I lingered with this 200-pager. It's intensely readable, though Griffith has a sharp way of telegraphing a lot in a small space. This book made me look at my own non-disabled existence and how often I take it for granted. No other book has made me make a doctor's appointment, that's for sure (scheduled for next Monday for some lingering pain I'd chosen to ignore for two months). I'm looking at the world differently, too: there was a headline the other day about a young mother who was carrying her infant in a stroller down the subway steps and fell. There was no access to an elevator at that station. She died (the baby survived). That is a f*ck*ng dire end in "the greatest city in the world": and there are people, everywhere, living with that inaccessibility. Griffith, by putting you in the perspective of her angry protagonist, makes you look at structures in a new way. Because: what if you knew you would be disabled one day soon?

Okay, I'll start again: in SO LUCKY, Mara's wife has just left her and she goes to the doctor after her body fails her during a normal gesture. Mara is diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. She's left to think of how to continue her life when faced with a future of disability. She's still the same independent Mara, and now she has to learn how to navigate a world where her karate-experienced body will no longer be a tool she can use to defend herself (among many other things). Defense and vulnerability are at play in the author's work, Griffith herself being disabled due to multiple sclerosis. It's a fascinating read that bends unexpectedly in places, but I quite liked where it went weird (you know me).

I highly recommend this short, rousing novel. There are parts of this book that made me think of another book that hit me in a similar way a few years ago. It's a poetic memoir called [b:Tender Points|25572095|Tender Points|Amy Berkowitz|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1477259463s/25572095.jpg|45372322] by Amy Berkowitz, about being diagnosed and living with fibromyalgia. Both five star reads. Both allowing me to see different lives through their eyes, and I'm grateful for so much having read them.