This is a book review for A Handful of Spells by Kimberley A. Shaw.

I grew up in the height of the Harry Potter era. And while She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has made the series complicated for many of us, the story of discovering you’re special and whisked away to a magical school? That theme shaped an entire generation.

So when I saw a magical academy story centered on a hard-of-hearing girl, I didn’t hesitate.

At first, I’ll be honest — it felt a little like HP fan fiction. But as I kept reading, the author built out her own magical world, layering in unique systems, culture, and rules. The similarities create that nostalgic feeling, but the story absolutely becomes its own.

A Hard-of-Hearing Author Writing the Story She Needed

The book is written by hard-of-hearing author Kimberly A. Shaw and there was an immediate connection with her.

She didn’t learn sign language until college. Neither did I.

She wanted to write Deaf characters because she needed them growing up. Same.

There’s something powerful about reading a magical story and realizing the author understands your lived experience — not as an outsider, but from within it.

Meet Cait: An 11-Year-Old Hard-of-Hearing Witch

Caitlin (Cait) is eleven when she discovers she’s a witch.

She’s hard-of-hearing and has never really known other Deaf or hard-of-hearing kids. When she asks if there are other Deaf witches, she’s told that there aren’t many — because witches who can’t pronounce spells clearly “mess them up.”

(Yes. Let’s pause there.)

Her great-aunt is also a witch, though not at the same school. Cait enters a magical world that mirrors many of the barriers she already faces in the hearing one.

Accuracy in the Deaf Experience

What struck me most was how accurately Cait’s hearing experience was written.

• She doesn’t magically lip-read.
• She zones out when she loses access to conversation.
• She misses information constantly.
• Hearing aids are mentioned, but it’s an every day tool.
• There’s no miraculous “fix.”

There is, however, her quiet hope that magic might cure her deafness.

That part hurt — because it’s real.

Accommodations in a World Without Technology

At school, technology isn’t allowed — except her hearing aids. No big deal.

Her mom repeatedly encourages her to ask for accommodations (which feels slightly odd for an 11-year-old to manage alone), but Cait resists because of bullying she experienced in the “plod” mainstream school.

Eventually, she asks the school nurse (why the nurse? this part is unclear) and is given a magical accommodation: a “trumpetvine.”

It’s essentially the magical version of an FM system. It drapes around her shoulders like a necklace and funnels amplified sound to her ears — even seeking out specifically whoever she wants to hear.

Later, after she meets other Deaf witches, she receives a “thoughtwrite” tablet that captions conversations.

The accommodations evolve. And importantly, Cait learns to advocate for them.

When Spoken Spells Don’t Work

Spells do not use everyday language but the language spells are taught in depends on where the student studies. At her specific school, spells are spoken in Aramaic. Cait struggles to both hear the spell correctly and pronounce it clearly.

So, she messes up. A lot.

At one point, she mispronounces a spell and makes the entire school disappear. (The witches’ council has to step in and were mildly shocked.)

In frustration, Cait experiments with translating spells into ASL. Teachers stop her of course, as conversational languages are considered dangerous for spellwork.

Instead, she’s taught a formal visual-kinetic (V-K) system, where spells are written in the air. She has a knack for that kind of spell, but it’s still complicated and doesn’t feel natural.

But that’s not the end.

Discovering the Deaf Magical Community

Everything shifts when Cait meets a Deaf broomderby team.

These are the first Deaf witches she’s ever met.

They use signed spells that are not everyday ASL, but a distinct magical signing system. Through them, Cait enters a Deaf magical community and begins learning signed spellcasting from a Deaf instructor. She’s eventually given a spellbook written in an ASL script. She also studies regular ASL with that instructor.

And here’s what I loved most:

Cait succeeds without access to ASL — and then excels once she has it.

That choice feels intentional and powerful. It reinforces that Deaf children can adapt and survive — but access to language allows them to thrive.

The Hard Parts (That Felt Too Real)

Early in the book, Cait says ASL is boring and too hard to learn.

I was taken back when I read that.

But as the story unfolds, it becomes clear: she didn’t have access. No one taught her. She tried to learn on her own after the special education she was in “taught” her minimal signs. Her family minimized her deafness. Teachers and doctors told her she just needed to “listen harder.”

That part hit home in ways I wish it didn’t.

One quote that stopped me:

“The language Cait had too much hearing to need… She watched with growing envy. No hunkering forward to concentrate on fugitive syllables. No frown lines from staring at ever-so-fleeting mouth movements… This was a whole beautiful language waiting for her.”

And later:

“She loved her family, she loved her friends, and she loved studying magic… but being around signers felt like home.”

That longing. That relief. That recognition. It really resonated with me.

Why This Book Would Have Meant Everything to Me as a Kid

If I had read this in middle school and saw a hard-of-hearing girl succeed at magic — not despite her deafness, but alongside it? Even more so, if I had seen parents come to understand that she wasn’t “not trying hard enough”? And watch her find community?

It would have meant everything.

Final Thoughts

A Handful of Spells has that magical academy nostalgia. And while there are moments where it feels reminiscent of Harry Potter, it is undeniably its own story — one centered on access, language, identity, and belonging.

If you were the kid who wanted to go to a magical school and also wanted to see yourself there, this book delivers.

And I’m so grateful that stories like this exist now.

Because the next Deaf or hard-of-hearing child deserves to open a book and find magic waiting for them.

Happy Reading!