Don't Worry, Cancel Culture Is Not a Thing

Over the past year and change I have heard a lot of creators wring their hands about so-called "cancel culture" and the effects it could have on them and their careers. Generally speaking, though, cancel culture exists only in the way that writer's block exists... it's a term we've come to accept as real, but the thing it describes is not what you think it is.

And if you're willing to put in the time, the energy, and the creativity to understand and circumvent the issues in the industry, neither of them will hold you back.

So take a deep breath, and screw your heads back on for a second.

People Don't Owe You Anything

The idea of cancel culture, as I understand it, is that when a public figure says or does something that people find problematic, hurtful, or otherwise objectionable, people who disagree with what was said or done withdraw their support for that person. Like, for example, when an author of a beloved young adult series keeps making anti-trans comments, so her fan base makes it a point to stop buying her merch, cease reading her books, and to move their support to other authors who write stories they like, but who don't come with baggage.

In other words, "cancel culture" is just the free market at work. You need to keep the mob happy if you expect them to cheer for you.

Win the crowd, win your royalties.

Your work does not exist in some vague nether realm, apart from the things you do and the stuff you say. It is your product, and if you do something that upsets your fan base, they are under no obligation to keep reading your books, buying your stuff, or coming to your events. It is your job to make them happy. So the onus is on you to be what your audience wants, not on them to be understanding of your situation and to be forgiving of your mistakes.

Another thing that I think gets lost in the conversation about this is that you are never going to be able to please everyone. Sooner or later if you have any success at all, you're going to end up disappointing or angering someone. What you need to do is stop and ask if you're doing it for the right reasons, and to make your thoughts and positions clear for those deciding whether or not to support you.

Respond Thoughtfully For Best Results

As an example, let's go back to Rowling's work. She was often criticized for her depictions of strict gender roles, relatively few characters who weren't white (even fewer of whom were important in the series), and almost no female characters with agency. Those criticisms didn't stop her from selling millions of books, nor did it stop her fan base from growing, but there is also no denying it's a blind spot in her series.

How you respond to that criticism can make a big difference in how you're perceived.

Once that is pointed out, you could say something like, "That is a valid point, and one that did not occur to me while writing this series. Now that I have fleshed out the world somewhat, and I have been made aware that this is something my readers care about, I will keep it in mind going forward." That might be something of a milk toast answer with no specifics attached to it, but if you back it up by writing a more diverse cast in the future, you'll prove to your fans that you're listening to them, and that you are trying to make them happy.

What you don't do is argue that it's your book, and you can write it however you want. You don't angrily tell your readers to go read someone else if they don't like your book. And most importantly, you don't belittle them for the willingness to criticize. None of that helps you. Listen to the criticism, determine if it is viable, and then once you've thought about it consider if you need to take action on it.

If the criticism is valid, address it. If there's a way you can keep your audience happy without sacrificing your artistic vision, then it can only help you to do it. You're not obligated to bend with the whims of the market, but you gain nothing by pissing off the people who buy your books, and pay your bills.

And if you don't want your income to be impacted by your political views, then keep them to yourself. Because we didn't "cancel" Orson Scott Card just because he said some things we disagree with. Readers stopped supporting him because his platform allowed him to undermine gay rights, and he actively gave money to organizations that tried to remove protections for LGBTQ+ people. Huge swaths of people refuse to eat at Chick-Fil-A for the same reason. They don't want to be party to that.

But How Are You Supposed To Learn?

I've seen this criticism several times. That if you just yank away your support, how are creators supposed to recognize they made a mistake, and do better?

Well, I'm not an economics expert, but generally when the actions you take negatively impact your income, you figure out pretty damn fast what you did wrong, and that maybe you should stop doing it if the impact is big enough.

Looks like you need a little motivation.

Generally speaking, "cancel culture" refers to people who have an audience, and a platform. If you want them to listen to your criticisms, and take you seriously, you defund them. Because that makes it clear there are real repercussions for the actions they've taken, things they've said, etc., and that they need to adapt if they want to keep your support. And if it's a hill the creator is willing to die on, then readers who disagree will part ways with them.

It is not the job of your customers to educate you, or to make you a better person. It is your job to give them a product they want, and to make sure they don't have to question where their money is going once they hand it over. And, generally speaking, it's not all that hard to do. Write a good story, pay attention to problematic tropes, and try to be on the right side of history.

