Review: The Invisible Orientation by Julie Sondra Decker

Asexual Bingo card

Asexual Bingo card created by the author. Click for a flier with information about her book!

I’ve been waiting for this book for a long time.

Years before it was written, I remember reading a conversation on LJ in which the author, Julie Sondra Decker (also known as swankivy), talked about potentially writing a book like this. Then, when it finally came out, my copy got lost in the mail! It took months for me to get the situation sorted out and actually receive a copy, although part of that was that I was out of town and without internet access for a significant part of last fall.

But it’s finally here, and now that I’ve read it twice, I can say with complete confidence: it’s excellent!

Before we continue, please note: Although I’ve been part of the ace community for a long time, and spent a bit of that time talking to the author several years ago, I was not in any way involved with the creation of this book. I didn’t provide any quotes, nor did I do any beta-reading. Because I took a long hiatus from the community starting in 2012, I didn’t even know that it was finally being written until after a release date had been announced!

So when I read this, I came into it with, perhaps, fewer expectations for exactly what was going to make it into the book than those who contributed to it… and also more criticisms, because one can generally expect most of the contributors’ criticisms to have been addressed before release.

What/Who is this book for?

As stated in the introduction, the book “should function as a starting point for people interested in asexuality.” It’s “for the layperson, written in everyday language” because “everyone will benefit from knowing that asexuality exists, that it isn’t a disorder, and that asexual people can be trusted to describe their own feelings.”

Fair enough! So I’m judging this based on those stated goals. This isn’t supposed to be the be-all and end-all of any writing on asexuality—it’s just a beginning.

And does it succeed at being a good beginning? Yes!

This is the Asexuality 101 book. It’s for laypersons, but I think it should also be required reading for professionals looking to better serve their asexual clients. It’s a starting point for real understanding, and one that outsiders looking in just can’t provide.

Books are prone to becoming quickly outdated as societal understanding deepens, and even less than a year after its release, there are already some passages beginning to show their age. But that’s more about how fast our high-level community discourse moves! On that level, it makes sense to forgive the subtle nuances rooted in older discussions. Here, we find the community’s foundation, preserved by someone who has been part of it much longer than most of us.

On such solid ground, we can now take steps toward further progress.

What Works

First, let’s talk about the best parts.

  • The writing is clear, concise, and casual. It’s easy to follow for a layperson, so it definitely achieves the right level of accessibility for its intended audience—and, crucially, it does so without feeling like it’s talking down to anyone.
  • It has a great hook for anyone starting the book right from the beginning. The author’s personal experiences and history of involvement with the community (pre-dating the establishment of AVEN) contextualize the book, and quickly dispel any notions that asexuality is “what the kids on Tumblr are making up these days” without having to directly address that charge. I particularly appreciate the acknowledgment that she’s been fairly lucky in terms of having “supportive family, unshakable confidence, no serious problems or issues in [her] life, and a thick skin,” because it’s important for readers to know that others haven’t been so lucky.
  • The structure of the book is very well thought out. It is divided into five parts: 1) Asexuality 101, 2) Asexual Experiences, 3) The Many Myths of Asexuality, 4) If You’re Asexual (Or Think You Might Be), and 5) If Someone You Know is Asexual (Or Might Be). This allows a person searching for specific information to pick up the book and flip to the most relevant section. The author also makes very good use of headers, sub-headers, lists, and bold text so that skimming readers will still pick up on the most important points.
  • I love the quotes from other community members highlighted in gray boxes throughout the book. They tie in others’ experiences, clarify concepts, provide illustrations of things described in the main text, visually break things up so that the reader will tend to feel less overwhelmed by walls of text, and serve as extra hooks to draw readers (back) in.
  • My personal favorite highlighted quote is at the top of page 38: It’s an anonymous person’s illustration of their experience with grayness through the metaphor of soda vs. water vs. water-with-a-bit-of-soda-in-it. I think that’s a brilliant analogy to explain experiences of graysexuality not defined by rarity, and I think it will be clarifying for a lot of people. It resists the most common way of explaining grayness, and I think that’s exactly the sort of thing that’s needed in visibility efforts to allow others to really understand these concepts.
  • Many points are supported by footnotes leading to more information, with a great bibliography in the back so that readers can look up the relevant studies for themselves. There is also a large list of other resources in the back—although books can’t keep up with the constant change of the internet, so a few of them have already disappeared.

