My Main Character is Ableist – My Response to a Call-Out That Never Happened

When my book, Chemistry, first came out I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I would get.

Stella Blunt – for those who haven’t read my book – is not always an easy person to like. She swears, she’s permanently in a rage about something or other, and she can’t take a compliment. I knew my heroine was what they call an “unlikeable” heroine. I knew I was taking a risk in letting her go out into the world.

My hope was that people could see past all of that. Stella has her good points, after all. She is passionate, she is intelligent, she solves her own problems, and she desperately wants to be a better person. Though she constantly berates everyone and everything, she doesn’t spare herself, either.

I open the book with a scene that immediately presents and confronts Stella’s flaws, so I hope that it’s clear that Stella will be growing and changing throughout the series. She takes the first steps toward change in Chemistry and there will be more growth and change in History.

To my relief, the vast majority of readers love Stella, either because they admire her spunk and sass, or because they identify with her raging insecurities, or both.

But every now and then, Stella meets a reader who can’t stand her, and that’s fair.

My negative reviews almost all focus on Stella’s faults – her foul language, her tendency to overreact to just about everything, and her inability to handle a difficult situation with any amount of serenity or grace. And that’s okay.

But you know what my negative reviews don’t mention?

The fact that Stella is ableist as fuck.

That’s right – Stella is ableist but that’s not what bothers the people who dislike her. They care more about her bad language than they do about the fact that she repeatedly uses words like “crazy” and “insane” as insults. They care more about her continually-raised voice than about the fact that she spends half the book trying to decide whether she wants to date someone who may or may not have physical and mental health issues.

Now, if you’re a Stella fan and you feel the need to rush to her defense – please don’t. It’s okay to love Stella. I want you to love Stella. I love Stella. But we don’t always have to love the things she says and does. Stella is a work in progress – we know this about her. She has some flaws. She has a lot of flaws. And that’s okay. But we also need to acknowledge those flaws.

If you think Stella isn’t ableist, then please go read up on ableism before you say so.

The worst part is that she doesn’t even really know that she’s ableist. Stella is keenly aware of many of her own faults. She struggles to suppress her intellectual snobbery, and she works hard to control her irascible temper – although she generally fails. But she considers her “should I date him even though he has a disease” mental debate to be completely okay. She doesn’t think twice about slinging around words like “crazy”.

I’ve been bracing myself from the beginning for a reviewer to see this and call out my book for ableism. I’ve thought about how I would respond, and how I would reassure people that Stella has already taken the first steps to overcoming her ableism, but that most of the work will happen in History.

But I’m starting to think that it isn’t going to happen. So I’ve decided to just put it out there now.

Hi. My name is C.L. Lynch and my main character is ableist.

It’s the casual kind of ableism that you’re likely to find in most teenagers who have never been forced to confront their own prejudices and privilege. It’s the kind of ableism-invisibility that most people have unconsciously – the kind that only disabled people notice. But I want you to know that I didn’t do it unconsciously. Her ableism is part of her character journey, and it will be addressed heavily in History.

Please understand that my book itself is meant to be anti-ableism. As someone who suffers from mental health issues, loves someone with a disability and has worked with some amazing and admirable people with disabilities, I revile ableism and deliberately set out to address it.

Chemistry contradicts common paranormal romance tropes by presenting Howie Mullins’s undead-ness as a disability as opposed to a superpower. He doesn’t sparkle. He isn’t super fast and super powerful. He is clumsy and has trouble learning new things. He has a lack of emotional prosody in his voice due to brain damage. He also (as we learn later on) suffers from intrusive thoughts and a certain amount of anxiety. But he is a person worth loving and fighting for.

Sure, I could have made Stella be some sort of wonderful human who naturally overlooked all of these issues and saw the person underneath right away, but that would make her too to much of a Mary Sue. Ableism is one of the most overlooked kinds of privilege/prejudice and the fact is that most teenagers and even adults evince it in one way or another. I wanted to start with a heavily flawed character who goes on a journey, and ableism just seemed to come naturally to Stella.

