This beautiful and emotional book tells the story of two brothers, Reuben, who has Down’s syndrome, and Manni, during a difficult time. It’s a story of love, vulnerability, and the healing power of connection. Manni’s writing is gentle and honest. He shares their journey with care, offering glimpses into their past and the challenges they’ve faced. While there are joyful moments and signs of progress, there’s also a quiet sadness that runs through the narrative, one that many siblings will recognise. As someone with a younger sibling who also has Down’s syndrome, I found this book incredibly relatable. It echoed parts of my own experience, some comforting, some challenging, and made me reflect on how I support my sister. There were moments that inspired me to try new things, and others that made me feel seen in my frustrations and hopes. I had the chance to hear Manni speak before reading the book, which added depth to the experience. His sincerity comes through both in person and on the page. This isn’t a typical book review, it’s a recommendation from one sibling to another. If you’ve ever felt alone in your role, or wondered if others understand the unique bond and responsibility that comes with being a sibling to someone with additional needs, this book is for you. Highly recommended. Whether you’re a sibling, caregiver, or simply curious about the adult sibling experience, Brother. Do. You. Love. Me. offers a rare and moving perspective.

Review by adult sibling Lisa

The collection offers insight not only into what it’s like to have an autistic sibling, but what autism actually is – when you read the collection, you’ll learn more about how the autistic siblings the authors know & love express themselves; how autism shapes their sibling relationship; and how the experience of being autistic and society’s attitude to autism has changed over the decades. Prepare for an emotional rollercoaster, with some pieces being absolutely heartbreaking and others being laugh-out-loud funny. This work is honest, and each piece shows many different kinds of love shared between siblings, even when their minds may work differently. When you Google “autism”, one of the first results that appears is from the NHS website. It reads: “Autistic people may act in a different way to other people”, and states things that autistic people may “find hard” in a bullet-point list, such as communication, feeling empathy, tolerating loud noises, and coping with change. I wouldn’t say any of that is wrong necessarily – and, after all, I’m not a doctor. However, my sister can’t be summed up in a bullet-point list. This collection offers a chance to learn about autism from the voices of people who love, live with, share history with, and care about autistic people. It paints a picture of how autism, in all its variety, shapes families, and I feel it does this in a way that is more engaging and real than reading medicalised definitions that still remain prevalent in how people discuss autism. It is genuinely so refreshing. Whether you are autistic, have a sibling who is autistic, or have a sibling with another kind of disability or neurodivergence, the collection is a great way to discover more about autism and feel connected to our sibling community. I really hope you love it! Review by adult sibling Rachel

An exhilarating and supportive journey that exemplifies the reasons why sibling self-care is so important. Woven throughout are opportunities for reflection and practical prompts as to how even the busiest of siblings can, and should, prioritise their own emotional health and wellbeing. An easy to digest eBook that could be read in one go, or, as I did, picked up and put down with reflection time in between each emotive chapter. Before reading this book, being a sibling carer and sibling self-care felt like a contradiction in terms. My role is, and has always been, to care, not to be cared for! Reading this book has made the impossible seem possible. It has, for the first time in my life, validated my self-care and helped me to understand I am not alone. It has explored experiences, feelings, and emotions, unique to sibling carers. Made me proud, added value to all I do, and have done, but also helped me to see that in order to do the best for my brother, I need to care for myself too. I wish that every sibling knew about this book, and that every friend, family member, and employer, were able to read it to fully understand our world. To respect our unique position and to give all siblings the support and respect required to carry on the amazing sibling caring role that they do.

Review by adult sibling Lucy

I realise that a short summary / review of a book cannot include countless quotes and little else but that is exactly what I found myself wanting to write because there are so many sentences in this book that perfectly describe my own feelings as a sibling of a disabled person: “I wanted to make life easy for my parents to make up for their pain” “It was clear that at some point the development of my identity had been hindered” “I had a very strong sense that (bad/difficult/tragic) things just happen”. Siblings is a really comprehensive exploration of being a sibling based on Kate’s own life and also includes descriptions of different emotions and situations from other siblings. There are brief summaries and possible solutions at the end of each chapter so it’s easy to refer back to particularly relevant bits. The third part of the book is strategies which may help with some of the challenges of being a sibling. I recommend reading this book if you want to explore some of your own experiences growing up as a sibling and how it affects you as an adult. It may touch on some uncomfortable or sad feelings but for me it has helped to make sense of so much.

Review by adult sibling Sarah-Jane

This beautifully written book has three interwoven strands: the moated castle home, his relationship with his epileptic older brother Richard and the history of epilepsy. They twist together elegantly, and I found symbolic significance in the way that they were always discussed separately, and yet form one novel: as siblings, we too have very separate components to our lives. I was particularly moved by the inclusion of Richard’s emotional variations stemming from his disabilities. Fiennes shares the constant change from warm and loving to violent and harsh, a tricky area to navigate for siblings. He doesn’t hold back in revealing that sometimes he liked these moments of tension, of being able to wind his sibling up like a more conventional relationship or how it gave him more attention from concerned parents. Not only was this so relatable, but it was also the first time I have seen this in any book. The Music Room continues into adulthood, and Fiennes talks about conflicted priorities as he grew older between his brother and the wider world. Again, it just felt so relatable and is a moving novel of love, family and loss. At its core, The Music Room is a book entirely focused on siblings, a rare gem of understanding from an author who has been there too. I found it an easy read to pick up and put down – perfect for winding down before bed. There are no chapters, just four parts divided by the strands, which makes for effortless reading.

