“Publishers have a choice now – keep going as you are, or choose to make things better.” - An interview with Elle McNicoll, part one

Elle McNicoll on barriers in publishing for disabled people

We’re absolutely thrilled to be speaking to Elle McNicoll for Inklusion’s first ever blog post! Elle is an award-winning novelist. Her debut, A Kind of Spark, won the Blue Peter Book Award and the Overall Waterstones Children's Book Prize, as well as Blackwell's Book of 2020. She is an advocate for better representation of neurodiversity in publishing, and currently lives in East London.

Elle sits, side-on, in the window-seat of a large window with sunshine streaming in, and she’s signing a copy of her second novel, ‘Show Us Who You Are’. She wears black, shiny leggings, and a puff-sleeved, pink top with a shiny floral print. She has waist-length blonde hair and wears clear-framed glasses. She is wearing a face mask. There is a painted, yellow bird on the glass window.

Julie: Hi Elle, thank you so much for chatting to us, we’re so excited to hear your thoughts on the state of accessibility in the literature sector and how you think the Inklusion Guide can help.

Elle: Thanks for having me! The guide looks amazing and I think it’s going to make things better – people need solutions and this is going to provide that. Publishers have a choice now – keep going as you are, or choose to make things better.

Julie: My first question is what barriers did you face on the road to being published, and which do you still face as an author?

Elle: That's a good question. I'll preface it by saying my situation is a little different because of the publisher I'm with. They’re not the norm. Knights Of are an inclusive publisher, they're inclusively led. At the time, they had a disabled person on staff who knew enough to instruct the team and they were very educated and mindful.

So in that regard, I've never had an issue with my publisher. But in the industry in general, yes. Because there are barriers in that the industry (and by the industry I mean people who do events, not my PR team, who are brilliant) think that disabled authors who are openly disabled, should only talk about disability.

“If I'm booked to speak at a children's line-up, and every other children's author is allowed to talk about their work and their process and their career as an artist and I'm being asked about disability – that’s a barrier. It happens almost all the time, and it makes you want to withdraw and it makes you not want to do it anymore.”

In the context of something like this [Inklusion interview] it’s great, or if we're doing a panel discussion on how the industry needs to change, or parts of diversity that are not talked about enough, that's all grand. But if I'm booked to speak at a children's line-up, and every other children's author is allowed to talk about their work and their process and their career as an artist and I'm being asked about disability – that’s a barrier. It happens almost all the time, and it makes you want to withdraw and it makes you not want to do it anymore.

I would also say there's barriers because of stigma in general. I think some parts of the industry do not consider disability, do not see it at all. So when they say ‘diversity’, they think, race, gender, sexual identity, they do not think disability and they do not think class.

Because of that it means we have entire festivals, line-ups for conferences that have absolutely no disability at all. That's appalling, particularly for children's writing because I meet so many children who are neurodivergent like me, or who have another disability, and they're every bit as much of a customer and reader as able bodied children, and the industry currently do not treat them like customers. That is another barrier to me because it makes me feel like I do not belong in this industry.

“They don't want to hear about you as an artist, or as a writer, or as a human being. They just want you there to tick a box. I hate both, and they both make me feel sometimes like leaving the industry.”

I've won a nice amount of literary prizes, and I'm a bestseller – I only say that because I obviously am appreciated by a lot of the industry – but there are still corners of the industry where despite all that, you still are not considered enough to be in their club. I think a lot of disabled people have to work twice as hard. You can do your best and you can be the best, but still to some it doesn’t matter. The stigma of disability exists where people will say ‘we don't want to talk about that’, or ‘we're only talking about this’ and they don't want to hear about you as an artist, or as a writer, or as a human being. They just want you there to tick a box. I hate both, and they both make me feel sometimes like leaving the industry.

Julie: That's huge and powerful and deeply sad. When you say you get invited along and you only get asked about your disabilities, it’s so reductive. It’s so sad that's how you're made to feel by our industry, and we are failing disabled people, and authors and readers.

Elle: I have to preface that I am extremely lucky and fortunate because I've been given so many great things by people in the industry – Waterstone’s booksellers have been great to me, and my publishing team have been outstanding.

“I’ve found myself four minutes into a five-minute interview and we haven't talked about the books yet, I’m still explaining what neurodiversity is.”

But I’ve been on the radio, which although a privilege, I’ve found myself four minutes into a five-minute interview and we haven't talked about the books yet – I'm still explaining to the person what neurodiversity is, and I don't want to have to explain my disability live on air. I think people are smart enough to go home and do that research. I would hate to be listening to the radio and hear a queer author have to explain what their particular identity meant. I don't appreciate having to do that teaching when I'm there to talk about my work. It’s a balance and I understand that some people just don't understand what that looks like, but they assume because you talk about being disabled, therefore you must want to talk about it constantly. I talk about being a woman as well, it doesn't mean that I want to be asked about patriarchy over and over again.

“They're never interested in hearing about how to dismantle ableism, how they can be better, but they're always interested in traumatic, personal, tragic details.”

