Book Review: Parallel Play

(Hey folks, I've moved!  Please find the new site at Wordpress!  This will be one of the last posts on Blogger- I hope you like the new site as much as I do!)

Parallel Play: Growing Up With Undiagnosed Asperger's, by Tim Page, is a "my life with autism" story from one of our older survivors.  The book mainly deals with his childhood, as the title suggests, and is written in the typical autistic conversational-explanational tone that so frequently graces our literature.  Mr. Page's prose is more polished than most, I would say, which is likely due to his many years of wordsmithing.  

I call this autistic generation The Lost Generation, personally, because few of these autistic people avoided institutionalization, and those that did typically suffered immensely.  Autism was simply not understood, let alone supported.  There was no community to which we could find advice from others like us.  No comradery and fellowship.  No support services designed to meet our needs.  

Those of us that survived without being sent to the destructive prison-institutions typically bear scars and unhealthy adaptations from the experience.  Depression and anxiety are common.  For this author?  One of those unhealthy adaptations is a fixation on death.  This isn't uncommon for autistic people- anything can turn into a hobby or fascination.  Morbid subjects aren't unreasonable, especially when a close family member (such as the author's grandfather) dies when the autistic person is young.  

In the author's case, there are no gory details to be had.  His interest in the subject included a much-heightened fear of death and interests in deceased authors, musicians, and silent films.  I suspect this book would be quite a nostalgia trip for an older person, especially one that grew up in the Northeast US at around the same time.  In that sense, I am very much not the target audience.

One thing is painfully consistent regardless of generation, though.  The pain of living in a world that constantly misunderstands and willfully rejects you is clear throughout this book.  You can see this same pain in Liane Holliday Wiley's writing.  Both Tim Page and Liane suffered immensely, and neither of them had any kind of fellow autistic community.  They were simply alone, and found their way as best they could with other misfits.  

Another painful echo found in this book as well as other autistic accounts was perhaps summarized best by Jennifer Cook O'Toole: "How can I be so smart, yet so stupid?"  Tim Page mentions scoring well on IQ tests (though no specific numbers) a couple times in the book, and inevitably with those mentions also comes a certain disbelief, and the suggestion that his father might have tampered with the results.  I certainly have no special insight into that suggestion, but I suspect Mr. Page, like many people, operates on the idea that IQ is somehow a blanket score for intelligence.  

I strongly suspect I will go blue in the face before I ever finish convincing people that no, it is not.  IQ is a measure of how well a person is likely to learn in a typical school setting, using typical teaching methods.  It does not account for learning disabilities.  It does not cover common sense, emotional intelligence, musical ability, hand-eye coordination, and social skills.  It's a highly restrictive scale that should only be considered useful in highly restrictive settings.  But because of the value people place on it, a person with a high IQ score is assumed to be good at all these other things.  When they turn out not to be, disappointment is about the kindest response I've seen.  Rejection, disbelief, and avoidance are significantly more common.

This aloneness and rejection tends to breed a mindset of "I don't fit in and it's my fault.  If only I wasn't so ____, I would have friends and be happy."  This sense of being wrong and bad is pervasive.  I should know: a part of me still believes that even though it's definitely unhealthy, bad, and just flat-out wrong.  It's the same poisonous mindset as believing that I can't be beautiful because larger women can't be beautiful (except for every other larger woman, because obviously the beauty industry is manipulative and horrible).  

It's exactly these kinds of experiences that make it worthwhile for me to step forward and identify myself as autistic.  Simply knowing "there's someone else like me" is a massive relief and boost to quality of life.  It's why representation in the media, especially genuine representation, is so important.  Parents do better knowing autistic adults, because it gives them a picture of what their kids might grow to be.  Autistic kids can receive that same benefit, but they also can gain courage to be themselves.  Also strategies and insights they might never have had themselves.

In short, they can have the things I never had, and hopefully be healthier and happier humans for it.  We march to our own drums, we autistic people.  Each of us stunningly unique.  One day I hope that uniqueness won't contain a rainbow of trauma as a given.  

Read This Book If

You want to experience a vivid slice of life narrative from an autistic man who grew up in the 50s and 60s.  They were a remarkably different time, those days before the Internet came to everyone's phones, computers, and homes.  This era wasn't my era, but I think there's value in knowing what life was like before the modern one... and in knowing the stories of the Lost Generation, perhaps find something of ourselves.

Book Review: Asperger's Syndrome: Helping Siblings

(Hey folks, I've moved!  Please find the new site at Wordpress!  This will be one of the last posts on Blogger- I hope you like the new site as much as I do!)

The Visual Guide to Asperger's Syndrome: Helping Siblings, by Alis Rowe, is a plainspoken children's book-sized publication focused on helping parents help siblings of autistic people adjust and thrive.  I found this book in the autism section, not the children's section, but it's pretty clear from the font size and pictures where it's meant to go.  At less than 100 pages in large sized font, it's not a long read. 

I picked it up anyway because this is a vastly under-served and under-recognized need.  There are hundreds, if not thousands of books geared towards educating parents and professionals.  Even books specifically focused on other autistics, often written by the same.  But very little has been done to help siblings of those on the spectrum cope with, say, the resentment of regularly being overlooked in favor of handling the autistic child's special needs.  

Sometimes, in the stress of everything that has to be done to manage the finances, support services, and even themselves, parents miss things.  These things can include their own self-care and wellness, and it can also include making time for doing things with just the sibling(s).  This is entirely understandable- after all, every autistic child is different, so there is no one "do this and everything will be fine" guide.  Children are already challenging, even without factoring in unusual developmental patterns and the need for support services, specialized learning, etc.  

Though all this happens unintentionally, it can be really hard on the neurotypical sibling(s).  Anger, embarrassment, jealousy, and frustration are common.  If autism isn't well-explained to the child, confusion and misunderstandings about why the autistic child is treated differently may result.  

This book tackles the job of pointing out common pitfalls as well as providing answers and suggestions as to how to address each problem.  It lists and addresses specific concerns and feelings a sibling might have, which I thought was useful as well as enlightening.  

One thing I particularly appreciated was that the book spends time explaining the difference between a tantrum and a meltdown, which is an exceptionally important concept for family to understand.  For the unfamiliar: tantrums are goal-oriented.  The person throwing the tantrum wants the attention, or wants something (like candy, ice cream, a toy, etc), and when that want is met, the tantrum ends. 

Meltdowns, on the other hand, are a response to overstimulated senses (like loud environments) or other adverse circumstances, and only end when the person has calmed down.  The two behaviors look superficially the same, especially to someone unfamiliar with the person, but should be treated very differently.  

Read This Book If

You're a parent of an autistic child with at least one other, neurotypical child.  This is a tightly focused, easy-to-read book meant to guide parents in helping both their autistic child and their neurotypical child(ren).  It lays out important basics as well as very specific concerns and feelings a sibling might have.  At less than 100 pages and in large, easy-read font, this is a good starting place for a parent to begin with this important, often sidelined, subject.  

Book Review: Start Here

Start Here: a guide for parents of autistic kids, is a booklet available for sale or for free online from the Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN), which is a group of adult autistics and parents of autistic people that got together to educate and advocate for the rights of autistic people.  The book is what it says on the tin: a starting place for parents who've gotten the news their kid is or may be autistic, and are sitting back and going "uhhh, now what..?"  

Like many publications from ASAN, this is written in an easy-to-read style.  Complicated or specialized words are defined.  Important concepts are defined and repeated regularly to ensure understanding.  The writers don't shirk from pointing out the racism and sexism in the system, in addition to the prejudice against disabled people you'd expect from such a book.  

In total, the book is 52 pages long, which is somewhere between a book and a pamphlet, I suppose.  The resource list begins on page 42, though, so you're really only reading about 40 pages.  I agreed with almost everything mentioned in the book, which was a nice change from some of my previous reads.  

Topics covered include: what autism actually is, communication differences, listening to autistic advocates, defining disability, presuming competence, choosing services, and schooling options.  It's all done in pretty broad brush strokes, and with the assumption that the parents in question live in the US.  (This isn't unreasonable, since ASAN mainly operates in the US.) 

My only disagreement with the publication was its section on vaccines.  I'm afraid the subject is a great deal more complicated than this book makes it.  While the overall message isn't... entirely wrong, it's not accurate to say Dr. Wakefield put out a study that said the MMR vaccine causes autism.  He put out a set of case studies, or stories of children he was treating, that suggested the MMR vaccine might be related to their symptoms, including autism.  Case studies are a basis for further research, not a means of determining cause and effect.  By putting out the study, he was simply saying "hey, someone should maybe look into this, because here's what happened with these people."  At no point in that study did he say, "vaccines cause autism" the way people seem to insist.

