In a healthy society, these conversations would be coequal:
Robin: "You're fun. How about a date Saturday night?"
Pat: "Thanks for the offer, but no, I'm in a committed relationship."
Robin: "Oops! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. We could get together with some friends instead?"
Pat: "That sounds great."
Sam: "You're fun. How about a date Saturday night?"
Riley: "Thanks for the offer, but no, I'm aroace."
Robin: "Oops! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. We could get together with some friends instead?"
Pat: "That sounds great."
I've made a habit of writing in as much diversity as possible. Some of it's automatic -- often when a new trait is hyped up, I check my work and find that I've been writing it for decades, as with the recent "discovery" of acespec orientations. But I do it deliberately too.
One thing I've noticed is that characters vary tremendously in how they feel about it or show it. Some are very out. Some are very closeted. Some don't even know what they are until another character points it out. Others just don't think it's any more important than their hair color -- a part of them, but not something they base their life around.
So I note orientation in the character sheet when I know it, but most of them never say what they are. It's just there in how they relate to other people, or don't. For instance, Rizal is amorplatonic -- capable of romantic relationships but preferring queerplatonic. He has a very close, intimate, nonsexual partnership with Skink. You can actually see the abandonment anxiety after their first big disagreement over Skink faceplanting due to overstrain. It serves the same role in relationship evolution as a fight between romantic partners, only about something other than romance. Equal plot tension and personal growth, different source.
I have no idea why some people have trouble coming up with other options. Their imaginations must be so small.
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Re: March plans
Date: 2019-03-01 09:24 pm (UTC)In a healthy society, these conversations would be coequal:
Robin: "You're fun. How about a date Saturday night?"
Pat: "Thanks for the offer, but no, I'm in a committed relationship."
Robin: "Oops! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. We could get together with some friends instead?"
Pat: "That sounds great."
Sam: "You're fun. How about a date Saturday night?"
Riley: "Thanks for the offer, but no, I'm aroace."
Robin: "Oops! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize. We could get together with some friends instead?"
Pat: "That sounds great."
I've made a habit of writing in as much diversity as possible. Some of it's automatic -- often when a new trait is hyped up, I check my work and find that I've been writing it for decades, as with the recent "discovery" of acespec orientations. But I do it deliberately too.
One thing I've noticed is that characters vary tremendously in how they feel about it or show it. Some are very out. Some are very closeted. Some don't even know what they are until another character points it out. Others just don't think it's any more important than their hair color -- a part of them, but not something they base their life around.
So I note orientation in the character sheet when I know it, but most of them never say what they are. It's just there in how they relate to other people, or don't. For instance, Rizal is amorplatonic -- capable of romantic relationships but preferring queerplatonic. He has a very close, intimate, nonsexual partnership with Skink. You can actually see the abandonment anxiety after their first big disagreement over Skink faceplanting due to overstrain. It serves the same role in relationship evolution as a fight between romantic partners, only about something other than romance. Equal plot tension and personal growth, different source.
I have no idea why some people have trouble coming up with other options. Their imaginations must be so small.