While Chemistry sets the foundation for Stella’s personal growth, History will go into it in much more depth, as foreshadowed by my bonus novella, With You. Howie will get to tell you his side of things – he isn’t the saint that he appears to be – and he will have his own character journey to go through as he comes to terms with who he is, and Stella will need to do the same.

I promise.

Down with ableism.


C.L. Lynch

The Black Witch, Or, Damnit, Now I Can’t Read Tamora Pierce!?

A woman named Laurie Forest wrote a book so now I can’t read Tamora Pierce anymore.

Let me back up.

In case you’ve missed the uproar over The Black Witch, here’s some background on it. Since I have not read the book, I strongly encourage you to visit reviews like this one for more details including direct quotes.

The Black Witch is a very long book that takes place in a fantasy world which is filled with every kind of bigotry – racism against the various fantasy races, sexism, homophobia, ableism, you name it. The main character embodies and embraces all of these bigotries and doesn’t even start to rethink things until a good 350 pages in, and apparently, even in the last 100 pages, she’s still not totally convinced that it’s bad to be a raging bigot.

Now, even if the various subjects of these bigotries weren’t already tired of being bit players in a white protagonist’s redemption arc, even if the whole fantasy-racism-as-allegory-for-real-world-racism wasn’t used in basically every fantasy book already, and even if the whole “bigot gets woke” storyline wasn’t already very, very, VERY trite, this book would still be problematic.

Because even if the concept of a bigoted character realizing that they’re an asshole was a BRAND NEW IDEA… who wants to read 350 pages of assholery first? I mean, if you are content to just sit back and discover this amazing fantasy world where people are bigots, wow how original, and it doesn’t bother you to read hundreds of thousands of words containing repeated hatred and vitriol… then I feel like maybe it’s because you still need to read this kind of story line because you still kind of identify with bigots.

I mean, I wrote Stella Blunt so I’m all for unlikeable heroines.

Stella is angry, sweary, has intimacy issues, and let’s face it – she’s a little ableist. But jeez, it’s stated in, like, the second paragraph of my book that her behaviour is seen as inappropriate and in need of adjustment. And considering that there are people who have closed my book in the first chapter just because the MC swears in the presence of her parents, I am impressed that people can read 350 pages of bigotry and not get sick of it and throw that book in the DNF pile.

Aside: it’s also interesting to me that reviews of my book often call out Stella’s foul language, but so far no one has called out her ableism. And by interesting, I mean a little depressing. But maybe that’s because Chemistry doesn’t really address her ableism, which is the casual ableism of the average seventeen-year-old girl who calls everything crazy and insane. That lesson is coming up in History. Anyway, I digress…

What, you’re all wondering, does this have to do with Tamora Pierce? 

Oh, let me tell you.


People are leaving one star reviews on The Black Witch, warning people about the over-done story line featuring hundreds and hundreds of pages filled with bigotry, all of which are somehow excused by the trite “but it turns out that’s bad!” message of the book.

One of the reviews was from someone who hadn’t read the book herself, but wanted to warn her followers off of the book, based off of very detailed reviews (including photos of pages from the book) such as the one I linked to above.

Tamora Pierce, THE Tamora Pierce, commented on this review. She criticized the reviewer for reviewing a book she hadn’t read, and then said “before I say a word about this book, I’m going to read it myself.”

Now, let’s set aside the fact that you shouldn’t have to suffer through an incredibly long book just to be entitled to say whether you like books featuring all kinds of slurs, bigoted protagonists and hackneyed redemption arcs, and that the whole “bigotry is bad” lesson is a lesson that we really shouldn’t need or get excited over any more. Never mind that reviewers are perfectly well allowed to say that based on the content of a book, they plan to give it a miss.

The REALLY big question mark over Pierce’s lecture comes from the cover of The Black Witch. Here’s a photo of it.

Now here’s a closer up picture.