Also, vaccines are not always 100% safe, and in rare cases, can have side effects.  Even lifelong ones.  Pretending otherwise is absurd, since the VAERS exists to help track these.  I found it kind of unfair that the publication didn't even bother to mention Dr. Wakefield's doctorate.  I suspect this was done to give as little legitimacy as possible to the antivax movement, which some consider him a part of.  Still, it sits poorly with me to continue tarring an innocent man that way.  

Beyond that disappointment, this is a broadly useful resource that I feel fulfills the need it sets out to address.  

Read This Book If

You're a parent of an autistic child, especially a newly-diagnosed one.  More seasoned parents might still be able to use this as a refresher, but overall it's a quite targeted publication.  It's a short read, which is appropriate for an overwhelmed parent, but it covers most relevant subjects in broad terms.  A list of resources is included at the end for further (much needed) reading.  

Book Review: The Game of My Life

The Game of My Life: A True Story of Challenge, Triumph, and Growing Up Autistic, by Jason "J-Mac" McElwain with David Paisner, is the story of one autistic guy's 15 minutes of fame.  It's less than 250 pages, mainly narrated by the autistic guy, with bookends from the other author.  

I found this book deeply disappointing, in retrospect.  Save for the blunt honesty of the star and some of the contributing family/friends, this is pretty much a textbook case of inspiration porn.  The vast majority of the book's focus is not Jason McElwain's life, his childhood, or his future.  It's basketball, and more specifically, one particularly meaningful game near the end of Jason's high school career.  

Jason's favorite hobby and intense interest in the story is basketball.  Terminology from that game is everywhere, including how the sections of the book are named.  It isn't too overwhelming, though I did have to look up how many players are in a basketball team (typically five) to understand why his fan club was called "The 6th Man" group.  

Bits and pieces are given of Jason's life prior to the basketball team, but only enough to give you the faintest amount of background... which is pretty in line with most news articles of the same type.  

A neat feature of this book, which I can now only consider a very extended inspiration porn news article, is that it folds in little pieces from Jason's family, friends, coaches, etc.  It's done in the conversational tone so common to other autistic writing, too, such that Jason will sometimes respond directly to what was said in those miniature pieces, or even vice versa.  

What I found most telling about this book, and where it became crushingly clear to me what I was reading, was at the end of the book, more than 200 pages in.  The writer here, probably David Paisner, calls it "bittersweet."  I'm not honestly sure where the sweet is.

The short version is that Jason's friends have graduated and, as is typical for that age, scattered to the four winds.  He rarely sees even the ones that remained in the area.  He did not graduate high school with a diploma, and at the time of the book, works as a baker at a supermarket.  A job which he seemingly enjoys, but not one where he does anything with the love of basketball and the team that this book is centered around.  

His parents' wish is for him to be able to live independently someday.  It's even said, and I quote, "Forget the sectionals.  Forget the twenty-point game [both things the literal whole point of this book].  That would be the true pinnacle, if Jason could harness his abilities and his growing independence and find a way to make it on his own."  

The twenty points Jason scored in under 4 minutes, the feat that made this whole book and dozens of news stories, ESPN clips, etc, possible... and that's how they choose to talk about it at the end of the book.  "Forget all that, this is what matters."  Talk about buckets of metaphorical cold water.

I think maybe why this gets my goat so much is that in the end, the 15 minutes of fame is over, and everyone except Jason has moved on.  Those 4 minutes and the surrounding time might be the best his life will ever be.  The community rallied around him, everyone celebrated him, and then it was over.

As a somewhat disabled autistic person, many jobs are closed to him.  Expectations are low.  Opportunities are minimal.  If this is all there is, and by the tone of the book, it pretty much is...  that's it.  

Maybe Jason feels otherwise, and I hope he does... but that's really depressing to me.  He'll likely live another few decades, and only have being a stocker or a clerk to look forward to.  I don't see why he couldn't learn to be a coach, or aim to be a team manager for a sports team like he was in high school.  Or, I should say, "I don't see why unless he doesn't want to."  

In the end, this feels like a story of met potential, and then ignored potential.  I'm aware that the 15 minutes of fame is called that because it goes away after 15 metaphorical minutes, but the expectations the other author and his parents seem to have for him are depressingly low.  

I don't know the guy, but I really hope things got better for him after this book was published.  That he did make it to living on his own (maybe with help, maybe without), finding a life partner if he wants one, pursuing whatever dreams he has.  I hope his parents give him the space to do those things, and don't stand in his way, afraid he'll be disappointed, the way his mother did over and over in the book.  

The struggle with autistic kids is figuring out when to let us try and succeed or fail on our own merits.  Because we don't develop at the same rate as our neurotypical peers, it can be really challenging to recognize when it's appropriate to do so.  Some parents will stand between their kids and almost every risk in the world, lest we fail and become disheartened.  Which, counterintuitively, steals our opportunities to learn and grow, and makes future failures extra-disheartening.  

Don't do that.  Let autistic people try things.  Don't treat failure as the end of the world, but instead recognize it as the normal part of life, and the learning experience, that it is.  

And definitely don't grab your kid's head between your hands to demand their attention.  Good Lord what a hideous, tyrannical action.  Jason hated it, and he says so in the book, and I'll back him up.  Don't. Do. This.  

Read This Book If

You want to read an account of a very autistic 15 minutes of fame, and don't mind that it is definitely inspiration porn.  This story is written mainly in the typical autistic honesty and conversational style, and Jason McElwain is quite frank about the way he puts things and acts.  I'm not sure his story has a happy ending, but the 15 minutes of fame and what led up to it are described in a way that almost lets you be there in person. 

Book Review: Divergent Mind

Divergent Mind: Thriving in a World That Wasn't Designed For You, by Jenara Nerenberg, is less of the practical guidebook I expected from the title, and more a work of history, philosophy, and suggestions and guidelines for changing the broadly disabling systems we live and work in.  Please also note that "neurodivergent" includes autism, but it also includes synesthesia, sensory processing disorder, ADHD, and more.  

The book begins with a section which read to me like a defense of the book's existence, which... kind of made me sad, because I've only seen such things rarely, and usually by autistic adults needing to prove their viewpoint matters. The author says that this book was written in response to and in addition to Elaine Aron's "The Highly Sensitive Person," published in 1996.  I suspect that book might also make for good reading.

Once the defense of the book's existence was done, it got into the deconstruction of the words and concepts we use to pathologize people, such as "mentally ill."  The author presents the historical context and evolution of cultural thinking about neurological differences in the recent few centuries.  "Female hysteria" is one of the earlier terms discussed, obviously having its roots in the male-dominated thought processes of the day.  

The book also briefly covers more recent developments, like the rise and overdiagnosis of ADHD.  Generally, the point was that what we consider normal or abnormal changes depending on what's going on in the world and who has power.  There's also discussion of various diagnoses and how they are part of a larger phenomenon that's mainly been sidelined up 'til now.  

Finally, the third section talks about changes that can be made in the self, in the home, and in the workplace.  Again, this book doesn't really specialize in concrete ideas.  I'm not at my best in terms of retaining information right now, but mainly what the author seemed to recommend was, "listen to what you feel you would do well with, try things and keep the ones that work."  That included things like paying attention to the paint colors.  

Something that specifically stuck out to me was the suggestion of figuring out what colors appeal to you and making a point to have them around.  Which just reminded me that I tend to buy everything in blue or neutral tones.  I am currently wrapped in a pale blue blanket while typing this at my computer.  Next to me is a bright medium blue cloth organizer box.  My hair is currently two-toned sapphire and Carribean ocean blue.  My computer background is a blue-hued galaxy.  My water pitcher with built in filter is a dusky dark blue.  My pill organizer is blue.  A lot of my clothes are blue. 

Apparently I've been subconsciously shaping my environment towards easing the burden on my senses for years.  Fortunately, my spouse doesn't mind my very strongly held preferences.  

I mostly liked this book, but I worry it doesn't have a lot to offer people without a lot of control over their lives.  Many autistic people live in poverty so they can get the support services they need.  That situation may not give the person (or their parents) the influence they need to change the paint color on the walls, let alone choose a career that doesn't strain their senses to the breaking point every day.  

I can't argue with the usefulness of at least teaching people to recognize the differences in their senses and experiences, and finding what ways they can to improve their lives.  Adding in a safe room, with colors to relax the person's senses, perhaps textures or smells that do the same, etc, would do pretty much any autistic person good.  

