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.

What is Representation in Fiction, and Why Is It Important?

I want you to do something very simple; think of your favorite book. Just lean back, close your eyes, and re-live for a few moments the story or stories that hold a place of honor on your bookshelf. Got a clear image of the book? Good. Now take a look at your favorite character. Is he a dashing secret agent, by some chance? Perhaps she's an intrepid police detective who doesn't take anyone's shit?

Whoever your favorite character is, and whatever s/he does, ask yourself how many traits that character shares with you. Do you have the same ethnicity? Religion? Do you come from the same part of the world, or the same kind of family or culture? Do you have the same hair color, sexual orientation (or lack thereof), or ability/disability?

American... that's a start...

Now that we've conducted that little thought experiment, let's do a follow-up. How many times have you read a book (or seen a movie, or watched a TV show) where no one in the cast except a minor character in the background seemed like someone you could identify with? How often have you seen characters whom you feel do you and those like you a disservice because of how they're written? If you answered all the damn time then chances are good you are experiencing a lack of representation in fiction.

What Is Representation?

The easiest way to explain representation is to give examples. For starters you could check out this story about a young boy who falls on the Autism spectrum, and how he fell in love with Drax the Destroyer in Guardians of the Galaxy because they shared a similar way of experiencing language. There's also the story of Anthony Smith, a young deaf boy who often rejected his hearing aid because superheroes didn't wear them until he discovered that Hawkeye was both deaf and wore a hearing aid. There's even this case about how, if you believe Hollywood, the entire continent of Africa is nothing but savage tribes and corrupt warlords in a hostile waste.

That's two examples of positive representation, and one of negative representation.

Why does everyone think we all have terrible grammar and cram cheeseburgers down our throats?

Why It's Important

Representation is important to authors because it's important to readers. I'll give you one more example, and it's about my experience with representation.

For those who don't know me I am in fact a white male. I was born into a middle class and upwardly mobile family, my parents are still together, and I have one brother. From the outside my life up to the point that I wrote this blog entry looks like something you'd see on a 90's sitcom where the dad's a little too stern, the mom is demanding yet fair, the younger brother is constantly trying to tag along on adventures, and the older brother gets involved in all kinds of shenanigans while he comes of age.

And then grows up into this handsome motherfucker.

With that kind of setup you'd think it would be easy to find characters I could identify with, but that wasn't the case. The reason for that was because my dad was in the military, which meant every few years I went to a new school, had to learn a new set of standards, and had to go through the arduous process of trying to make new friends all over again.

Also, I had bright red hair as a kid.

That might not sound like a big deal (particularly to those who often find themselves maligned or made fun of by crass stereotypes in fiction), but to me it was. I loved comic books, monster movies, video games, and every character who had red hair was either a bespectacled caricature or the goofy best friend who bungled his way through the plot (if, that was, a ginger showed up at all). This fact didn't stop me from watching He-Man or reading the Hulk, but I noted the differences and wondered what they said about me.

Then Thundercats came on TV, and that was a game changer for me.

I had always had characters I liked or identified with in minor ways, but they were always heroes I might be some day. Liono, by comparison, was a kid in an adult's body (something I sometimes felt for since I got my growth spurt before everyone else), and he had to deal with being an outsider on a planet he had come to from a home he barely remembered. Beset on all sides by foes, he and the other cat-themed heroes on the show had to dig deep to triumph.

All of that, and he was a leader with a thick, ruby mane. It was the first message that I felt spoke directly to me and said hey kid, you can do this too! Now go out there and be awesome!

That's Really Why Representation is Important

When someone sees him or herself represented in fiction it transforms the experience. Tyrion Lannister is a great character in his own right, but he is also a little person who has to deal with all the challenges, slights, and difficulties that comes with his condition even while he struggles not to let it define who he is. John Constantine (at least in his source material) was a character who happened to be bi-sexual, and while that trait didn't define him it could act as a touchstone for viewers to identify with him (particularly men who are having trouble finding heroes that aren't purely heterosexual).

This book has even been praised for its female lead, if you can believe it.

You're probably noticing that in the examples I keep giving there's a plethora of characters for white males. That observation just goes to prove the point that while there are examples of diversity and representation in fiction, it could be argued that many more are needed to reflect the makeup of the audiences who are actually reading all of this content.

That is the point of the current discussion about representation in fiction.

No one is telling authors that they have to write books about leads from non-Western cultures, who have non-Christian religions, who have non-mainstream sexuality (including asexuality), or characters who have disabilities. No one is going to force authors to change their characters' genders, ethnicities, ways of speech, or even the way they dress. It's been made very clear that the reading public will be happy to consume good stories if the characters are well-constructed, the plot is engaging, and the book leaves them wanting more.

That said, it does bear thinking that in the changing demographics of the world it might be a good idea to have someone save the day who isn't a heterosexual white man. Especially if you really want your book to stand out.