Contrary to popular belief, if people like a thing you've made, they will not just shit can you the instant you say something offensive, or release something with a problematic description. People will bend over backwards to help the creators they like. So stop clutching your pearls, and worrying about someone "canceling" you because you didn't present exactly the right blend of diversity in your sci-fi novel, or because you had a villain use a slur because you wanted to make it clear they were the bad guy.

If you want people to cancel you, generally speaking, you have to try. Especially if you're making something they really want to enjoy.

Edit: "But What About Organized Mobs!?"

So, this has gotten more conversation than I expected, and a constant point people keep bringing up are, "What about mobs of organized people who try to take down your work and ruin your career? Doesn't that prove that cancel culture exists?"

Not really, and for a very important reason. By the definition we're using, you actually have to support something before you try to take away your support. Nine times out of ten when you see organized groups of people trying to ban something, they're not fans of that thing who were disappointed by a creator. Those Internet hate mobs who tried to drive Anita Sarkesian off the Internet weren't fans who disagreed with the direction her work had taken; they were enraged trolls who didn't want to hear a woman's opinion on their precious video games. Those angry mothers who tried to ban Grand Theft Auto years ago weren't huge supporters of Rock Star who wanted their voices heard; they just wanted the company to suffer. And so on, and so forth.

The behavior of groups of people attempting to ban media or behavior they don't like is not new. We've seen it with rap music in the 90s, and heavy metal in the 80s. We saw it when Christian activists targeted tabletop roleplaying games, and when advocates for sobriety got Prohibition passed. That's not a new phenomenon, and acting like it's this weird force that was birthed from the Internet is disingenuous at best.

And I would also put forth that there's no such thing as bad publicity. Because if a bunch of people who aren't patronizing your platform are upset by what you're doing, well, who cares? They have no bargaining power (in a financial sense, anyway, people can and will do awful shit, and GamerGate is a perfect example of unfettered, horrible behavior) because they can't support you even less than they are already. And if they make enough noise, they might draw people who will support you.

Like, Follow, and Stay Tuned!

That's all for this week's Business of Writing! If you'd like to see more of my work, take a look at my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife as well as my recent collection The Rejects!

If you'd like to help support my work, then consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or heading over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page! Lastly, to keep up with my latest, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter, and now on Pinterest as well!

There is No Such Thing as Forced Diversity

I've written fairly often about what people would term "social justice" issues in fiction. From Asexual Awareness in Fiction, to What Would A Woman Do?, or even my fairly recent post from late last year Avoid Back-Handed Inclusion in Your Book, I've had a lot to say about representation in fiction. While a lot of the response has been positive, there has been one, consistent complaint used as a push-back whenever I (or someone else) talks about these topics. A line of reasoning that those embracing it seem to feel is the perfect counter-thrust to completely derail the conversation.

They simply say that they are all about diversity, but that "forced diversity" can ruin a book.

I don't know if you realize it, but those words are literally meaningless together.

I'm not the first person to say this, but I am going to re-affirm what other folks have said. There's no such thing as forced diversity. No one is forcing you to do anything. Either make your book more diverse, or don't. But if you choose not to, don't pretend it has something to do with a purer expression of your craft when it's just that you can't be bothered to swap up the color and gender palette.

Diversity And Representation Are Marketing Concerns

If your book has an all-white, all-heterosexual cast, that isn't going to stop it from selling. Those kinds of books have been selling for literal centuries with no problems. Also, this cannot be overstated, no one is going to make you change that roster. There isn't some kind of quota at publishers that say you have to have X number of black characters, Y number of strong female characters, and Z number of trans or genderqueer characters. Readers don't keep those checklists, either. It isn't going to be held against you.

However, it's not going to earn you any points, either.

This is the point where we talk about numbers.

You know that point I made above about how all-white, heteronormative casts have been the norm in books for literal centuries? Given that there are thousands of other books out there who made the same casting decision, how is yours going to stand out?

Because, and this is a little-known fact that some folks seem to miss, if you include an under-served group in your cast then members of said community are a lot more likely to actually check out your book. Why? Because getting the chance to see yourself in a work of fiction, and to have the issues you struggle with represented on the page, the screen, etc. is a huge selling point. And the more underserved a demographic is, the less competition you'll have in that area.

So, if you wanted to take a purely capitalist approach to things, then yes having a prominent trans character in your main cast would immediately put your story on some people's radars. From asexual strippers who hunt vampires, to a burly black cop comfortable in his gay sexuality hunting down serial killers, you would raise eyebrows, and get people to pay attention. Even if these characters aren't your main lead, just having them featured as part of the major cast of characters will generate buzz.