More concrete examples of changes people made in their lives, and how that helped them, would have helped make this book more accessible and useful to a broader audience, in my opinion.  As it stands, this is more of a philosophic piece about changing your mindset away from the disabling and limiting crap we've been fed systemically.  While that's valuable, it's not immediately... actionable, I guess.  

Changing someone's overall mentality is valuable and important, but they have to have the time and energy to devote to it, and my fear is that many autistic people and their parents don't have those resources to spare in these unusually and overly interesting times.  

Read This Book If

You're autistic, especially if you're female, and you want a new perspective on neurodiversity and sensitivity.  I expect parents of autistic people could also benefit from the ideas in this book.  They include history, philosophy, and broad suggestions for improving the experience of home, work, and existing in general.  The suggestions aren't concrete, firm, easy-to-follow ones, but nothing valuable in autism is cookie-cutter anyway.  This book is perhaps aimed at people with influence and means, rather than the average autistic person.  Still, the ideas within can be valuable to anyone.  

Book Review: The Charisma Myth

The Charisma Myth: How Anyone Can Master the Art and Science of Personal Magnetism, by Olivia Fox Cabane, is a self-help style book on increasing your personal charisma.  This isn't a typical autism-related book, but since charisma factors into communication skills, I thought it might be an interesting read.  I wondered if there were tips that might help parents advocate for their children more effectively, and ideas that might help autistic people make ourselves heard and be truly listened to.  

As it turns out, this book does contain some things like that.  There is, in fact, a whole section just on body language.  Including a trick called mirroring, where you match your body language to the other person's, and then gradually shift towards more positive, open body language.  I'm less than fond of this particular trick, as it feels coercive.  But this wouldn't be the first place I've heard of it working.  

The book also helped explain some things about me, personally, though.  Like why I went through most of my childhood without much by way of friends or peer inclusion, but still received some kind of begrudging respect, even sometimes admiration and very thoroughly unwanted attention from some of the boys.  

There are, according to this book, three major pieces of charisma.  They are presence (which includes actively listening to and focusing on the conversation/person at hand), power (how wealthy, influential, intelligent, or socially important you seem), and warmth (how much goodwill and caring you seem to project).  

Now, most of my life has not gifted me with a whole lot of power.  Nor was I a terribly warm person when I was younger.  But presence?  I learned how to listen relatively young, from my mother.  A skilled listener herself, she counseled me that good listening included a genuine interest in the other person and what they had to say.  You don't merely wait until it's your turn to talk, but focus your attention entirely on the conversation and the other person.  And, as this book also mentioned, that people absolutely adore talking about themselves.  

It helps, I suspect, that I'm not really very good at managing two streams of words at once.  When words are being spoken near me, that's where my brain is stuck.  So while most people might be able to listen halfheartedly to someone talk about sports, and still be thinking about this new video game they're wanting to try, I'm pretty much just stuck hearing about sports.  

My personal oddness aside, much of this book involves a significant amount of mental reframing.  That is, changing how you view a situation, a person, or even yourself, using imagery or other techniques.  You do this so that your body language unconsciously changes to be more present, warm, and powerful.  

Maybe it's a bit cynical of me, but the emphasis on using your imagination to wave goodbye to your cares and feelings of responsibility so you can be your warmest, most present self... kind of worries me.  Really, any form of actively setting aside your view of reality so you can choose a magical dream world where people are grateful to you for being late to an important meeting (an actual example from the book) weirds me the heck out.  

The author works with a significant number of CEOs on this subject of charisma, as well as other upper management types, and in all honesty, I feel like those kinds of people need more reality, not less.  The author might say that such people should be getting the viewpoints of others by doing the listening portion of things... but in all honesty, this book is pretty much geared towards an egocentric viewpoint.  "Do this so you can be better, more successful, etc."

Maybe it's because I'm kind of leftist, but the constant "me me me" focus kind of wore on me over time.  I'm aware that everyone, myself included, thinks they're the most important human in the world most, if not all, of the time.  But I also have concerns for those around me, and most of this book only engages with other humans as obstacles or people to be influenced and wowed (because you're so awesome). There's no particular acknowledgment of other people as... well, other living humans, with dimensions and value beyond the superficial "what they can do for me."  The self-centered focus of the book just kind of left a bad taste in my mouth over time.

The book also has only mild concern for the ethics of using charisma to get your way.  There's a short section near the end, and that's about it.  It's framed more as "here's some pitfalls that might make your life harder, so keep this in mind," rather than, I don't know, doing the right thing because it's the right thing to do?  So I wasn't much impressed with that either.

Read This Book If

You want a guidebook to the subject of charisma, or have an interest in increasing your effectiveness as a communicator.  Fellow autistic people, parents, professionals, random others, pretty much anyone could potentially benefit from this book.  The writing is approachable and fairly clear and to the point.  I found some of the mental techniques suggested rather ethically questionable, and the book itself was stunningly egocentric.  But the information is overall good, and can give you a starting point to increasing your communication success rate after you've gotten past the basics of conversation.

Book Review: Switch

Switch: How to Change Things When Change is Hard, by Chip Heath and Dan Heath, is a book about how to make change happen in ways we wouldn't normally think to use.  It's not an autism-focused book, but given how difficult change and transitions can be for autistic people (including me), I found it a useful read.

The book explains the players of making (or not making) a change as three distinct entities: emotions, logical mind, and the situation or environment.  If all three players are in alignment, the change is likely to happen easily.  If not, the change won't be easy, and maybe won't happen at all.

The very very TL;DR version is this: to effectively make a change that'll stick, the person (or entity) needs to be emotionally motivated to make the change.  They need a clear, understandable path to follow to make that change.  And finally, the environment needs support that change.  

To make my own version of their example...  a family with an autistic teenager is  having trouble with getting that teen to do their chores.  The mother has told the teen what chores they're responsible for, but the chores aren't getting done.  Yelling at them doesn't change things.  Taking away their allowance doesn't change things.  The punishment simply makes the teen resentful and sullen.  The chores still don't get done.  

What to do?  Well.  First, we can consider logic.  Does the teen understand exactly what's expected of them, and is there clearly specified day and time by which it must be done?  Are there any chores that routinely get done, and if so, why does the teen manage them but not the others?  Perhaps something could be done to make the other chores as doable as the ones that get done.  

The issue might also be emotional.  Depending on how the expectation of the chores was introduced, the teen may simply wonder why these jobs are suddenly their responsibility when Mom has always taken care of them 'til now.  Reframing the situation might be what's needed.  Instead of saying, "You need to take care of these chores now or else you're in trouble!" an alternative could be noting that the child's friends do their own laundry (or clean their rooms, or whatever), or that it's something that college-bound people take care of for themselves.  These reframe the job as something normal and expected from their peer group, or something to aspire to.  

Finally, there's the environment.  Is there an easily-accessible checklist or some kind of organizational aid they can reference?  Autistic people (and indeed, people in general) can lose the details of things.  Having a visual, accessible organizational system might be the key.  The teen may simply be forgetting what exactly is expected of them or what exactly is involved in their chores.  Spelling it out might be all that's needed.  Or, does the teen have a hamper into which they can put their dirty clothes, transport to the washer and dryer, then take the clean clothes back once they're done?  

The authors describe how each player (emotions, logic, and environment) can stumble, causing a hoped-for change to fail, and also how to remove those stumbling blocks.  They describe situations on a personal habits level, but also country-wide level.  Their ideas work for any size group, or any kind of person, and they give a multitude of examples from all kinds of situations.  

One of their main points is that these suggestions don't require any particular power or influence.  You don't have to be able to make laws, or have millions of dollars to throw at a problem.  You don't have to be a CEO or have the ability to make sweeping reforms to a situation.  The solutions they talk about are more "if I wiggle this piece of the puzzle just so, stuff will change" type deals.  

Obviously, it's not always so simple.  Sometimes you have to wiggle a few pieces, or even wiggle the pieces around the one you want to get at.  Still, the book gives adequate examples.  There's never just one thing you can do with a problem to nudge it towards the solution you want.  Usually, in the "now let's apply this idea!" sections, there's upwards of 6 different ways to solve the problem.  So if the one thing you thought of doesn't work, there's many more options.  

These sorts of solutions could be applied to self improvement, organizational policies, family dynamics, and even to autism advocacy.

Read This Book If

You're looking for a new way to make changes in your life or work.  Maybe you've tried a "I'm going to be healthier this year!" habit and haven't had it work out.  Or maybe you're sick of repeating the same old unhappy patterns with your spouse or child.  This book can give you a different perspective and new ideas on how to change things.  It may take a bit of work to adapt the ideas to work with your life, but it might be just what you need to finally accomplish your goals.  