Review by adult sibling Freya

Gregory creates a space through The Sound of Turquoise to explore her childhood memories, of the relationship with her disabled brother Andrew and her Grandfather Alexis. She uses Meg, the protagonist, to enable her to revisit her experiences which perhaps were too painful to address directly. In doing so, it gives the story a slightly fictional less biographical feel. This is a subtle, beautifully written multi-pronged story of family relationships, migration and your place in history. Readers with siblings who live with disabilities will resonate with Meg. Her deep love for her brother, her desire to protect him but also her feelings of embarrassment, confusion and guilt are all too real. However, Gregory cleverly intertwines memories of Andrew with a recounting of her Grandfather’s escape from war-torn Uzbekistan in 1904. This changes the stories direction at well-appointed intervals, stopping the story from becoming too self-reflective or melancholy. Gregory vividly describes the attitudes and perceptions of the time (mainly 1900-1960), giving a strong sense of the people who frequented each period, from the terrible events leading to migration at the turn of the century through to the newfound freedoms of the modern era. Ultimately it explores how trauma continues to run through and influence family generations from the vantage point of the future. Very touching and compelling.

Review by adult sibling Jenny

In her 2015 novel A Little Life, American author Hanya Yanagihara tells, rather beautifully, of a sibling relationship between Willem and the late Hemming. Their Icelandic father and Danish mother emigrated to the US from Sweden and raised the boys in Wyoming, Hemming, who died as a young adult, was severely disabled and pre-verbal. Writing from Willem’s point of view, Yanagihara describes Hemming with tenderness, and conveys Willem’s deep love for his brother. The episode only takes up a couple of pages in a 750-page novel but it made an impression on me. Yanagihara notably focusses exclusively on Willem’s feelings, treating them as a separate entity unconnected to the parental relationship with the disabled child. A Little Life was a huge bestseller on both sides of the Atlantic, and was turned into a West End play.

Review by adult sibling Sara

Teenager Brian comes from a dysfunctional family; his parents are divorced and he lives with his conniving father in a trailer home, located in a remote Dutch landscape. He is the only child on the site. When Brian’s physically and mentally disabled brother, Lucien, who lives in a care home, needs to be relocated due to building renovations, their dad sees a financial opportunity and arranges for Lucien to spend the summer with them in their trailer. But their dad is often not around, leaving Brian to take care of Lucien. This is an account of a young teenager who is unwittingly put into a position of having to take care of his older disabled brother, learning about Lucien and his many and varied needs as the days progress. Brian is accepting of Lucien’s world which includes others in Lucien’s care home, interacting with Lucien and others in an innocent and non-judgemental way. He is gentle and loving toward them, even when forced to undertake unpleasant tasks. Brian is clever, caring and connected to others’ needs. This is a lovely and sweet tale of sibling love, told without sentimentality. The reader is left with the sense that Brian is not a hero, as contemporary cliché dictates – he is simply acclimatising to his new normal.

Review by adult sibling Pam.

Maria, the narrator, explores her cousin Tsugumi’s relationship with the rest of her family and the wider community. Tsugumi has a lifelong debilitating physical illness and the two cousins have been bought up as siblings, making this book feel so relatable. The frustrations of challenging behaviour, the constant worry of relapses and the different perspective a disabled sibling gives you are all explored in this novel. I felt that Yoko, Tsugumi’s older sister, mirrored many characteristics that I see in myself too and it was empowering to see her character’s strength celebrated. Yoshimoto’s softly nostalgic tone made it feel like a friend chatting to me in cafe about experiences which feel entirely relatable. I recommend this book if you want an easy-going, heart-warming read that finally makes you feel heard. Review by Freya, adult sibling

Daisy has recently started at a new school and is keen to fit in with her new set of friends – nicknamed the ‘Alphabet Girls’ thanks to their matching initials. The gang includes potential future best friend Emily, as well as the spoiled and bullying Chloe, who never misses a chance to make Daisy feel small. When the group take turns to celebrate their birthdays with sleepover parties, Daisy begins to feel anxious. She hasn’t told anyone about her sister Lily, who is non-verbal, with physical and developmental disabilities. As her own birthday grows nearer, she finds herself questioning if she should invite them over and whether they will accept her big sister. This short book, aimed at younger readers, skilfully blends in big themes in an accessible, sophisticated way. Readers can experience Daisy’s conflicted emotions towards her sister, the impact of caring on family life and the skills and challenges gained from being a sibling. Wilson has a great insight into the importance of fitting in and belonging in the formative primary school years. I read this book as an adult, at a time when I was struggling to find any literature that reflected my own experiences. Although my circumstances are quite different to Daisy’s, I gained a lot of comfort from the theme of acceptance, as at the time I felt isolated and ashamed of my embarrassment towards my autistic sibling’s non-conforming behaviour. Without any spoilers, the story ends on a moving and positive note, and you may shed a tear. It would benefit both Sibs and their “non-Sib” friends to read this compassionate gem of a story.

Review by adult sibling Liz

Wonder is a beautifully written story about Auggie, a young boy with a complex syndromes and facial disfigurements. The beauty in this book lies in the variety of perspectives that it is told by, highlighting the diverse networks that surround all individuals. Most relatably is the perspective told by Via, Auggie’s loving and patient older sister. It is refreshing to see her perspective told and for her character to shine through. She cares deeply for her brother and understands his additional needs and the time that takes away from her parents, but does get frustrated when preciously carved out time with her parents is disrupted by her brother’s needs yet again. It is touching to see them navigate this together, just like all sibling dynamics, and grow closer because of it.

Review by adult sibling Freya