They're Story Concerns, Too

If you're one of those writers who just wants to be realistic in their casting (assuming you write fiction set in the real world), then you should also be interested in having a more diverse cast... because that's the world we live in! That isn't a new fact, either; people of all skin tones, a wide variety of sexualities, and all kinds of genders have existed in different cultures all over the planet without regard to where lines are drawn on modern maps for most of recorded history. From gay friars who were happily devoted to one another in medieval England, to Japanese mercenaries fighting the Dutch in the 1600s, our real-world history was a pretty diverse place.

But we're not even on Earth!

And if your story is set in a fantasy or sci-fi world that has no bearing on our Earth? Well, let me ask you this... does your story have humans in it? Because if it does, and they're supposed to be humans we can identify with, then you can only improve your setting by adding more options to it. Because it might seem easier to make fantasy or alien races a stand-in for a certain religion, ethnicity, sexuality, etc., but it just makes more sense to be genuinely diverse in your casting.

Again, remember, no one is forcing you to do this. If you think it's just easier to leave Buck Manwell, Space Force Captain and rugged, womanizing adventurer exactly the way he is, it's your book. You can do, or not do, whatever you want with it. And if you're just writing that book for your own pleasure, then that's fine... but if you're writing that book with the intent to sell copies, build an audience, and increase your professional reach, then diversifying your cast just makes sense.

Not only that, but it's a fairly easy habit to get into. Just look around, and ask why you've made certain characters in your cast the "default" setting. Then change them, and see what happens. You might be surprised at the results you get.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing installment! Hopefully it got the wheels turning for some folks. For more work by yours truly, check out my Vocal archive, or stop by My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

To stay on top of all my releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to support me, consider Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or going to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular monthly patron. Every little bit helps!

Avoid Back-Handed Inclusion in Your Book

Inclusion is one of those things that is becoming something of a buzzword in today's author circles. Everyone seems to be falling over each other to add it into their work, and to use it as an additional point in their favor when it comes time to move copies. The idea is pretty sound. If you have a more diverse cast, and you include elements like underrepresented ethnicities, cultures, sexualities, then you are both going to stand out from your competitors, and make your book more appealing to people who want to see that sort of thing.

In addition to, you know, trying to provide visibility for groups, communities, etc. who have traditionally been ignored/underserved in the past. If that sort of thing matters to you.

However, there is a trap that a lot of authors fall into when it comes to attempts to be inclusive. It's something that, after giving it a bit of thought, I'm calling back-handed inclusion.

Yes, Sharon, you have non-white characters. But they all appear to be drug-dealers and spousal abusers.

Think of your inclusion like lemons. The goal is to present them in an appealing, well-thought-out way that enhances your dish's overall flavor while giving it a broader appeal. However, back-handed inclusion is when you take the lemons, carefully cut them, then squirt them into the eyes of your target audience before acting mystified that they aren't impressed with your presentation.

A More Concrete Example

A back-handed compliment is when you say something that sounds nice on the surface, but which is rotten once you get under the skin. The traditional, "That dress doesn't make you look nearly so fat!" being one of the more common, barbed examples.

For something that applies to writing, I'll give you an example that concretely illustrates what I'm talking about.

Several years back I met the very talented Lauren Jankowski (author of several books you can find on her Amazon Author Page, and the muscle behind Asexual Artists). I was on a panel with her, and several of the points she made regarding asexuality and how it's treated in fiction got the wheels in my brain turning. A bit of free advice for all the folks out there; when you first start learning about a community you aren't part of and aren't familiar with, take your time. I guarantee the first idea out of your mouth is going to be stupid.

Mine sure as shit was.

Story time!

For those of you who haven't read The Big Bad II, or my story Little Gods, it follows an adventure starring Richard Blackheart, warlock-for-hire. Richard is a bad man, hands-down. He's violent, vindictive, brutish, and fairly amoral. However, I enjoyed writing stories about him, and I wanted to  add something to his concept in the event I published more stories about him.

My thought was to make him an asexual character.

Now, that thought was not a problem in-and-of-itself. As a part of his makeup, it could be a neutral characteristic. One might even argue that, from a marketing perspective, it makes the character more unique in comparison to similar villainous protagonists where toxic and aggressive sexuality is more the norm. However, the issue was that his sexuality was being used as a way to make him more alien to the audience, and to show him as lacking something fundamental that "normal" people would be able to identify with.