If you’re a writer, all of the above are great lessons.

Cover of The Invisible Orientation

Cover of The Invisible Orientation

I also appreciate the minimalist cover, because it really mirrors how minimized and, indeed, invisible asexuality tends to be. Technically, that’s not part of the writing, and probably not something the author could control. Many people will tell you “don’t judge a book by its cover.” But I think that people also tend to greatly underestimate how important packaging really is in whether or not a book will sell. And considering that this is supposed to intrigue people enough to introduce them to asexuality for the first time and legitimize the orientation in their minds, in this case a professional look is especially important.

What Doesn’t Work

Now, I was all set to rate this five stars… but upon rereading the first half of the book and counting up the places where there are serious issues, I have to take it down to four. These are issues that (mostly) seemed very minor to me… until I really started thinking about the implications of them. I summarized these in my Goodreads review, but here I will fully explain them.

If these points seem to take up too much space, that’s only because they are such subtle points that I have to use a lot more space to explain! I’m citing specific examples with page numbers so that everyone can see what I’m talking about for themselves and come to their own conclusions. I think we can apply the lessons we learn from these examples to other visibility efforts. Continue reading

Acting Like an Asexual

I think it’s weird when people talk about “asexual behavior.”

I have no idea what that phrase means. For that matter, I don’t really know what “sexual behavior” means either, since that can cover such a broad range of activities—even ones that are fairly harmless, like dancing, can be described as sexual.

But it bothers me. There are so many things out there that are so associated with sexuality, that if an asexual (or at least a known asexual) does it, it’s considered to be contradictory to their asexuality. Flirting, for instance. I have always tried pretty hard not to say things that could be considered flirting, because it makes people assume that I’m sexual (and interested in them). But maybe I want to show romantic interest in someone… How do I do it? How can I do it without leading someone to assume that I’m sexually interested in them as well? Honestly, the fact of it is, since I’ve always avoided flirting, I have no idea how to do it, period, let alone make that distinction clear.

Another thing is making sexual jokes. For years and years, I would laugh at others’ jokes, but never say what I was thinking myself for fear of whatever they might think. I’m sure I probably came off as prudish, but I’m not really. I’m not squeamish about sex at all. In fact, I’m fairly desensitized to it. I find it kind of fascinating, in a distantly intellectual way. Ironically, I have an acquaintance who often comes to me for advice about sex, because I know more about it than she does herself, even though she is sexual.

Oh, and then there’s the big one: having sex. And one step up from that, enjoying sex. Like, if I’m asexual, and I have sex and don’t find it completely repellent, then I’m not a “true” asexual or something. Whatever. Asexuality is not celibacy, we all know that, but for the sake of the people who wander in here from google, I’ll say it again: asexuality is a preference, celibacy is a choice. I prefer not to have sex, I don’t find that it comes naturally to me. Even when I’m bed with the most attractive guy I’ve ever met, whom I’m completely in love with, I’d rather just sleep with him literally. But if he wants to have sex, I’ll do it (provided he will look out for me). And, although this hasn’t matched my actual experience yet, I believe that on some level, it can be enjoyable for me. There was that one time that if it weren’t for the physical pain that inevitably comes with not being used to it, I probably would’ve found it mildly pleasant. But I just don’t feel a need for it, and I don’t think I ever will.

I really do wish that people understood asexuality a little better, because I find myself being less than completely true to myself with other people because most people have a much more rigid view of asexuality than I do. There’s a public face and a private face, and the public one is oversimplified so that I can get along a little easier. It’s like wearing a mask of my real face, with certain features exaggerated, and others covered up. I guess it’s more like makeup than a mask. But it’s tiring to keep up sometimes, and it makes me break out under the surface, so here, I take it off. Here at least, I can recognize that although I’m close enough, I don’t completely fit the definition, and certainly not anyone’s ideas of how people that do fit that definition can or should act.