Women Love Queer Content and that’s a good thing. A reflection on misogyny and policing what women write and read.

Written By Carrie Herthwell

Considerations for Fiction Writers -  A  Blog Series

I find writing queer characters a freeing experience because it helps me escape my gender conditioning. Some folks believe women shouldn’t write gay characters, claiming women fetishize the gay identity. But can such arguments stand against scrutiny?

Someone once said to me that I should never write outside my experience. I have no desire to write an autobiography and I have a strong aversion to the idea of inserting myself and my painful experiences into my stories. But maybe the individual didn’t mean for me to write a replica of myself into every one of my stories, but that my characters must share my identity. I’m a neurodivergent, cisgender, pansexual, white woman, who has only ever had one partner, a man. So I guessed my lane was: women, men, children, white folks, neurodivergent folks, invisibly-pansexual folks and/or heterosexual folks.

But for years, I gravitated towards crafting queer characters and I wasn’t sure why. One day, I was writing a short story about a single man and a single woman living in the same building. They were fighting over building issues and were supposed to become friends, but for some reason my brain insisted the woman must be uptight and prudish, and the man must be a beer-chugging slob. Even though I saw the stereotypes as clear as day, I couldn’t seem to construct characters without them. Then I changed the story so it was about two lesbians and suddenly my characters became actual people. They even had major chemistry and the story ended romantically. Making the characters queer helped me escape the gender conditioning trapping me and made it easier for me to construct characters. I understood, then, why it was such a freeing experience for me to write queer characters.

Fiction serves a purpose. Fiction is a way to explore ideas one step away from real life so a reader can explore painful or problematic scenarios in a safe place. When it comes to disturbing content, a reader can walk away feeling relieved that it’s not real. Readers can have barriers to desire removed and receive satisfaction (1.). Fiction can help us imagine the possibilities for existing on this planet. But for me, fiction helped me escape my gender conditioning.

My parents had traditional beliefs about gender. My father worked full time and my mother was a homemaker, caring for six kids. When my father came home, he had zero responsibilities. He was allowed to read the newspaper, watch Star Trek, take university courses, go to clubs. Meanwhile my mother would be making dinner, doing the dishes and taking us to birthday parties. My father never stepped foot in the kitchen and he rarely interacted with us.

My siblings and I encountered different gender expectations. My oldest sister was almost like another mom, where she’d cook, clean and babysit us kids. Us younger girls were also expected to help with the housework, where my brothers were encouraged to experience life. When my brothers showed interest in music, they received an enthusiastic response from my parents. But when I showed interest in gymnastics, art, or writing, it was considered unimportant. I struggled academically and was considered a bit dim, so I was told by teachers, parents and other relatives that I didn’t have to worry about a career. I just had to get married and have kids and everything would be fine.

I ended up marrying at the age of twenty-three, and I saw myself as Cinderella marrying her prince, getting to live happily ever after. I couldn’t take care of myself and I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I was a hundred percent dependant on my husband. Looking back now, I know how vulnerable I was and that I was trapping myself in an unknown situation. The truth is I didn’t know my husband very well and when we started living together, it was like getting to know him for the first time. I was fortunate that my husband was kind and our personalities were compatible. But I know my story could’ve been very different.

Even if I was content in my marriage, I was still aware of the power difference between us. But initially, I liked the idea of focussing on the domestic sphere, so I put all my energy towards making a comfortable home. Then at twenty-five, I gave birth to a daughter and when she was two years old, I became depressed.

My husband and I performed gender roles much like my parents. I would do all the housework and childcare, and he was our sole income. One Saturday, it hit me that I’d been in the kitchen all day, making homemade soup, baking biscuits and so on. And I remember feeling jealousy that my husband and daughter could just do whatever they wanted. I don’t mean leisure activities, but meaningful pursuits. I saw myself as there to support everyone else, so they could exist as people. It occurred to me that life was short and I wanted to do something more than housework before the end. I started writing as a hobby and it got me out of my depressed slump.

I had fertility issues after my first child, but there was a surgery I could get to improve my chances of having a second child. I was three quarters into my creative writing program and I was feeling burnt out from school. I thought, if I wanted to try for a second kid, I should do it now. So I took a break from school and had a second daughter. My children were ten years apart so it was like raising a single child a second time and it was like paying the motherhood penalty twice. So even though it was an amazing experience to have a second child, it was detrimental to my career goals.

I often have fantasies of working full time and being the breadwinner, and my husband taking on the homemaker duties. If there was any justice in the world, we could switch it up like that, but of course that would never happen. My husband now has seniority and a good position. I’m only starting my career and it will be a long time before I make a livable wage. Even the idea of getting childcare so we could both work isn’t the perfect solution. It’s hard to find good childcare and I’d have to be making a consistent income.

Recently, my husband and I had our twentieth anniversary, and I found myself reflecting over my life as a wife. I found myself resentful that I’ve been a homemaker for twenty years and I’m only now starting a career. At this point in my life, I wish that the only thing I needed to worry about was my career, but life doesn’t work that way. I’m a mom, so that means my needs are last and my time is the most expendable.

I know it’s hard for men too. Men are not given room to pursue interests outside their male roles. And even though a lot of women work, men have more pressure to have a good career and make a good income. It’s been stressful for my husband to be the sole breadwinner and he’d be happy to know that if anything happened to him, I could take care of the family.

I like to imagine what it would’ve been like if I was born a boy. I would’ve been encouraged to follow my passions and get a career. I could’ve existed as a protagonist, rather than a supporting character.

Some claim that women and men are treated the same, but that hasn’t been my experience. Most of the mothers I know do the majority of the housework, even if they work full time (2.). If something suddenly comes up, like a child is sick, it’s usually the mother who stays home from work. But I personally think there’s something flawed in how we raise children in North America. There should be a larger community of support around families, so parents don’t feel so alone.