Book Review: The Journal of Best Practices

The Journal of Best Practices: A Memoir of Marriage, Asperger Syndrome, and One Man's Quest to Be a Better Husband, by David Finch, is a "my life with autism" story.  To be more precise, it's a "how my wife and I saved our marriage, and it all started with an autism diagnosis" story.  

Typically memoirs written by adult autistics are more "full life" stories, including a significant amount about childhood.  This one is quite tightly focused, which makes it unusual among its peers.  The focus on this book is the author's relationship with his wife: how it began, progressed, went terribly wrong, and slowly, painfully, began to successfully mend.  The book puts you inside the author's mind through the years of his experiences... sometimes beautiful and sweet, sometimes petty, cruel, and ugly.

The tone is pretty classically adult autistic.  At this point I think you could hand me any given book of this memoir style, and after 25 pages (or less) I could probably tell you if the author was autistic.  We have a certain type of conversational, explanatory straightforwardness that serves very neatly to identify us, in my opinion.  I couldn't tell you precisely why that would be a thing.  Typically I'd assume it was cultural, and there is indeed an autism community to develop that culture now...  but I developed the same style of writing without being aware of that culture.  

The Journal of Best Practices, as Mr. Finch actually used it while trying to change himself and help rebuild his relationship with his wife, was actually not a book.  It was a nightstand drawer, a notebook, and a motley collection of post-its, odd ends of paper, and flipped over envelopes.  It was the work of years of pain, care, and vulnerability.  

In essence, this is the story of an adult autistic man using his strengths (intelligence, analytical abilities, attention to detail, perseverance), with his wife's incredibly patient help, to overcome his weaknesses (poor communications skills, low innate empathy, difficulty handling change).  

The difficulties Mr. Finch suffered weren't particularly novel when it comes to autistic people.  Many of his struggles I could personally identify with, and all were at least intellectually familiar.  Missing body language, not knowing how to talk to people, not being able to put your feelings into words, not recognizing when your spouse is upset, or when to stop talking... all these things are somewhat common to one extent or another for autistic people.  Perhaps simply to people, I don't know.  I've never been neurotypical, after all.

I did thankfully miss out on some of mess Mr. Finch was required to address in mending his marriage.  Being born physically female and being from a family that, while not exceptionally expressive, at least didn't openly shun emotions... I was never fed the toxic bullshit that teaches people they must simply wall away their upset and never speak of it.  Finch was, and overcoming that vile dogma is a struggle.  Even if the person knows and believes it's a bad behavior to have, it's still difficult to unlearn.

Another point I differ with the author on is the empathy one.  Mr. Finch opines, based on behavior and test results, that he has very little empathy.  That skill (yes, skill, you can learn it) is both poorly defined and varies widely even in the general population. 

You can have a great deal of natural empathy, but fail to recognize a situation that merits it.  Or even having recognized it, truly have no idea how to comfort a person or respond appropriately.  Such people often come across as lacking empathy, even though they don't.  Or you can have a great deal of empathy and be nearly crippled by being unable to turn it off.  The author seems to struggle with the "recognition of circumstances" issue.

There's a couple more things to say about this book.  

First, the author goes very far out of his way to only paint himself as the bad guy in the failing relationship.  Very little time is spared to his wife's personal struggles and bad moments, save as understandable background.  For example, she had a bout with post-partum depression.  This, he talks about, but only in the kindest, most "this was not her fault" way.  Which, for that sort of thing, is quite accurate.  (Post partum depression is nobody's fault.)

However... I am in a marriage that's been on the metaphorical rocks like this at one time.  The problem is never, ever, just one person in the relationship.  And while the wife points that fact out, repeatedly, the fact remains that the description of difficulties and changes were all on the autistic author's side of things.  Nothing (or very little) is said of changes the neurotypical wife needed to make.  

And while plenty of his pettiness, cruelties, anger issues, and other sub-optimal behaviors are described in this book... nothing at all is mentioned of hers, save in a quote or two that... strike me as kind of unkind even though the flow of the narrative doesn't seem to even notice.  

So, I can see why the author would do make the choice to do this.  By only portraying himself as the failure point in the relationship, he avoids any additional damage to his relationship by avoiding literally all arguments about who said what, and what was meant, and whether it should be included or not.  

Point two, though...  is that's not realistic.  Nor is it kind to other autistic people in difficult relationships.  In a difficult time in a relationship, both (or all) members have to be resolved to mending the relationship, and the time and effort that will take.  They have to be willing to take a hard look at themselves- not the other person, themselves-  and say "this needs to change, it needs to change now, and I need to change it."  

So yes, the autistic person needs to figure out a journal of best practices or what have you... but the focus shouldn't just be on that person to change themself and thereby fix the whole relationship.  That's not healthy, not fair, and not kind.  In that regard, I feel this book does a disservice to autistic people.  

In the author's defense, this is a stunningly difficult subject to write about.  Even with the self-demonizing stylistic choice, such things aren't common.  I presume that's because most people don't care to talk about their personal failings at length.  Especially if a failed marriage or nearly failed marriage is in the picture.  Exhibit A is typing this book review for you right now.  (My spouse and I are doing okay now, fyi.)

The last thing to note about this book is that at no point does the author really gush about his wife or say things like "I love her very much."  Like many autistic people, Finch is extremely practical in his descriptions and appreciation.  He'll tell you exactly why, in detail, his wife is a wonderful human, but won't go into much by way of mushy emotional stuff.  

Which made me wonder if perhaps he's the sort of person that, like many autistic people, forgets to say "I love you" as well as demonstrate that love.  That's a difficult pill for some parents and spouses to swallow, that their loved one simply doesn't feel the need to repeat the sentiment, or even speak it once.  It's the sort of thing that can be taught, but knowing to do so is sometimes beyond us.  

Read This Book If

You want a blunt and honest account of one autistic man and his wife working (successfully) to save their relationship.  Autistic adults would probably get the most from this, but spouses and SOs of autistic people might also find it helpful, as might relationship counselors that want a memoir-style introduction to the subject before learning about the specific people they're going to help.  And of course, anyone in the general population who's interested in such an account.

This is a quirky account that doesn't shy from admitting the ugly that so often occurs with a failing relationship.  It is hilariously entertaining at times, soul-crushing at others.  I found it an emotionally draining read, perhaps because of my own (fairly recent) struggle.  It does, however, have a happy ending, so at least you're rewarded with that after managing the rest.

Book Review: Improve Your Social Skills

Improve Your Social Skills by Daniel Wendler, is a plainspoken, relatively brief, "what it says on the tin" guide, written by an autistic adult who makes a business out of teaching this subject.  Surprisingly to me, since it's such a complicated subject, it delivers.  In a perfect world, this book could be given to every autistic teenager so we'd always have a good place to start from, when social stuff gets complicated.

Topics include how to start a conversation and keep it going, a really basic guide to body language, how to make friendships that are meaningful, how to date, and how to tell stories well.  The book does this in just over 200 pages.  You can thusly guess, then, that it's written to address these subjects very, very broadly.

Even at such a broad level, though, I was impressed with this book.  The subjects it tackles are complicated as heck, yet the author was able to boil them down to basics.  Or the bedrock, as he seems to like to call it.  Almost all of the advice and guidelines in the book I agreed with, or at least thought were a good start.  

I've reviewed a piece from this author before, and like the other one, it's written in the  same, basically accurate but adorably optimistic writing style.  While I don't particularly disagree with any of the information in this book, I suppose reading so much optimism (bordering on idealism) may have clashed with my remarkably pessimistic (read: cynical and depressed in the long term) nature.  I had a similar reaction to watching an episode of the new My Little Pony TV show a few years back.

My personal optimism poisoning aside, Mr. Wendler has a gift for creating visual, teachable metaphors.  The one that's stuck with the most is his concept for creating a successful conversation, which involves making a sandwich from opposite sides of a deli counter.  The conversation is the sandwich, and you take turns with your partner adding ingredients to it before sliding it back to the other person.  It sounds odd, but it made a lot of sense to me, both visually and in practice for how a good conversation actually works.  

A couple improvements come to mind when It's a bit outside the scope of the book, but I would have appreciated a bit more in the section about getting a good therapist.  The scope of the book does not cover fighting through mental illness to learn these social skills.  In fact, it quite literally says, in a few places, that if you're struggling with mental illness, to get a therapist to work on that.  

Which is good advice, and fine, but the section to help you choose one was limited at best.  A good therapist is essential, but you aren't always going to find one that fits well the first time.  Trust is an essential component.  I'm unsure if the author simply hasn't needed to therapist-shop or if he simply didn't consider it important information... but considering that up to 80% of autistic people suffer mental illness, it strikes me as far more important than it was made to be here.  