If you've ever sat and listened to someone who identifies as asexual, you'd know this attitude of, "there's something wrong with you/you haven't met the right one yet/all people want to do this," is one of the most common (and insulting) refrains they hear.

That is what back-handed inclusion is. It's when your gay male characters become flamboyant jokes, but you still want credit for being more diverse in your casting. It's when your villain is a scheming, long-nosed, greedy parody of Jewish bankers, and you can't figure out why people are mad at you for trying to be more inclusive. Or it's when you tout your strong female lead, but it seems like the book is really about the guy constantly standing next to her that makes all the important decisions, and saves the day in the end.

It is not that you tried to include these characters. It is that you included them poorly, carelessly, or without putting a lot of thought into them that makes an example back-handed inclusion. Which is, in reality, not really inclusion at all.

Better To Be Embarrassed During Editing Than After Publishing

Don't let the potential of screwing up put you off trying to be more inclusive in your work. We all make mistakes, and that goes double for when we're trying to do something we don't have a lot of practice with, or knowledge about. So while your heart might be in the right place, it's still possible that your execution leaves a lot to be desired.

But if you catch those mistakes during your plotting/planning phase, then you can refine them into genuine inclusion and diversity. And if you catch them during editing, you'll save yourself a lot of frustration once your audience gets a look at what you've made.

Hot tip: Exotic is a word used for spices, foods, and fabric... not people.

Do your research. Reach out to people from the communities you're writing about. Do your best to get everything right, and to keep an eye out for when you're saying, "Wow, you don't look nearly so fat in that dress." Because that slap in the face you're going to get won't hurt any less just because you didn't mean to be insulting.

That's all for this week's Craft of Writing installment. Hopefully it got some wheels turning! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or head over to My Amazon Author Page where you can check out my books... like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife!

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to support my work you can Buy Me A Ko-Fi, or go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a regular, monthly patron.

Diversity in Fiction, and The 2016 Oscars

If you own a TV, listen to the radio, or browse the Internet, chances are good you've come across the budding storm that is the 2016 Oscar Diversity Scandal. If you haven't heard about it, somehow, then check out this article quoting the academy president, this video, and this list of highlights.

Up to speed? Good.

So what does the lack of diversity in mainstream film, and the significantly bigger lack of diversity in film awards, have to do with people writing books? Well, a big part of it is the argument that crops up, and which I have to listen to, every time this big, scary, capital-D discussion comes up. It doesn't matter if we're talking about college admissions, actors, authors, imaginary characters, or CEO job positions. The argument goes something like this:

"It doesn't matter what a person's skin color/gender/background is. We pick the people who do the job best, and who make us the most money."

I smell self-serving bullshit.

The argument accomplishes two things for the person making it. First, it depicts them as a truly color and gender-blind person. They're only interested in results, this argument protests. Second, it says that everyone has the same opportunity, and that because everyone has that same opportunity, those who come out on top did it all themselves.

I'm sick of hearing this, because it isn't true.

First, The Obvious

Before we get started here, I am aggressively white. My ancestors came to America from Norway and Sweden, via England and Ireland. I'm also male, and come from a middle-class background. I am often the subject of unfair treatment, but that treatment always benefits me. Because of the way I look, the way I talk, and because of my cultural heritage, I'm playing the game of life on easy mode in America.

A reference shot, for those who've never seen my book jacket.

I have never, for example, walked into my local comic shop wearing a Batman tee shirt and had someone demand I prove my fandom by asking me a slew of obscure trivia questions. I've never had someone ask me whether the book I was selling at a convention was full of "chick stuff." And I've never had someone insinuate that I got one of my stories published because the editors wanted to have someone of my ethnicity/gender/etc. in their book in order to score "diversity points" with readers.

You know something else that's never happened to me? I've never had someone tell me, "you can't do that," when I said I was going to be an author. More specifically, I've never been told that people of my gender or ethnicity don't write horror, sci-fi, or fantasy, as if that opinion was a fact. Editors have never suggested I change my work when I write stories with main characters who shared my ethnicity or gender because it, "might have trouble selling." I've never had to write under a pen name because readers are unlikely to buy a book if they think it was written by a man. Most notably, though, I've never had trouble finding representation in any of the fiction I love. Movies, comic books, novels, TV shows, and even video games have provided me with a life-long parade of manly white men whose adventures I have followed.

The idea that other people have to deal with any of the arbitrary barriers I just listed, and whose most common representation in the media they love is as comic relief, villains, and stock characters, is something that I think we should address head-on.

An Example of Social Factors

Anyway, back to the issue at hand.