As always, if you want more from the Literary Mercenary then go to my Patreon page and become a patron today! To keep up on my updates either fill in your email address in the box on the right hand side of the screen, or follow me on Facebook or Tumblr.

"Zen And The Art of Lazy Writing" or "Why You Should Stop Giving White People Katanas"

Anyone who's read my blog before knows that I tend to talk about things in the writing profession that upset me. I've discussed misogynistic tropes, called out lazy writing in romance novels, and I've addressed reams of things you should never say to an author. This week I'd like to stick with what I'm good at, and point out another piece of bad writing which I think we can all agree has had its 15 minutes of fame and should move along now.

Unless this is what you want your book to be about?

I'm talking of course about the katana.

The Facts

Why am I picking on the most awesome sword history has ever created, you might ask. Is it because I simply haven't heard the good word of Hattori Hanzo? Am I a sword snob who feels that weapons like the Ulfbehrt (find out what that is here) are superior to the creme-de-la-creme of Japanese weapon smithing? Do I have a vendetta against fun?

Yes. Mostly, though, it's because there are too many facts getting in the way for me to be silent any longer.

What facts could get in the way of this blade?

Let's begin at the beginning, shall we? The legend is that a katana, when forged by a master sword smith and placed in the hands of a trained warrior was a terrifying weapon. The steel, folded thousands of times, could cut through armor and bone, leaving a wake of bloody bodies behind a samurai as he decimated the battlefield. Superior to any other blade ever produced anywhere in the world, the katana still stands as a testament to the purity of the culture that created it.

That's all well and good. The problem is that it's one part myth, and one part bed time story according to this article.

Here are the facts. A katana is a curved sword which, in the hands of a truly capable warrior who had trained with one his entire life, was a deadly weapon. The problem is these swords were forged from tamahagane, which was also known by the more common European designation of "pig iron" in the days of yore. This subpar metal was all smiths had to work with, so they folded the iron 7 or 8 times to beat some of the carbon out of it. The result was a sword that would take an edge and do damage if you swung it like a fishing rod (you'll notice that samurai have a limp-wristed style that is the polar opposite of many other fighting styles), but which would shatter into a thousand shards if you swung it with all your might the way you would a broadsword.

None of that applies to a katana made from the high carbon steel that we can produce today, of course. Even cheap steel would have been a miraculous, near magical thing in the days of feudal Japan, and a katana made from high carbon steel will stand up to quite a beating and an awful lot of use.

The Real Problem: Cultural Appropriation

The real issue for writers is not whether or not the katana is or isn't history's greatest weapon. We have access to magic, super science, inhuman heroes and mutated villains. If we say that a sword has a blade forged in a dying star with a pommel hammered from the holy grail itself then no one can contradict us.

If we have this weapon being wielded by someone with blond hair and blue eyes though, sooner or later someone's going to call bullshit.

*ahem*

This is where we get to the meat of the problems with the katana; it's a Japanese weapon, but there are a whole lot of people wielding them in today's fiction who aren't Japanese, who have nothing to do with Japan, and who really have no reason to own one of these weapons much less be able to use one.

We call this cultural appropriation. For those of you unfamiliar with the term it essentially means that one group of people appropriates parts of another, typically less powerful group's culture. If you saw the VMA awards in 2013 then you saw Miley Cyrus twerking despite that dance being part of African American culture for decades. Having your 23-year-old caucasian stripper with blond hair and green eyes cut down vampires with a sword that only belonged to the warrior class of feudal Japan is essentially the same thing.

Your argument made flesh.

Don't Be That Writer

In an age where representation of different ethnicities, genders, and sexualities is becoming more and more important to readers, writers can no longer afford to rely on tropes like the Mighty Whitey to create action heroes. It falls to us to examine our work with a critical eye and to ask why? Why does a warrior for the Christian God who was born in New York and trained by knights from Europe fight with a katana? How would someone without a lifetime of discipline (and we're talking the feudal kind where training started at age 5 or 6) ever wield this weapon effectively?

What's wrong with just making your main character Japanese, and having the hero come from overseas? Or, if you really want to go the whole nine yards, setting your book in Japan!

If you find yourself coming up with a lot of complicated reasons why someone who is not from a certain part of the world, or a certain culture, has a given skill, trait, item, or other plot-important thing, then you need to put on the brakes and take a good, long look at what you're writing. The last thing we need is another white guy showing up with a katana.


As always thanks for stopping in to have a look at The Literary Mercenary. If you want to follow me then here's my Facebook, here's my Tumblr, and you can get updates by email by filling in the box on the right hand side of the screen. If you'd like to support me and my blog then you can stop in to either my tee shirt shop or my Amazon author page where all my books are listed by clicking the links on the right side of the page. If you'd like to leave a tip then click the "Shakespeare Gotta Get Paid, Son," button on the right, or you can stop by my Patreon page and become a patron today!