…So… She’s going to read The Black Witch before she pronounces an opinion, but her opinion is already written right on the cover of the book??

This was swiftly pointed out to her, and she responded with basically, “oh yeah, I did read it, I forgot. My bad.”

More specifically, she said:

When I re-read the book, I will post a complete review (I read it to gift it a quote some time ago and obviously forgot that I had done so, but I thought highly of it to give it a quote).

Uh… you absolutely loved it but you somehow forgot that you read it? And now you need to re-read it before you can decide whether 350 pages of racist/homophobic/ableist slurs before the redemption arc even starts is good or not?

And while we’re on that, what makes it a “whole new, thrilling approach to fantasy”?

I’d ask Tamora Pierce, but obviously she can’t remember.

I mean, if she thinks that using fantasy races to teach allegorical lessons in bigotry is a new idea, then what rock has Tamora Pierce, a celebrated fantasy author, been under?

*cough*Narnia*cough*Middle Earth*cough*Harry Potter*cough*basically every fantasy book ever written*cough**sneeze**vomit*

I mean, The Black Witch sounds like Wicked all over again, except the protagonist is the racist bigot instead of the victim of the institutionalized bigotry of the world.

I don’t see how anyone could possibly respect Tamora Pierce after that little exchange. No matter which way I try to look at it, she comes off as either a liar or a bigot (or at least the kind of person who is sympathetic to bigotry and thinks that we still need long books about it and why it’s bad), or both.

And this sucks, because I really like some of Tamora Pierce’s books. I’m not a raving fan. I’ve read her Song of the Lioness series twice, I can only remember a few key scenes, and while I adore and read and re-read Terrier and Bloodhound, Mastiff made me want to throw things and kind of ruined the first two books for me a bit. But Tamora Pierce writes nice strong fantasy heroines, and especially in her later books, her world building is very enjoyable.

So all of this sucks.

And no, I’m  not going to read The Black Witch. Sorry, Tamora Pierce.

The Continent: All Kinds of Nope

[Background for those who are unacquainted with the drama surrounding The Continent. If you already know this stuff, feel free to skip to the meat of my post]

The Continent is a young adult fantasy novel slated to be published by Harlequin Teen in January 2017. Some advance reviewers have called out the novel for racism. For a detailed breakdown of all the problems, check out this review and this twitter rant.

I haven’t read the book myself, but basically the novel, among other things, involves a wealthy privileged white race, and a variety of other races – one of which is red/brown and uses bow and arrows, and another which has “almond shaped” eyes and Japanese-sounding names. The Mary Sue, who is white, of course, sails in, learns all about the cultures involved and somehow saves everything.

This is all a summary of what I have read in reviews, again. I am not speaking first hand and for more correct details I refer you to read reviews written by those who have read the book.

Anyway, reviewers pointed out the racism, and they were immediately attacked by fragile whites with death threats and such. Then people turned on the author and sent HER death threats and such. Both reactions are very uncool. Death threats never made a person less racist, or less offended, and therefore don’t solve anything.

The author posted a response basically saying that death threats are uncool (which I agree with) and saying that her book isn’t racist because she didn’t intend it to be. In fact, she intended it to have an anti-racist message.

These are my thoughts.

First of all, I completely believe the author when she says that she didn’t mean to be racist. I know racism is woven into the very fabric of our culture’s unconscious. I know that it’s possible to consciously believe that all people are equal and that racism is bad, while still mindlessly following the racist scripts that we were raised on, from the “magic negro” to Asian fetishism.


If you are white, and you have not devoted yourself to ferreting out these subtle, unconscious assumptions, and stomping on them, then you are part of the problem.

It is not the job of POC’s to constantly point racism out to us (although it is certainly helpful when they do). If you are caught being accidentally racist, it’s your job to say, “I see. I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.” You cannot make excuses, because no matter what you think your reason is for being racist, the real reason is simply that you didn’t ferret out your subtle, unconscious racist assumptions and stomp on them well enough.

