Leg

Growing up in the 1990s, Greg Marshall appears on home video in a series of awkward moments: a lanky, uneven teenager hobbling across a high school stage, a boy in a wheelchair after leg operations, and a young fan who keeps developing crushes on much of the Utah Jazz roster. The tapes are only part of the picture. His mother was typing her newspaper column in the gaps between chemotherapy treatments, his father was living with ALS, and his siblings swore freely, giving the household its uproarious and unpredictable character.

Fast-forward to adulthood, and Marshall has settled comfortably into life as a gay man, only to realize he has been stuck in a second closet his entire life: he has cerebral palsy. The memoir examines what it means to change when some parts of yourself cannot be changed, follows a family in crisis, and traces the resilience that gets everyone through.

Told with humor and candor, the book blends outlandish stories from an unusual childhood with a personal account of growing up. At its core is the ache of wanting everything from the world while not yet sure you are entitled to it, a feeling that is both specific to Marshall and widely shared.