They're never interested in hearing about how to dismantle ableism, how they can be better, but they're always interested in traumatic, personal, tragic details, which is incredibly traumatic for all own-voices authors of any kind, be it about disability, race, gender. When they are only interested in your trauma and not how they can help erase barriers, it’s people being voyeuristic rather than wanting to educate themselves. That’s painful.

Julie: Absolutely – neurotypical or able-bodied people need to educate themselves, the onus shouldn’t be on disabled people to educate others. How did these attitudes impact on the reception of A Kind of Spark?

Elle: People used to always say to me ‘A Kind of Spark is great, we loved it, it's a book about the troubles and challenges of autism’ and now I just interrupt, I say it is absolutely not. At no point in that book are her problems caused by her, her own brain – they are all external forces. I've gotten to be quite strict about that point with schools and with events and say you need to understand the actual lens, because that's not what's going on. I know that feels uncomfortable. I know it’s easier for abled people to say it’s about the troubles of being autistic, but that's not what's happening. I think that's why they prefer to poke and prod me than asking what they can do.

On the one hand, when you're a marginalised author, you're just grateful to be there because the industry is still so it’s own club. So you think for a while, I'll take any old question they fire at me just because I'm lucky to be here. Then, when you pass these professional milestones you start to think, come on, I earned my right to talk about my work, it just won Waterstones or it's just been a bestseller, so please let me talk about that, not about difficult childhood memories I don't want to talk about.

Julie: Addie’s experience in school really resonated with me – particularly the teacher, who’s approach is one of disciplining what she sees to be simply a trouble-maker.

Elle: I mean, it says in the book that she's an old generation, and they don't believe in autism or ADHD or behavioural challenges, they believe in ‘this child has badly behaved and we will stamp it out of them’. It's not a commentary on teachers, it's a commentary on ableism and society.

Julie: I want to say congratulations on your awards – they were so deserved, A Kind of Spark is a beautiful, empowering and uplifting story, plus who doesn’t love witches, sisterhood and self-discovery? (If you’ve not read Elle’s books yet – you’re missing out!)

Elle: I bring them up because I remember when they happened it was a big surprise and I was like, oh, now they're gonna stop asking me ‘do you wish you were neurotypical?’ which I was asked live on radio. Instead, they just doubled-down and the questions got even more personal and less to do with the work.

The wider industry just don't get it. It’s all ‘Thank you, strange little person that wrote this. Oh, it must be a memoir’. You can tick every respectable box in this industry as a disabled author and they will still patronise you, they will still ostracise you, they will still talk down to you, and think that you're just here because of a diversity quota or because of whatever. And I've got to that point where I'm like wow, it doesn't matter what I do – I could win the Pulitzer and they still wouldn't stop asking me these questions.

“People don't communicate enough for me. As a neurodivergent person, I don't feel like there's a lot of communication in publishing. This is a commentary on society as a whole really, the way it is very neurotypical, in that they assume you will fill in gaps and you will read between lines.”

Julie: Can you tell me what other barriers you face?

Elle: People don't communicate enough for me. As a neurodivergent person, I don't feel like there's a lot of communication in publishing. This is a commentary on society as a whole really, the way it is very neurotypical, in that they assume you will fill in gaps and you will read between lines. I have to stress and say, you guys, I am not going to read between the lines of your emails. You have to communicate – if you want something on a deadline, give me the deadline. If you want a specific thing, tell me.

I get a lot of emails from teachers which are lovely and they say, ‘I really loved your books and they really resonated with me’, and I reply, ‘thank you’. Then they reply and go, ‘Well, wait, can we set something up?’ and I'm like, ‘You didn't ask to set something up’. You know, I can’t read minds.

“Years ago, I'd be invited to diversity panels, and I show up at the building and the event would be on the second floor and there's no lift, and I would think, what if you can't do stairs? You can't even get in the room to talk about diversity.”

There's the whole aspect of being a neurodivergent person in a neurotypical industry. I think publishing is the most neurotypical industry in existence. I can't speak to barriers that other people who are wheelchair users, or people who are D/deaf, or visually impaired, but I'm going to absolutely commit to the fact they exist as well. Years ago, I'd be invited to diversity panels, and I show up at the building and the event would be on the second floor and there's no lift, and I would think, what if you can't do stairs? You can't even get in the room to talk about diversity. Also, when I did Edinburgh Book Festival this year, I was on stage in the Edinburgh College of Art, and I was so grateful to see they had a ramp leading onto the stage.

Julie: Ever and I were privileged to consult with the Edinburgh International Book Festival this year. They’ve done some really brilliant work on making literature events accessible, particularly this year when they had a new venue and were so pushed for time, and their first year of being hybrid. It’s so refreshing to see an organisation that prioritises access.

Elle: They really treated me very well, and it was quite emotional, having done a couple of other in-person events, because it was so vastly above and beyond anything I'd done elsewhere, and I just thought ‘this is it’ – this is how it could be across the board. Access does not hinder a single person: it helps everybody.

Check out the second part of Elle’s interview here.