My point is that movie studios aren't a colorblind mass who choose actors, directors, screenwriters, and composers based on an impartial judge of talent and past performance. It's just as often that someone lands a starring role because they fit a certain look, said something clever at a party, have the right friends, or graduated from the right college. It is, by no means, a merit-based career where people are rewarded based purely on the talent they've displayed.

To show the kinds of ripple effects unseen social barriers can create, I'd like to present an example that has nothing to do with movies or books, but which is illustrative of the impact social challenges can have on entire groups of people for generations.

This example is full of terrible stuff, so have a silly puppy before we start.

Have you heard of the Federal Housing Authority? Well, one of the many responsibilities this federal organization had was helping people become homeowners. The logic was that the more people who bought homes and owned property, the steadier the economy would become, and the better off society would be as a whole. As such, this organization gave out mortgages at lower rates to qualifying people. It was a good idea, but it was an idea with a heavy streak of institutionalized racism running through it.

You see, for many decades, the FHA gave out housing loans to white people who wanted to buy homes, but found reasons to deny minority applicants. This helped ensure that white neighborhoods stayed that way, but it also made sure that many minorities had to either get more expensive loans, or make due with renting. This allowed white families to acquire property, and to begin accruing wealth. Said wealth was handed down through the generations, providing firmer footing for their children and grandchildren.

This lending policy was eventually discovered, and steps were taken to reverse it. However, the rock had been thrown into the pond, and the ripples were still going. Because predominantly white families had been allowed to buy homes with low rates, the recipients had been able to move up the financial and social ladder. Minorities, on the other hand, had often been forced into poverty, saddling the next generation with debts and hardship instead of upward mobility. It was theoretically possible for these other groups to move forward now, but instead of starting at the beginning, many families were struggling just to get to the beginning after generations of hard living and wrecked credit scores.

The ripples go further than individual families, though. This lending policy contributed to minorities being segregated into low-income areas, and helped stop people from moving up financially. Additionally, when education was funded by home and property taxes in the school's area, it meant that schools from affluent, white communities received a great deal of funding, while minority-dominant schools received significantly less. This led to a gap in the way the next generation was educated, and the resources they were allocated. More graduates came from the schools with the funding to hire good teachers, and from communities where families weren't struggling to overcome a slew of other obstacles in addition to making good grades. The result? More of the kids from the predominantly white communities went to college, got degrees, and made the necessary connections to help them get further in their careers.

You still with me?

Now, none of that means there weren't people from bad homes or poor neighborhoods who didn't end up being successful. It doesn't mean there weren't failures in the affluent communities. It doesn't mean that those who achieved didn't work for their successes. However, it's a lot easier to graduate from high school if your parents have good jobs with benefits, if you have teachers who are happy with their salaries, and if you don't have to work a part-time job to help out with the household bills. And it's a lot easier to graduate from college if you were able to get grants and scholarships, or if your parents can help you pay the costs, so you can focus on meeting people you need to know, and getting the degree you need.

So What Does That Have to Do With The Oscars?

The point is that these kinds of background manipulations happen at all levels of society, including movies and books. There isn't a dearth of minority and female roles in Hollywood because the picky public won't go to see them (just look at the rave reviews for the last Star Wars film, or Mad Max: Fury Road). The dearth comes from the money men only being willing to green-light projects that conform to their expectations. Additionally, it isn't that female action figures don't sell. Executives don't want to confuse their demographic by making toys of action-oriented women like the Black Widow, or Rey, even though there's a huge market demand for them. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy; we've decided these movies don't sell, so we don't make them. Because there are none of these movies, everyone assumes it's because they don't sell.

After all, why would you refuse to make something if there were hordes of fans lining up to throw money at you for giving them what they want?

The same thing happens with books, too.

What people are asking for with the Oscars, and with most other fiction awards, is not to take awards away from white actors, or white authors. Especially from our favorites, whom we all agree have earned those awards. What we're asking for is genuine opportunity for people who haven't been given a shot. That the next time Hollywood is making an action movie where the hero's ethnicity isn't specified, that you consider casting someone who isn't a straight, white man in the role. Or, if Hollywood really wants to branch out, to purposefully tell stories from someone else's perspective.

No one is denying the talent on display at the Oscars. What we're asking is where are all the other talented people who deserve recognition as well?

Thanks for tuning in to this week's rant. For those who'd like to help support me and my blogs, check out my Patreon page. As little as $1 a month can be a big help. If you want to make sure you don't miss out on my future rants, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter, too, while you're at it.