A last note: like the other one I read, this seems to be a self-published book.  I can't tell you how much that disappoints me.  Not that the book exists, but that it doesn't have conventional advertising or a network to distribute it.  This guide is what a lot of teenagers deeply, truly need in their lives (autistic or not).  Sure, you can buy this book on Amazon, and that's certainly better than nothing.  But this book probably won't receive the publicity and exposure it's due.  

Read This Book If

You want a primer on the fundamentals being social.  This book is light on the "why" of social stuff, but the information it contains is all accurate as far as I can tell.  This is a good book for autistic people, especially teens and up, that want to brush up on the thing everyone hammers on us about: social skills.  I found it a useful refresher, and it has earned its place on my bookshelf.  

Book Review: 22 Things a Woman With Asperger's Syndrome Wants Her Partner to Know

22 Things a Woman With Asperger's Syndrome Wants Her Partner to Know, by Rudy Simone, is a set of 22 short essays around the title's theme.  This is not a long book, at less than 150 pages.  Each essay gives a decent amount of food for thought, so this isn't a quick read despite the page count.  The tone and writing style is nearly conversational, and quite easy to follow, making this a book you could hand to pretty much anyone.  

As you might be able to guess by the label "Asperger's Syndrome" in the title, this is a book about a subtype of autism.  Specifically, women that were given the "Aspie" diagnosis rather than the "autism" or "high functioning autism" diagnosis.  Formally speaking, the difference doesn't exist any more.  The DSM 5 came out about a year after this book was published, and it erased the DSM 4R's existing autistic subtypes.  This book speaks to a subtype within one of those deleted subtypes.  

If this subtype applies to you, your partner, or your grown child, this book may be extremely useful.  It describes various facets of autistic behavior and how they may look in yourself or your loved one.  If the subtype does not apply, the book may still have some use, but it should be read with a salt shaker close at hand (ie: take the advice in these essays with a grain of salt, or in literalist terms, pay extra attention because the advice may or may not apply to your specific situation).

As for me personally?  The AsperGirl subtype seems to describe me fairly well.  Not perfectly, but enough that I'll be handing this book to my spouse and asking him to read it when I'm done with this review.  

The most useful essay for me personally was the 5th one: "Everyone's a critic... but she's better at it than you."  This is a sticking point for me and for our relationship.  I do have high standards and expectations, and those can be hard to live up to.  The essay puts those more in context, and recognizes that sometimes the autistic person simply needs to learn to lay off.  That's probably a lesson I should work on further...

I should note here that this book does not make the mistake of portraying the AsperGirl as perfect in every way, and the reader (assumed to be her partner) as simply not understanding her or not being good enough for her.  The author recognizes that a relationship is about balance, and that AsperGirls can be prone to various failings, including destructive behavior.  

Also, winning the award for Having a Clue, there was a section titled, "Even if you think of her as a woman, she might not."  There is significant crossover in the autistic and nonbinary/trans populations.  I, for example, identify as agender, which is a type of nonbinary.  And I do not consider my gender to be female.  Biologically speaking (sex), I'm female, but that's as far as that goes.  My physical parts have very little bearing on my interests, my values and initiative, and the people I care about.  This essay acknowledges this as a somewhat common.

Having read this book, I regret not looking into the AsperGirl community earlier.  I did know it existed but I guess I didn't put in sufficient time and effort to find it.  With the exception of a couple essays (one of them on motherhood), almost everything in this book accurately described me.  I can't stress enough how unusual that is for a book about autism: a diagnosis that's typically best described as a trashbin (where everything under the sun is chucked).  

Obviously, your mileage may vary.  Sensory sensitivities may vary.  Not every AsperGirl is going to be highly critical.  Coping mechanisms vary.  It's usually a massive red flag when an author gets very specific about descriptions and doesn't have too much by way of open-endedness, but in this case, for this subtype of a subtype?  Seems pretty accurate to me.  

Read This Book If

You or your loved one fit into this subtype of a subtype of autism (Aspie female or assigned female at birth), or are somewhat close. All people with autism are different to some extent, but this book fit me stunningly well.  I could see parents and professionals benefitting from this book, but its audience is very specifically loved ones of women with Asperger's Syndrome.  I did get a lot of good info out of it, which suggests I should look into other works of Rudy Simone's.  At less than 150 pages, it packs a lot of useful information without being overly wordy or wasteful of the reader's time.  Highly recommended!

Book Review: Drawing Autism

Drawing Autism, curated by Jill Mullin, is, at the most literal level, a collection of art and descriptions by autistic artists (some descriptions by their caretakers).  It could also be considered a deep dive into the unconscious minds of various autistic artists.  The contributors are mainly from the US, Canada, and India, but there are a few additional contributors from places like Singapore and Lithuania.  

Art isn't really my thing, so I picked this up more out of curiosity than the genuine desire to immerse myself in art.  Part of the reason I'm not really an art person is because I don't process visual detail terribly well, so to see what everyone else sees in seconds, I have to take minutes.  Then there's the mystique that apparently separates art from whatever poorly crafted crap I doodled in my notebook in school... and in a lot of cases, when I go to art museums, I look at the modern stuff and go, "but why is this art, and why this person over, say, me, or my friend who draws stuff that looks way better?"

Presumably I'm doomed to be an art heathen.  At any rate, I gave this book a fair shake.

The types of art in the book range from Temple Grandin's technical drawings to child's marker scrabbling I might technically have been able to reproduce, to near photorealistic landscapes, to collages.  The emotions covered are everything from joy to deepest frustration and rage turned into petty cruelty.  

After I read this book, I decided I was going to have to go through it and pick one piece of art that I connected with emotionally, because this was going to be a painfully short review otherwise.  So, on page 44, there's this piece, made with colored pencils and pastels.

The artist says he drew this after his niece and nephew died in a fire.  He was so sad and desperate that he didn't have words to express his emotions, so he drew this werewolf.  

This caught my attention because I have quite literally done a very similar drawing, for a similar depth of unexpressable emotion.  I spent about three weeks in college, between doing my summer job, trying to learn how to draw semi-people because the piece wouldn't stop tormenting me until I drew it.  

It actually took me about a half hour to dig up the scan of the piece, find something that could view the Photoshop file, and then screenshot it so you can look at it.  

This is titled "HEAR ME!" and as you can see, I have no formal (and precious little informal) art training, never mind any sense of how wing anatomy works.  The being there is a half-dragon paladin, and she's a character I created in Dungeons and Dragons.  (Why yes, she was a self-insert and that is why her body shape is roughly the same as mine, why do you ask?)  Rather than mourning the crushing loss of family like the werewolf above, she is expressing my despair at the state of the world and the apparent silence of God.  

Funny how that feeling seem to be perennially relevant.  If I were a better artist, I could have put more strain into her form, as she reaches upwards futilely, trying to experience the divine and failing.  But simply getting the anatomy as close to human as it is, was a strain on my artistic talents, so...  It is what it is.  I did try to clean it up, but the fact that I drew it on lined paper kind of means there's only so much to be done there.  

At any rate, the werewolf howling in despair at the moon struck me as markedly similar, and so that's the piece I chose.  

There are very many more pieces in this book, many cheerful ones as well as other less cheerful ones.  There are bright colors and subdued ones, many and varied art styles and subjects, and different levels of realism and seriousness.  If you like art and find meaning in such things, this book has something to offer you.  

Read This Book If

You like art and want to experience the autism spectrum by way of art.  There's 40 plus artists represented in this book, and a dizzying variety of styles, emotions, mediums, colors, subjects, and ideas.  I'm not a big art person myself, but I strongly suspect there's something for everyone in this book, if you're willing to take the time to find it.  

Book Review: Life, Animated

 Life, Animated: A Story of Sidekicks, Heroes, and Autism, by Ron Suskind, is a "my family's story with autism" type book.  While there is a small mountain of these, this one is remarkable for the particular path the autistic person took.  Most of these stories have been about "Aspergers" type autistics.  That's me, and that's most of the people I know.    

Owen Suskind, on the other hand, fell into the most dreaded variant of autism: regressive autism.  That's the one where the child seems to develop normally until a certain point, and then loses developmental progress.  They stop talking or lose tons of vocabulary, their motor skills deteriorate, they stop conveying emotion through body language...  It's a parent's worst nightmare.  Many of these children backslide all the way to being nonverbal, and that's exactly what happened with Owen.  

Most of the stories of this type of autism offer hope in terms of alternative communication devices, finding new ways of listening and seeing from a very different perspective, and above all, an ongoing struggle to thrive in a world not made for humans so different from the norm.  In some ways, this particular story is similar to those.  

