I’ve had someone ask me if I have any tips for writing about asexual disabled characters.
(Authorial note: I use the words “ace” and “asexuality” to mean “ace-spec” and “asexuality umbrella”.)
I may be the wrong person to ask. I despise “how to write X character” posts with every single cell in my body, since they almost always end up being prescriptive in ways that harm me as an #ownvoices writer.
For example, most “how to write an autistic character” lists have “don’t write autistic characters as ace”, which is awful for reasons I’ve already explained. I’ve also seen things as “don’t write autistic characters as excessively awkward” which, as an excessively awkward autistic, just makes me feel like I (and my characters) shouldn’t exist. When you warn people away from stereotypes, unless you’re very careful in your phrasing, there’s a tendency to erase the people who do fit the stereotypes while ignoring the fact that those stereotypes have been authored by allistics and still don’t encompass the experience of being an actually excessively awkward autistic in an honest and empowering way. It’s common knowledge that characters who are coded as autistic are also coded as ace, but that stereotype doesn’t mean there’s an abundance of good, meaningful autistic ace representation for me to read. There isn’t.
“How to write X character” posts are intended as a good resource for people not of the identity to feel like they’re writing safely and respectfully, but I am yet to find one that doesn’t make me feel erased and/or othered, as someone of the experience/identity being discussed.
So my advice is general and twofold, because I honestly believe that all other issues are far less of a concern if these two points are considered:
First, write a good character.
If your character is fully developed, their characterisation will shape the expression of any other quality you seek to give them. In this way, you can even write a few stereotypes and it won’t matter if those stereotypes match the character’s personality. If you’re writing an ace character who is quiet and shy (stereotype), but your character is well written as a shy character in all respects, this won’t read as stereotype but as a character who is quiet and shy and, incidentally, ace.
I dislike providing a list of stereotypes that should be avoided for any given identity, because as said above, they can erase people who have more stereotypical expressions of that identity and are still in need of meaningful representation.
(Although if your autistic character reads like Sheldon Cooper and you’re allistic, please rethink your approach.)
We are far better off, I feel, just to tell people to write a good character. Give your character history and previous/off-page character-shaping experiences. Give them interests. Give them unique dialogue quirks and behavioural elements. Give them unique feelings and expressions of emotion, and make sure they experience the consequences of these expressions. Give them things they don’t understand and think about. Give them obsessions, give them passions, give them things they don’t care about and don’t want to. (And the consequences of this caring and lack of caring.) Give them a running philosophy on how they regard other people and consequently interact with them, with resulting consequences. Give them the headspace to truly observe and engage with their world. (They don’t have to observe everything; they shouldn’t. But each character will see different things, focus on different things and think about different things.) Give them plots that take the character out of their comfort zone and force them to have to reassess everything they know about themselves.
(Did you notice how often I said the word consequences? Giving your characters consequences is the most important thing you can do for characterisation.)
Then, when you have a character, when you have the bones of a person to build on, you can add any other identities, keeping in mind how their personality and history shapes those identities.
Problems come, honestly, when people just make the character’s personality their identity--when a character isn’t allowed to exist as anything more than ace or autistic. If a character is more than their identity, if they are a person in addition to that identity, you’re not like to have a problem.
Second, don’t make your story about the identity you don’t experience yourself.
If you’re not ace or disabled, your story with your ace or disabled character shouldn’t be about being ace or disabled. It shouldn’t be about the deep struggles of identifying as ace in an allocentric world, or coming to terms with being asexual, or exploring asexual identities. If you’re writing a disabled ace, and you’re disabled but not ace, or ace but not disabled, the intersection of being ace and disabled shouldn’t be at the forefront of your narrative. While you may have experience with desexualisation, as a disabled allo or ace abled writer you won’t have experienced the particular ableist brand of allosexism and allosexist brand of ableism we tend to get (and how this is a double-edged sword that gets disabled aces dismissal and erasure in mainstream, disability and LGBTQIA+ spaces). Your story shouldn’t centre on this experience of asexual disability.
Don’t get me wrong: I encourage people to write characters of diverse experiences/identities. It’s why find the “don’t headcanon disabled characters as ace if you are not disabled” line so dangerous, as it discourages the representation I need. Please, please write about us! Please! I just ask that your characters’ primary purpose in the story is about something other than an identity you the author doesn’t have. I can write a story that that is solely about being ace, but an ace character written by an allo should write asexuality as an aspect of their character’s story, not the story itself.
The story should be about an irascible character’s quest to destroy an eldritch sword as part of a company of ten adventurers that drive hir to distraction--where hir asexuality is an important factor in how ze deals with that one girl who thinks ze’s gorgeous and doesn’t try to hide it. The story isn’t about hir enduring constant allosexism from the rest of the company or coming to terms with being asexual. This sort of narrative, where the protagonist gets to be a character with concerns and problems beyond asexuality, is the gift allo authors can give us, because we don’t always want to read stories centred on asexuality. Quite often, we want to read about sword-wielding heroes who just happen to be ace, so you are not writing a lesser story by not making your narrative about asexuality (or any other identity your character possesses that you don’t have). On the contrary, you’re providing much-needed representation on an axis seldom available to us!
(And a disabled or an autistic ace, on the quest to destroy that eldritch sword? Who just happens to be an autistic ace? Want. So much want. All the want.)
I promise you: if you’re not ace and not writing a story centred on the character’s asexuality, you’re writing the sort of story we want to read!
TL;DR: Writing a good, well-rounded character beyond their marginalised identity is the most important part of representation. Additionally, if you’re not of the identity, don’t centre your story on that identity. Instead, give us the much-wanted story about characters who just happen to have that identity and have a range of other problems and experiences.