There are practically no aromantic characters in media, and while the numbers are growing, representation is still pretty sparse.
Perhaps a major contributing factor to the underrepresentation for aromantic people in media is due to a lack of understanding of what aromanticism actually is and how it feels to not fall in love. In this article, I will be giving tips on writing characters who are aromantic while also well-rounded, as well as providing some general information and dispelling myths on aromanticism.
TW: Mentions of death, murder, and bullying.
They are tall, brooding, most likely have some kind of trauma, and became the most popular character in a series. And they are also a cruel murderer or bully.
With that two-sentence description, you may have at least one character in mind. Now, please imagine that same character with a paunchy body type. Make them smaller. Maybe even add a couple of wrinkles.
This way, is it easier to acknowledge that they made other characters miserable? Is it more difficult to love them?
One of my favorite poets from the modern age is Billy Collins, a former U.S. Poet Laureate. With over ten published collections of poetry, Collins transforms the world around us into a spectacular playground by placing forgotten objects under a microscope slide and turning them over in ways we wouldn’t normally see.
On an impulse, I bought not one, not two, but four middle-grade books to give to a younger friend for their birthday. As any reader would, I read them first.
And, well, they and the near book-a-day that followed changed the way I think of both books in general, and middle graded as a genre.
Before getting into this, I need to say that I in no way mean to represent middle-grade books as just one type--there are many, but having read six vastly different ones over the past few weeks, here are some traits about them that have made this my favorite genre again.
Trigger Warning: The article discusses in explicit detail suicide, bullying, mental health, and depression.
Spoiler Warning for Thirteen Reasons Why and Backlash
In recent years, discussions around mental health issues have become less stigmatized. Many media outlets, books, tv shows, and movies have been boldly presenting this topic in a more open and accepting manner. In such times it becomes important to analyze which stories and narratives are positively contributing to the discussion and which are harming not just public perception of mental health but also negatively influencing the people suffering from these issues.
In 2014, poet Rupi Kaur began posting her works on Instagram, and in a short amount of time, her poetry went viral and Kaur published her debut book milk and honey in the same year. Her second and third book, the sun and her flowers and home body, were published in 2017 and 2020. As of 2021, she now has more than 4.3 million followers on Instagram. Kaur is also a survivor of sexual assault and a strong advocate of feminism.
In more recent years, however, Kaur has been attributed as the pioneer of Insta poetry, a subgenre of what some consider to be poetry and others accuse of ruining it.
Okay, let’s get this out of the way: lots of authors don’t quit their day jobs! This means that authors divide their time between their career and writing. But...why? Why would I keep a job when I want to write all day? Read on for why authors keep their jobs and when authors can actually write full time. Plus, should you write full time?
Trigger warning for mentions of death and murder, and spoilers for the movie Jennifer’s Body.
What is the Final Girl Trope?
The Final Girl is a horror trope that’s typically found in a slasher movie, where there is one girl or young woman to confront the killer after the rest of her group has been killed. The term was created by the author Carol J. Clover in her book “Men, Women and Chainsaws: Gender in the Modern Horror Film”. Some popular examples of the Final Girl are Laurie Strode from Halloween and Sidney Prescott from Scream.
Being only a six-year-old, she understood the world better than most of us. She wore her bushy hair in a bow, she loved The Beatles, and she read her father’s newspaper often. She said what we all thought, but were too scared to say. Her name was Mafalda.
I’m not sure what Joaquin Salvador -better known as Quino- was thinking about the first time he sat down to draw black-and-white comic strips for magazines back in the early sixties. But I’m certainly glad he did. I remember getting a collection of Mafalda when I was about ten, and I still reread it every other day. Each page is full of laughter and reflection. The kind of smart jokes that bring a smile to people’s faces. Even if it took them three readings to understand them. Even if they were tangled with a cruel truth.
From bookshelves to streaming services, the superhero maintains a vice grip on pop culture and science fiction. Since their inception, superhero narratives have raked in billions of dollars, and with a cash flow that strong it’s safe to say they won’t disappear anytime soon.
Comparing the genre from its bombastic beginnings to now, there’s some notable changes. The world of superhero comics can actually be broken up into different “ages”, each with its own tropes and traits that make it unique. Identifying the ages of the past is simple, however identifying the current age proves a little more difficult. When we’re caught in the thick of it, it’s harder to put our finger on what makes the present unique.