However, unlike most of those stories, and thanks to his parents' willingness to incorporate their child's special interest, a literal village's worth of people and support staff, and far more resources and privileges than most families with autistic people have access to... Owen was able to master words, learn to see things from others' perspectives, become independent, and even start dating.  You are brought through the process of all of these developments.

It's a particularly engaging, well-written story, likely because the author's journalism experience is extensive.  Suskind really brings you into the headspace of each family member, including Owen, as much as possible.  You experience the struggle of the parents, the mixed feelings of Walt (Owen's brother), and grow to understand Owen just as his parents do, over time.    

This is probably the best written "my family's experience with autism" account I've ever read, and I've read a hill of them at this point.  When reading these accounts, you always have to keep in mind that the adage about meeting autistic people also applies to their families.  Every family's story will be different.  I just wish every family had the kind of resources and privileges the Suskinds had for this journey.  

Read This Book If

You want to better understand how autism can affect a family (and have a guaranteed happy ending), or want an example of how to channel a special interest (in this case, Disney movies) into helping an autistic person engage with the real world.  The Suskinds are a privileged family in a lot of ways, but their struggle is no less real or valuable for that fact.  What they managed, together, shows what could be done for every autistic person, and the good that might result.  (There is also a documentary, for people who prefer video to books)

Book Review: Come As You Are

Come As You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Transform Your Sex Life, by Emily Nagoski, is not the usual fare for this blog, but... given how often autistic people miss out on proper sex education, the sections about the stress cycle (which are sadly highly relevant to autistic people), the importance of the subject overall, and the excellence of this particular book, I'm making an exception.  

Fair warning: this is a book about sex.  If the subject makes you uncomfortable, you may feel you should skip this book.  Quite frankly, I strongly suggest you don't.  This book contains information you would typically need to pay a therapist thousands of dollars to obtain over a very long period of time, and only after you're literally at your wits' end (because that's typically the point at which people stop putting off getting help for this sort of thing).  

Also, while the book's cover suggests it mainly covers sex from women's point of view, the information therein is useful for all sexes (intersex people exist) and all genders (hi, I'm agender!).  My spouse and I read this book together, and it cleared up a lot of falling down points we'd had around the subject, as well as improving communication between us overall.  It'll take time to improve our actual sex life, since the book revealed some serious issues we have to work through, but I fully expect positive changes and a better relationship as a result.  

One of the key points that's stuck with me?  Sex is not a drive.  "Sex drive" is a common phrase to refer to peoples' desire to have sex, but the phrase is wrong, and worse, it's harmful.  Drives, you see, are things your body demands in order to live.  Food, air, and water, for example.  However, there are zero cases of someone dying because they didn't have sex for X years.  (There are cases of people believing they're owed sex, and because of inadequately supported mental illness and access to deadly weapons they definitely didn't need, killing people and/or committing suicide over it... but that's significantly different).   

Pop culture and media teach us that the hero always gets the girl (and the kiss, and the sex, etc).  And somewhere between that expectation that women throw themselves at the hero as soon as the hero succeeds, and the stigmatization of men who haven't had sex and/or aren't some kind of sexual genius with dozens of partners, this idea that sex is a physical need came into play.   

However, the research shows us this is wrong.  Sex can be pretty great, but it's merely an incentive-reward system, not a physical need.  Another thing that fall into this category is "tasty food" or snacks, which you might find yourself wanting even when you're not hungry.  

There are a lot of really helpful insights in this book regarding how much context matters (a lot!), your physical parts (are normal!), and how stress affects everything (also a lot!).  Shoutouts to the parts that talk about brakes and accelerators, which was easy language for my spouse and me to adopt in our discussions.  

I found the sections on the stress cycle especially helpful.  Autistic people like myself are often under a great deal of stress.  The Japanese saying is, "The nail that sticks up gets hammered down."  Meaning, roughly, the person that doesn't fit in is going to get a lot of abuse until they do.  You can probably guess how I feel about that, but the point is that this book will teach you, broadly, how to allow your system to let go of that stress.  The specifics are up to you, since you have to find what works best for you.  

I could probably go on and on about the insights in this book, but in all honesty, the author will do a better job of explaining them than I would.  There are six copies of this book in my local library system and another seven (including two eBooks) in the neighboring library system.  Go get one.  

Please note: this book is not specifically written for autistic people.  It contains broad and highly useful explanations of our best (current) understanding of how sexuality works, especially as pertaining to physically female people.  Things like sensory sensitivities, communication difficulties, and consent are not covered.  You may want to refer to the resources listed here for information on these subjects.  

Read This Book

No If.  You, yes you, should read this book.  The only exception is I guess if you're 100% certain you don't want a sex life and you either don't have a partner or that partner is just as onboard with that certainty.  And even so, I'd suggest you still read the book, simply because there's a massive sea of misunderstandings around sexuality and just by existing you're subject to them.  Even if you don't expect to be having sex anytime soon, knowing the toxic garbage, myths, and flat out misunderstandings in popular culture is important.  Especially for women, but as stated above: my spouse and I read this book together, and we are both better people for it.  

Book Review: The Social Skills Picture Book

The Social Skills Picture Book for High School and Beyond, by Dr. Jed Baker, was recommended to me by a fellow autistic person.  It's meant to be a kind of rudimentary "how to" for social skills.  Unlike most such books I've read, this one is mainly pictures rather than words.  The pictures demonstrate, in the most basic way, various common social interactions and how they should go, ideally.  They include word bubbles and thought bubbles to help people understand the pictured situations better.

This was an unusual read.  The idea, I think, is to appeal to and teach more visual autistic people.  While this category does not include me, the idea itself is sound.  Teaching in pictures rather than textwalls is a very reasonable way to try to make this knowledge accessible. I didn't love the picture quality, or perhaps the printing quality, of the book itself.  Sometimes the pictures were hard for me to parse, though that could also be my poor visual processing capabilities shooting me in the metaphorical foot.

The implementation was, um... well, probably as good as could be expected, really.  The problem with trying to teach real life social skills is that the types of reactions, facial expressions, postures, etc, vary on the person and situation.  The pictures in this book were taken of people posing for these situations, not of actual live situations.  So as good as the intentions were, as an autistic person who has learned to interact relatively successfully, I didn't personally think the pictures really conveyed the kind of visual information needed to truly generalize from.  The pictured people tended to over-act their body language and use stiltedly formal verbal language (like saying "do not" fairly often instead of "don't"). 

Obviously, doing this can help get the point across more clearly to new students of body language, but I'm not sure the method is good for anything other than the most basic introduction to the subject.  Which I guess could be the point?  But if so, where's the advanced version?  Where does someone who's mastered these basics go?  There's a great deal more to social skills than these very few situations listed in the book.

Also, despite the title, I really feel like most of the situations listed in the book are more for late elementary school to middle school, not high school and beyond.  By the time you're in high school, you should probably be familiar with these skills and trying to learn more advanced ones.  Which makes me wonder if the book is actually meant for middle schoolers and they're just being clever with psychology.  Y'know, the "well this is only supposed to be for the older kids, but you're pretty cool so we'll make an exception this time" trick that younger kids and people with low self-esteem (see: most middle schoolers) eat right up because they want to feel like they're mature and worthy.  

About the only section I read and said "yeah, sure, this is for high school and beyond" is the very last one, the one that deals with interviews.  And even then, while the advice is good, it's very very basic.  

Honestly, reading this book reminded me of how many obnoxious nuances there are to neurotypical-handling.  It's not just what you say, it's how you say it... and it's not just what skills or expertise you have, it's how well you can put others at ease.  If there's one book I have yet to see in my reading, it's a philosophical and detailed "autistic's guide to neurotypical handling" that goes indepth about the how and why of the systems and typical reactions people have.

Which I guess is a book I could probably write, given time.  

In any case...

Read This Book If

You want a refresher on the Very Basics of social interaction, or need to teach an autistic person the Very Basics of social interaction.  Parents, professionals, and teachers could all find a use for this book, assuming the autistic person in question is visually-inclined.  This book may be more approachable for some autistic people than others, and the pictures can help convey the concepts better than any textwall.  I loved the idea of this book, but in practice it's very limited, hence calling it "Very Basics."  

Book Review: My Point of View

My Point of View: Growing Up on the Autism Spectrum, by Mark Hogan, is a set of autobiographical snippets and short stories about the author's life growing up autistic in Ireland.  It's a very short book, so if you want to immerse yourself in the headspace of an autistic adult, this is probably the quickest read I've ever found for that category.

So, the very first thing to note here is that the author repeats quite often that he has no theory of mind.  Theory of mind is the skill of putting yourself in another person's shoes and trying to imagine how they might be thinking or feeling.  It's what you use to predict whether a joke will be funny to your audience.  It gives you the information you need to know whether someone is being sarcastic. 