Asexual Awareness in Fiction

I want you to do something for me. Pick up any kind of pulp fiction from the early part of the 20th century, and give it a read. I want you to focus particularly on how these books portray minority characters. In Robert E. Howard's work you'll see black men with sloping foreheads and savage natures, and in H.P. Lovecraft's stories you'll see swarthy foreigners who are always in league with fell, ancient powers. The portrayal of characters of color as either brutal savages, evil villains, or hopelessly incompetent caricatures wasn't in every story being told at the time, but it was common enough that phrases like, "if it's brown, take it down," exist for explaining how to survive in some of these fictional worlds.

Do you have a point?

The point is that these stories came from a time long before the civil rights movement in the 1960s. They were written before the creation of the Internet, and while international book sales did happen they were nowhere near as common as they are today with our point-and-click digital book buying. In short they were written in a time where the authors felt they could portray parts of society who didn't have a voice in any negative, patronizing, or outright prejudiced way they wanted to.

The good news is, of course, that the parts of society being maligned by their representations in fiction eventually made their voices heard, and we've taken care of such obvious negativity.

Haven't we?

Asexuals: An Overlooked Minority

You've obviously read the title of this post so you know where I'm going with this. So let's address the big, hulking elephant in the room; asexuals exist. The simple definition is that asexuals are people who feel no sexual attraction. They are not psychologically deranged, they aren't celibate, and they aren't in need of a good bang to fix them. They are simply people for whom sex holds no interest.

It's more complicated of course, but we're sticking to simple definitions here. You can get more nuanced info at The Asexuality Visibility and Education Network.

But that's unpossible?

Yes, Spot, that's the reaction a lot of people have. Ever since some jackass with a gift for clever wordplay said, "Sex is what makes us human," people have clung to sexual desire as a standard feature of the human experience. If someone lacks this feature then people will freak out about it, either demanding proof that this person isn't just feigning a lack of interest, or trying to "fix" someone who identifies as asexual, aromantic, or both.

There's even a cool term you get for checking both boxes; aro-ace.

Ignoring that flies, fish, and ferrets all fuck, and are no more human for the experience, this belief shines through really strongly in our fiction. Aro-ace author Lauren Jankowski weighed in on the subject.

"Basically, in the modern era when it comes to mainstream entertainment, most characters who can be read as asexual are non-human. My own experience with it is that I've found tons of villains that were asexuals, but very few heroes (a lot of Disney villainesses can be read as either asexual or queer, which is incredibly aggravating). I know some people have observed that a lot of fantasy creatures (dragons, aliens, etc.) are often portrayed as asexual."

She's got a point.

Take a moment and ask yourself when was the last time you saw a character who could be read as asexual (not even one who out-and-out said it, just one you could interpret that way) in a heroic role. Hell, even a neutral role. Some of you might be able to come up with Sherlock Holmes or Hercules Poirot, but aside from a few great detectives who else is on the roster that is undeniably human whose lack of interest in sex isn't made to make them seem alien or "other" to you as the reader? And how often when it's brought up that there's no sexual partner in this character's life does Hollywood decide to throw one at this character just to show that no, they totally do sex.

Why Do We Do That?

Lauren went on to say that part of the problem she's experienced as both a reader and writer is that the hierarchy of relationships in society puts sex at the top. Put another way, if you're not banging someone then they're obviously less important than the person you are engaging in bedroom aerobics with. This means that platonic relationships, whether they be chaste love or closely-bonded friendships, are put on the bottom shelf.

So what should you do? Well, that depends on your story.

If you want to write a bodice-ripper, far be it for me to tell you not to. If you want to give your readers a payoff where you CIA assassin and his KGB counterpart go into hiding to live and love away from both nations, I'm certainly not going to stop you. Love in all of its gooey forms makes a lot of stories work, and without it their engines grind to a halt.

But the next time you're thinking about labeling your heroine as aromantic so the audience will view her as damaged, or you're contemplating making someone asexual as either a gag or so the reader won't identify with that character... don't. Why? Well because there are people in your potential audience who will see that, and who have had more than enough of that kind of treatment.

Secondly, it's lazy writing. You can do better than that.

If you'd like to see more from Lauren Jankowski check out her author page, and stop by Asexual Artists, an ongoing project she's running to help put the spotlight on asexual individuals in the arts.

If you'd like to support me then just stop by The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page and become a patron today! If you want to make sure you don't miss any of my updates then be sure to follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and yes, even on Twitter.