cry havoc

Recently I read a post about writing a relationship between an ace (asexual) and a heterosexual. One of the points made was that asexuality wasn't really defined/specified as a way of being until relatively recently in history; previously an asexual woman would've been raised to a) not even think of sex because Good Girls Don't and b) to expect that at some point, she'd find The One and then it would all just happen like everyone says. So asexuality could easily have been buried under the social assumptions, especially for women.

I mention that because the topic has been bubbling in my head since the early plotting stage of my current story, and now I'm at the point where the character (to whom this all applies) is on the page. She's not POV for other reasons (and not because I don't want to get into her head, just to make that clear), but I've slowly solidified my certainty that she's definitely asexual. I'm less sure that she's aromantic, but that's mostly because my impression is that "aromantic" means "neutral/lukewarm about falling in love" though I'm not sure I have that right. She does have immense capability to love, and would very much like a loving relationship (what others might call an abiding, deep, platonic friendship), and is probably quite affectionate with close friends. She's not standoffish in that sense, and she's about as far from "socially inept" as you can get. She also very, very much wants to be a mother, and would probably be an amazing, nurturing, instructive mother for whom her children are the central point of her life.

( A few more notes about the character, general outline. Am I on the right track, or am I unwittingly writing a stereotype? )

(also, screening comments since this is a public post. if you're okay with your reply being public, just let me know.)

In Tsiu's great-great-grandmother's time, navigators had mapped the entirety of Nasoyunukona's six mountainous islands. The southernmost island was roughly diamond-shaped, with a massive bay carving out a mouth from its southwestern corner. With countless atolls ringing the bay like ferocious fangs, some poetic navigator had been inspired to label the island the dragon's head. On a map large enough to include the Khoyokona archipelago, the poetry gained a sense of truth; the thousand islands of Khoyokona resembled a dragon's beard, running five hundred miles southward across the Jheu sea to end in a feathery tip a little over three hundred miles north of the Heichunh archipelago. Carrying the poetry to its logical end, Heichunh earned the label of the dragon's pearl. Frankly, Tsiu would have rather tossed the pearl over his shoulder and kept sailing.

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I dropped anyone who didn't explicitly request to be kept on, but this is a double-check in case you just missed the post. (I probably should've followed up sooner, since I stated that no-response would be a polite "thanks, I'm full".) If you want back on or want a pdf of what you've missed, just ask. And if you haven't been on and are curious, you're welcome to read, too.

This isn't even my genre, but unlike most stories, this one's worked itself out. That is, it keeps itself on play and there's no third-quarter "and then stuff happens" blank. Strange. Maybe the trick is to let stories stay in my head for much longer than I had?

I'll go into it later, what I'm trying to approach/address, but short version is a world based loosely on the Ming-dynasty age of merchant-pirates. But since I don't want to get into a specific time frame, for now I'm coming at it as influenced by, but not strictly-based in. Same for languages, so names and whatnot are placeholders for now.

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The lion-dogs were waiting at the shrine's gate when Kini arrived, and she wondered if her third trip might prove the first time she'd see the huokei for herself. It had rained on the mountain, the night before, and summer leaves lay scattered in wet drifts across the shrine's little dirt courtyard. Kini shuffled her way through the leaf piles, pausing to let the lion-dogs sniff her straw sandals. ( They were the size of regular dogs, but silver-gray like stone come to life, with thick manes that ringed their cheerful, lolling faces. After a moment's perusal, the two dogs ran off, tumbling and yipping like puppies. )

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I'll keep the rest behind a lock out of politeness, so let me know if you want to keep reading. I just got to get this out, and then I can go back to wallowing in code.