The reason why I’ve gone into such depth on my experience of gender is so you can understand where I’m coming from and why I might enjoy certain types of media. I love the idea of imagining a relationship where the expectations between the two characters are exactly the same. I like writing or reading gay or lesbian romance because the romantic pairs have equal experiences in the world. I like to write gender non-conforming characters because it’s easier for me to toss annoying gender stereotypes and simply craft a person. The idea of two men together is awesome because not only do they encounter the same expectations, they’re also privileged. They get to move through the world with confidence and without the barriers women face.

I’m not the only woman who feels trapped by our patriarchal conditioning. There are a lot of women, both queer and not, who enjoy writing and consuming queer content. If one glances at fanfiction websites, they’ll discover a significant quantity of queer fanfiction written by women. Gay romance and BL manga is written and consumed primarily by women. Personally, I enjoy reading romance with any gender combination.

I once read a comment by a gay man, shaming women authors of gay romance, saying they ‘fetishize the gay identity’. I’m the type of person who welcomes criticism, especially when it comes to representation. I’d be devastated if I discovered a character I crafted was offensive. So I tried to get more details on what ‘fetishizing the gay identity’ meant so I could avoid it. I researched and could find little more information beyond the initial complaint.

The comment suggested women who write or consume gay content are ‘bad’ no matter what. When an entire group of people are judged as homogenous and ‘bad’, my hate-detector goes off. In a case of prejudice, people see the individuals in the outside group as all the same and as uniformly sinister. But no such groups exist in the real world. Every group of people is extremely diverse, and everyone’s motivations, feelings and behaviors are complicated.

I started to reflect on the complaint itself and it didn’t make sense. Reading and writing gay content has nothing to do with the ‘gay identity’, but the fact the characters are two men. Not to mention, a lot of women who write gay content are queer themselves. Plus, what did he mean by fetishizing? Did he mean it sexualizes and makes gay characters into objects? Gay romance novels authored-by-women are super diverse, so naturally there’s a range in quality. I don’t doubt that some romance novels objectify, or have poor treatment of gay characters, and perhaps that’s what the gay man was reacting to. But I can think of many novels with well-constructed gay characters. It would be more useful for critics to point to specific issues in specific novels, so writers can avoid it in the future.

In the women-authored gay-romance-novels I’ve read, the gay characters are usually crafted as just as complex as the heterosexual characters. My favorite English-speaking, queer-romance author is KJ Charles and her gay characters are awesome (3.).

In contrast, women have been objectified in movies and TV-shows since the beginning of film. If you’re interested in this subject I suggest watching This Changes Everything, a documentary about the objectification of women in media (4.). How many women have been placed in movies to be sexy eye-candy for the male gaze? In raunchy comedies, men appreciate lesbian intimacy and it’s treated as natural, or humorous. But women are shamed for imagining outside the confines of their gender. How dare women imagine what it's like to be men? Put women back in their place! Or not.

It’s time to stop policing what women write and the media they enjoy.

I stumbled upon this awesome video essay, by a YouTube channel called E (5.). It was a nuanced analysis of the criticism of BL fans and it helped me realize the extent to which such criticisms are misogynistic. We live in a patriarchal culture with a long history of shaming women for being sexual and for the media they enjoy. Historically any feminine hobby or interest has been perceived as ridiculous or inferior. Women’s desire for sexual pleasure has been demonized, if not denied and ignored. And only some women choose to read gay romance for its erotic content. The reasons why women enjoy gay romance varies greatly. Sometimes women simply want a good story to read.

I’ve heard people say that as long as a writer is queer, they should be permitted to write queer content. This idea is problematic in a number of ways. For one, an author should not be forced to disclose their sexuality and gender identity in order to publish a book. The person may not be not be ready to come out of the closet, or they might be in the middle of figuring themselves out. I suggest watching the YouTube video ‘How I Love, Simon’s Author was Pushed Out of the Closet’ by Matt Bernstein, which includes a discussion of this issue (6.).

Another problem is that the queer experience is so diverse, it’s absurd to say one queer person can represent all queer people. A lesbian who grows up in an accepting community will not know what it’s like for a transgender teen who was kicked out of their home and forced into sex work. No one can say what a queer experience is and isn’t without discriminating against some queer folks. For instance, if someone says all queer people must experience bullying, it excludes queer people who haven’t. Also it’s a problem when the queer experience must be equated with suffering in order to be considered valid. And don’t forget, even if we write a character with our own identity, we still need to research to avoid unconsciously perpetuating the harmful stereotypes we’ve absorbed from media. A queer person can have unconscious homophobia, biphobia, transphobia or misogyny. So no matter what, the research and self-reflection must be done!

Women love queer content and that’s a good thing! America has a history of queer erasure in mainstream media and it’s debatable whether very much has changed. If you’re interested in this topic watch The Celluloid Closet, which is an excellent documentary on the history of queer censorship in film (7.). We need more queer content in the media and the reality is that women write and consume a large portion of the queer content available. If women were no longer permitted to write gay romance there would be a massive decrease in queer content produced. Note, women also read gay romances written by gay men and I’m pretty sure gay authors want more readers, not less.

What precisely is the harm in women enjoying two fictional men kissing? How is it different from enjoying a fictional man and woman kissing? Or two fictional women kissing? Or two fictional non-binary people kissing? Be specific. Who does it harm and how does it harm them? I personally can’t think of an answer. It’s because such criticisms are not about harm, but about degrading and controlling women. So I say, forget about the haters. If you’re a woman and you want to consume gay romance, or craft queer characters, go for it!

Carrie Herthwell
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