If you're familiar with the concept of theory of mind, you'll recognize how fundamental this is to communication.  When you make jokes, or decide what subject to talk about, or even decide whether to start a conversation, you use theory of mind to decide what kind of joke is appropriate, what subject that other person would be interested in, and whether the person is going to be receptive to a conversation at all. 

For example, when I go to start a conversation with my spouse, I can make the assumption, based on what I know of him, that he will be interested conversations about the trading card game Magic: The Gathering.  I, personally, am not interested in this subject much, so without theory of mind I might assume no one was interested in Magic: The Gathering and never talk about it.  People without theory of mind don't see beyond their own point of view. 

Maybe a more important example is in how my spouse and I handle reconnecting post-argument.  With theory of mind, I know that my spouse appreciates hugs after we've been at odds with each other.  Without it, I would assume that my spouse, like myself, would prefer some space to calm down and mentally distance from the argument.  If you suddenly hug me after an argument I am likely to react very poorly, which is why it's good that my spouse tends to ask for hugs after arguments rather than demanding them or just starting them without warning.  But if I always walked away to get my space and distance after an argument, my spouse would feel hurt and alienated.  So theory of mind helps both of us communicate and reconnect. 

Lacking theory of mind, therefore, is a significant disability, which I hope I've made clear here.  Notably, lacking theory of mind is not a specifically autistic trait.  It's a trait that can go along with autism, but it is not specifically autistic.  I can say that because I'm autistic, and several people I know are autistic, but we all have theory of mind. 

There's a catch to that ownership of theory of mind, though.  That is: the more different the mind is from your own, the harder it is to have a theory of it.  Autistic people are simply different. Not less, but definitely different.  So like my example above, my spouse (and many neurotypical humans) prefer to re-establish physical closeness after an argument.  This is affirming and positive for most people.  It says, on an emotional level, "I am still close to you and care about you."  That kind of affirmation is a very good thing after an argument and hurt feelings. 

For me, though?  If I'm upset (and I usually am after an argument), my skin is going to be extra sensitive.  Touch, especially hugs or other kinds of closeness, will actually hurt or at least be unpleasant.  So my preference is to go off by myself and cool down so I can refocus and move past the argument.  I already know my spouse loves me, and giving or receiving a hug will not change that to me.  So in this way, my spouse and I differ fundamentally. 

(If anyone is curious, the compromise is that we usually hug or have some kind of touch, and then my spouse leaves me alone so I can cool down.)

I have theory of mind, but what's normal for me isn't what's normal for most people.  I have, therefore, had to learn to figure out specifically what's normal for neurotypical people, bit by bit.  I have a talent for recognizing patterns, which is also somewhat an autistic thing, so that helped me learn. 

However, it's something like trying to learn what's normal for another culture, or even what's normal for aliens.  Y'all simply don't work, act, or think like me.  So I, and other autistic people with theory of mind, have a much harder time using theory of mind.  Even though we often have it. 

Theory of mind explanation aside... reading this book made me kind of sad.  Like many autistic adults, there's a lot of frustration in the author's memoirs.  A lot of alienation, a lot of miscommunication, and a lot of forcing himself to do things he didn't want to and knew ahead of time was going to make him miserable. 

The book is all of 55 pages, so it's not a long read and it does, as advertised, give you a sense of what it's like to be the author.  This was made more interesting to me by the fact that he's Irish, so there's bits and pieces of that culture in the stories. 

Read This Book If

You want to explore a facet of the autism spectrum and get a sense for what it can be like to live without theory of mind.  Fellow autistics might read this book to meet a kindred spirit, and parents and teachers might find the descriptions of the author's reasoning helpful to understanding their loved ones and students.  This is a very short book, at 55 pages, written in short chunks of story or perspective on specific subjects.  It's written fairly accessibly.  There are some words or concepts that reference Ireland's accent and culture, but overall I didn't have trouble understanding the book.  

Book Review: Quirky, Yes -- Hopeless, No

Quirky, Yes -- Hopeless, No: practical tips to help your child with Asperger's syndrome be more socially accepted, by Cynthia La Brie Norall with Beth Wagner Brust, is a topical guidebook focused around handling children in the now defunct "Aspie" subset of autism spectrum conditions.

That subtype is basically: visual thinker, no learning disabilities, average to high IQ, mainstream education, fully verbal, no physical disabilities or conditions like epilepsy or cerebral palsy, and fixated on special interests with no general curiosity.

You can essentially look up information on subjects like anxiety, conversation, teasing, sarcasm, and courtesy.  Each has a short section (less than 5 pages) and comes with a "See also:" for related subjects.  There's a significant amount of repetition of concepts, since some subjects overlap in places.  The overall message is what's in the title: autistic people are different, but you shouldn't give up on us.  The book is meant to help you understand and give you immediate ideas of what to try.  Sound great, right?

Honestly?  I didn't really like this book.  It got a lot of things right, but in some cases it did so in the worst way possible.

For example, one of the early sections talks about meltdowns, and how they're different than tantrums.  The issue?  The book doesn't use the word meltdown.  It insists on giving you two different definitions of "tantrum," and explaining the autistic meltdown in great depth but not using the obvious word for it.  The content is more or less accurate, in that meltdowns are not about control or getting what you want, but about being overwhelmed or overstimulated and not being able to handle it.  If there's a perfectly good word to distinguish a not-tantrum from a tantrum, I can't understand why you wouldn't use it.

I also didn't like the "one size fits all" stereotypes the book liked to trumpet.  The thing about autism is that it's a spectrum.  The well-worn saying is, "If you've met one person with autism, you've met one person with autism." That includes the subset like myself who were given the label "Asperger's Syndrome" instead of "autism" or "high functioning autism."  There are going to be differences, so saying "all Aspies do this" or "all Aspies have this problem," or "Aspies think like this" is a massive red flag, and wrong to boot.

This book has tons of those massive red flags.  A personally irritating example is in the section about taking an interest in other people.  The book opines that autistic people are not interested in others, which is a problem because that behavior is expected.  It then says, "Can we rewire the brain to insert an interest in people?  No, unfortunately, there is no way to hardwire in social thinking."  And then talks about how you can train autistic people to fake interest in others so the social expectation is fulfilled.

So, excuse me?  I'm an autistic person with a general interest in everyone and everything, including other people.  I have had that interest since I was young, and have only gotten better at expressing it as I aged.  I wasn't aware that I apparently don't exist, thanks for that heads up (sarcasm).

Speaking of ways I don't exist, there were a couple mentions of gender talks and dating.  While I absolutely agree it's important to discuss these things, the assumption the book makes, that autistic children will be cisgender (either male OR female, both, transgender, or none of the above) and only care about straight dating (never mind all the gay and bi folks), is woefully shortsighted.  Autistic people often find ourselves in gender minorities.  I myself am agender, which puts me in the transgender category...  and apparently again, I don't exist.  Talk about LGBTQIA issues, for Pete's sake.  It is 2020 and sex and gender are way more complicated than, "did you check what's in their pants?"

And speaking of things that are outdated...  This whole book, while published in 2009, seems to be stuck in the 90s.  Paper and pencil solutions are stressed.  Phone skills and analog clock-reading skills are pointed out as important.  Look, I get that not every person has a smartphone, but these days, even under the poverty line, it's the vast majority.  Children these days are more likely to use a smartphone for organizational solutions, text far more than call, and use their cell phones for clocks rather than squint at a clock with hands.

There's a time and place for paper-and-pencil solutions, or whiteboards, or what have you.  But the issue of smartphones was basically entirely ignored throughout the book, and that strikes me as a staggering oversight.  Particularly when talking about bullying.  The book focuses only on in-person bullying, but cyberbullying is now quite common and badly needs addressing in great detail.

My last criticism is that the book seems steeped heavily in the ableist "autism separate from child" mentality.  The fallacy in Autism $peaks' publicity stuff is that the autism can somehow be peeled away from a person, "freeing" the normal human underneath, or some such nonsense.  This shows up in various points in the book, but the one that irked me enough to note it down was on page 163: "Unlike more severe autism, Asperger's syndrome is surmountable to a degree."

Hi, it's me again, the twice-nonexistent autistic human!  My autism is not a chronic disease.  I have learned to function in your bullshit neurotypical society, but that does not mean I have somehow "overcome" my neurology.  I am still autistic, and I will still be autistic even if I solve all my health problems and function at my very best.  Please don't imply my existence is something to be "surmounted," and if I just try hard enough I'll be "normal."  Yikes.