Keira Drake failed on the first point. She clearly didn’t make the slightest effort to check her story for racism, otherwise she would have known that the shining-white-saviour-who-saves-the-other-races is a storyline that POCs really, really, REALLY dislike and for good reason. It doesn’t matter that the white saviour usually learns to love and embrace these other cultures. It’s still considered a racist storyline, even in fantasy genres *cough*AVATAR*cough*.

She also failed on the second point – while she is, at least, apologetic about her offense (rather than pulling a Trump and doubling down as so many fragile whites are wont to do), she made excuses. Because the arrow-shooting, savage red/brown people aren’t based on NATIVE AMERICANS! Oh, no, they are based off of Tolkien’s Uruk-Hai. You know, the dark-skinned, flat-nosed race from Lord of the Rings that has sparked accusations of Eurocentrism and racism against Tolkien? That one. So, totally not racist.

And that other race? It isn’t meant to be Japanese or any other Asian race. It’s a FANTASY race that just HAPPENS to have ‘almond shaped’ eyes. And she made their language sound Japanese because she thinks the language is really beautiful. It’s all just an unfortunate coincidence!

“They are a fantasy race: brave, intense, flawed, invented.”

I believe that she didn’t mean to be racist, but I find it a lot harder to believe that she didn’t think that her fictional races didn’t bear a passing resemblance to real life peoples. Does she genuinely believe that the eyes and Japanese-style language were completely unrelated? Does she really think that she created something unique in that combination?

And this is where I really go from just frustrated/annoyed to completely astounded.

Because I know that unconscious Eurocentrism plagues our society, and that many, many otherwise good people have committed similar errors. I know that this isn’t okay, but it happens. And while it frustrates me, I can’t say that it surprises me.

Here’s what really surprises me:

Even if you are a person who suffers from unconscious prejudices (as most of us, including I, surely are), surely, as an author, your goal should be to avoid stereotypes?

I mean, who wants to say, “I’m an author! I wrote this book which uses a tired plot line and includes races blatantly similar to ones already created by other authors and/or cultures which exist in real life. Basically, I have created very little which is truly original!”?

Fantasy isn’t really my genre, but if I were to make a fantasy story about a young saviour who manages to resolve hundreds of years of interracial war, I would want to mix it up a bit. Maybe make the saviour brown, or hell, purple or something. Maybe have white people shooting arrows or something. It’d be different, you know?

That’s what really gets me. Even if you can’t understand why stereotypes upset the people they represent, surely you can at least understand that a stereotype is – at the very least – a story which has been told too many times.

For example, take the controversy around Jojo Moyes’ Me Before You.

The disabled community was very upset by this book/movie, because it is chock-full of the kinds of stereotypes and tired storylines that they are trying to overcome. When you point this out to fans of the book, they will protest and point out that many people do become depressed and want to kill themselves after a disabling accident. But that isn’t the point. The point is that it has been DONE. It has been done, quite literally, to death.

What about the other people? What about the people who adjust to their new circumstances and continue to find value in life? Why doesn’t someone tell that story? Surely, even if you can’t understand why stories like Me Before You, Million Dollar Baby, The Sea Inside and their ilk bother people with disabilities, you can at least understand that suicidal quadriplegics are hardly original.

As authors, we should strive to tell the stories that are still untold. Do we really want to dress up old tropes and trot them out again with fresh ribbons? Isn’t it better to create something new?

And yes, I realize that all of this sounds ironic, coming from an author whose upcoming book started out as a parody of another author’s work.

But you see, I wrote Chemistry because I wanted to take a tired story-line and make it fresh again. I wanted to jumble it up, and turn it upside down, and reverse the parts that bothered me most. My particular target this time was sexism and abusive relationship tropes, not race or ableism, but I hope my point still stands.

Authors, make something different. Everyone benefits.

And publishers, for heaven’s sake, even if you’re too blinded by your own privilege to spot an offensive stereotype, at least ask yourselves, “do we really need another book like this?”