so dependent on my partner for many tasks definitely doesn't make me feel sexy either. And while Gurza their disability is very different from mine, they show in this book that you can still be hot, cute and wanted regardless of how you function. And damn did I need to hear that.
This book talks a lot about the ableism that Gurza has faced in queer communities. It gave me insight into spaces I assumed that were quite fine, that they are often really not. I haven't gone out much since I started using mobility aids, especially not queer circles. I did however frequent those spaces from time to time when I did feel better. And while I'm sure this wasn't Gurza their intention, it doesn't make me very excited to mingle in the physical queer community again when I get my wheelchair (hopefully soon). But what it does to me even more, is making me feel assertive in my shoes that when I do hopefully go to pride this year, that I feel confident to demand accessibility information. We belong in those spaces and nobody will tell Gurza or me otherwise. This strong message really made me feel empowered and left me with good feelings lasting longer after reading it.
Gurza also talks a lot about how it is to date when being severely disabled. Their negative experiences they talked about really hit me hard, filled me with rage. They talk about how those moments keep coming back up as internalized ableism in their head and damn did I want to give them a hug. It was good for me to learn and see this side of dating, that is unnecessary made so much harder for people like them because of the ableism that's out there. I hope if I ever start dating again I can take these lessons to heart and treat my potential severely disabled partners with love and dignity.
Concluding this book taught me so much, and gave me so much hope. I am immensely grateful this exists and I hope it goes far.

Thank you to Netgalley and publishers for the review copy!
This was such an insightful and informative read that I recommend many, non-disabled and disabled alike, read but especially the queer community.
Andrew speaks about the lack of accessibility in queer culture and how we preach “love is love” while actively excluding disabled people from the community - from the way we view disabled people (to be pitied, or viewing them with disgust or even fear) to not including ramps or disabled toilets at queer clubs or events, or not allowing space for caregivers to attend these events as well.
This was a valuable perspective to add to disability literature.

While I read this as a queer disabled person, I think this should be recommended to everyone. I love that while I may relate to some things, it gives insight into the way that Gurza experiences the world and it is all very well written.

Jessica Kingsley Publishers are fantastic at publishing perspectives which are hard to hear elsewhere, and this is no exception. Gurza is a direct and accessible communicator, and this book taught me so much about the ways the queer community excludes physically disabled individuals.
They are empathetic and funny and honest throughout talking on themes of intimacy and relationships and dating. He weaves personal stories with practical advice for disabled people and allies. I will be recommending this to lots of people, especially as perspectives from people who are power chair users are rare in publishing.

This was a quick yet insightful read at under 200 pages! It wasn’t what I expected at first, but I really enjoyed the author’s voice.
If you’re interested in queer disabled experiences, this is a great pick. There’s a strong focus on sexuality, so keep that in mind if it’s not your thing. That said, I found it thought-provoking, especially as an able-bodied queer person. It challenged me to recognize and unlearn some ableist perspectives.
Highly recommend for anyone wanting to better understand queer disability inclusion!

one of my favorite types of books is non-fiction that reads like a facetime call with a friend.
this book was giving very much that and i loved every second of it. i loved andrew's writing and i really want to read more from them! i really appreciate all the insights and personal anecdotes he gave about the intersection of queerness, sexuality and physical disability- it's really really not something i read enough of. not at all. it's a short read but it's packed with info that's accessible to understand but also not just super easy like it actually stuck with me.
i'm excited to buy a physical copy of this when it comes out!! i recommend this to everyone and should be on the top 10 list of disability activism lit.

This book was lovely and so important. I found this book to be incredibly vulnerable, and there were times where it was hard to read because it was so emotional, but I was left feeling a lot of hope. There was a lot of emotion in this book, as well as a lot of ideas that I think people could benefit from, and I enjoyed the writing.
I hope many able-bodied queer folks read this and learn from it.

A funny and honest look at what being queer and disabled could be like, and is like for one person. The book was written very well, and a lot of the lines had me laughing. While some of the book felt like reading a typical non-fiction book, a lot of it also felt like I was hearing Andrew talk. The writing was so good and natural that the book was easy to read. Beyond that, I think it is an important book to read, and that people can learn a lot, while reading a book that feels like talking with a friend.

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.