This is probably the most blistering review I've written and opted to publish, and I think the book bothered me because it got many things right but missed the mark in so many important ways.  The authors spent hundreds of hours around autistic kids, but it's like they never spoke to autistic adults or even heard of neurodiversity at all.  I hate to belabor the obvious, but like... maybe do that before you publish your book next time?

Read This Book If

You're the parent of an autistic child, and your kid fits neatly into the subtype of autism I've described above.  Most likely, they will not, because autistic people vary quite a lot in our characteristics.  You can still read this book, but it has a lot of problems, not the least of which is that the information would have been most useful in the 90s, and has not been updated for the age of smartphones, cyberbullying, and social media.  There were also major issues with ableism and sweeping stereotypes, which I really did not appreciate.

Book Review: Autism in Heels

Autism in Heels: The Untold Story of a Female Life on the Spectrum, by Jennifer Cook O'Toole, technically falls into the "my life with autism" category of autism literature, but it is so much more.  Besides being what it says on the tin: the story of an autistic woman rather than the stereotypical autistic guy, it's also the story of a mother of autistic children, the story of a wife of an autistic man, the story of an abuse survivor, and the story of a survivor of self-harm via eating disorder.

Jennifer O'Toole is a lot of things, as a person, and this book is a look into many of them.  It was also painfully familiar to me in a lot of ways.  The difference is that her story is moreso than mine; she reached more tremendous highs and plummeted to significantly more painful depths.

A major difference here is that while the author embraced her femininity, using it as a pattern and a framework with which to understand her life and self, I ignored mine until I found a word that actually does describe my gender: agender.  Effectively, I would most prefer you leave your gender expectations at the door when meeting and interacting with me.  I am not masculine, or feminine, or both.  I am "no thank you."

I was fortunate enough to be born to parents who allowed me to be myself, even if "myself" was painfully unfashionable and insisted on wearing sweatpants into high school.  Because my parents didn't actively enforce gender roles, I was able to grow without pretzeling myself into stereotypes I hated, or dealing too much with dresses, skirts, high-heeled shoes, and a million fiddly accessories which only lend themselves to accentuating the fact that that women are reduced to the attractiveness of their bodies.

A lot of autistic people find themselves in the gender minority camp, apparently.  But we live in a world where gender roles and stereotypes are still very much in effect.  And of course, as the book points out, many autistic people are born genetically female and not recognized as autistic.  So a book like this is exceedingly valuable, because in Jennifer's experience being autistic and female, we can find echoes of our own lived experience.  And not only that, but she also points out her pitfalls and failings honestly, which allows us a better chance to avoid those pitfalls.

I found this a difficult book to read.  Not because of the writing style, which was quite easy to read.  Not because of the length, which was less than 300 pages.  It was the subject material, which often struck very painfully close to home.  The question of, "how can I be so smart and still feel so stupid?" is all too real to me.

"Spiky skills" is sometimes how this phenomenon is phrased, where the person has great strengths in some developmental areas and skills, but in others, barely scrapes by.  In autistic people, the obvious example is being a trivia god/goddess (whether that trivia is trains, edible plants, or classical literature), but never knowing what to say when someone is upset, or even what upset them in the first place.

The author focused less on the social difficulties, and more on Executive Functioning difficulties.  Charmingly, she does so by starting with Santa.  I especially recommend reading this section.  It's shockingly easy to read for a lesson on brain science, first and foremost, but also because Executive Function isn't well understood despite being incredibly important to understanding autism.  There's a lot to unpack and understand about it, and doing so can help you understand your autistic loved ones better.

I honestly don't believe I've read a clearer, more approachable description of Executive Function anywhere, ever.  So while I strongly recommend the entire book, I wish that particular section was required reading for every autism-related professional, and given to every parent and newly-diagnosed autistic person.

Read This Book If

You are autistic, especially if your sex or gender is female or female leaning.  Also read this book if you love someone who meets those criteria.  Professionals and teachers would find this book useful in broadening their understanding of the autism spectrum.  It gives the lived experience and "inside the mind of" for a person who has lived a lot of life, both highs and lows.  

There is, as of yet, not nearly enough understanding of autistic women, and so accounts like this are incredibly valuable.  This particular account is especially so, but be warned: you may find yourself in tears in places.  My (very short and exclusive) bookshelf will be graced by a copy of this book in a few days, and it has rightfully earned that place.

Book Review: Special-Needs Kids Go Pharm-Free

Special-Needs Kids Go Pharm-Free: Nutrition-Focused Tools to Help Minimize Meds and Maximize Health and Well-Being, by Judy Converse (MPH, RD, LD), is, in the main, a guidebook to special needs child nutrition and feeding. 

This is a book that covers more than autism, but as most parents with autistic loved ones know, you don't usually just get "autism and no other problems."  There's usually gasto-intestinal issues, food allergies, intolerance of food dyes, and sleep difficulties.  This book covers all of those things.  The title is a bit deceptive, in that the author doesn't necessarily think it's reasonable for every child to cut pharmaceuticals out of their lives. 

However, what she does say is that many conditions which are typically treated with pharmaceuticals, like depression, inability to focus, hyperactivity, and digestive issues... can be treated more effectively with better nutrition and possibly dietary changes.  Instead of treating the symptoms, you can eliminate the cause of the problem itself, which might be something like a zinc deficiency or magnesium deficiency.  The end result, naturally, is a happier, healthier child.

I personally suffered from both of those deficiencies, and it seems I also have some form of allergy to dairy.  And possibly gluten, but I'm studiously ignoring that right now because the idea of trying to go gluten-free is painful to contemplate.  As I understand it, this is a common dread for parents of autistic people.  Good news!  This book has resources to help. 

Actually, on the subject of nutrition and food allergies, this book has something I've never seen anywhere else: DIY infant formula.  Babies can be allergic to foods, and if the mother eats those foods or the infant formula contains them, the baby can suffer those allergies.  But because they're babies, they can't really communicate the specifics of their distress.  My spouse's mother eventually had to cut cow milk and dairy out of her diet when breast-feeding him, because he was apparently lactose intolerant from birth.

While removing cow dairy from a diet might be complicated, at least it was just one factor.  For some people on the autism spectrum, it's more than one thing.  The author talks about her struggles with feeding her son, who had a lot of food allergies and eventually, despite all her efforts, could not be breast-fed.  The authors talks about how to test for these sorts of things in children of all ages, as well as reasonable coping strategies for managing meals.

I say "reasonable" because high-needs people can test positive for allergies to dozens of foods, and trying to cut all of those foods out of a diet is exhausting at best.  The author quite rightly points out that it can also lead to malnutrition.  So she suggests (repeated throughout the book, so as to really get the point across) that you should get the tests done, and then choose the 2-4 strongest reactions to eliminate from the person's diet.  The rest should be cycled, or eaten sparingly once or twice a week.  This method limits the amount of exhaustion a parent faces when trying to provide meals and appropriate nutrition for their loved one.

The book also discusses specific supplements, from fish oil to amino acids to brain chemicals like GABA.  There were things I'd heard of, like magnesium and zinc, and things I hadn't, like tyrosine and glutathione.  Each comes with the sort of educated advice and symptoms list you would expect when visiting a specialist doctor... which is the author's credentials, of course.  It's just usual to have put into a book, when this advice will typically run you hundreds to thousands of dollars. 

Naturally, you shouldn't simply pick up this book and try the things in it without any form of professional guidance.  While I found this book astonishingly accessible and thorough about its information, there's always interactions between pharmaceuticals and supplements.  Some of those are covered in this book, but for your loved one's safety, consult a trained professional before adding things. 

Overall, this was an excellent read.  High quality information, significant but not overwhelming resources, written in an accessible-to-all style.  While I don't agree with absolutely every recommendation in the book, the author seems quite knowledgeable and in-tune with this subject.  I might consider buying a copy of this book and having it on hand to give to parents who come to the parent support group.  The kinds of symptoms they complain about, including unusual things like the "white diet" where the child will only eat milk, cheese, pasta, etc, are addressed in these pages.

Read This Book If

You're a parent of a special-needs person, especially if they're younger than 18.  Seriously, this is basically essential reading.  This book does cover autism but it also covers much of the rest of the alphabet soup that often plagues special-needs kids: depression, anxiety, ADHD, allergies, asthma, learning problems, epilepsy, etc.  The author provides clear, accessible suggestions for complete nutrition, from covering specific supplements to which tests to ask for from your doctor.  Sleep, growth patterns, allergies (including dietary allergies), and gut bacteria are covered.  The resources offered are excellent.  And it's the only book I've ever seen that's included a literal recipe for a hypoallergenic infant formula.