The most recommended books about asexuality

Another crime story. It’s a lengthy tale that, because so many men and partnerships are involved, made me work hard, but the intriguing plot is character-driven, which I like. The setting is fifties Australia. I’m English and I admit that I tend to forget about the huge part played in the Second World War by Australian, New Zealand, and Canadian troops, aka ANZAC. What links Jones’ gay protagonists is their military background. I felt that I learnt something and that pleased me. Nothing on the page to worry aces.

This final book in the Jas Anderson trilogy sees Jas investigating a murder and a case of police corruption, but there is so much more: sectarian rivalry, harsh city life, a grieving mother, a revengeful wife, suffering children, and my two favourite gay protagonists, Jas himself and the ever-unstable Stevie. There’s a lot of testosterone on show. Explicit sex abounds, but it is never included for effect. It’s born of need and, sometimes, love. It never repels me. The conversation is in Glasgow dialect. Please don’t let that deter you: this story is powerful. Last pages count, and Some Kind of Love has a perfect ending.

I very much doubt that Reginald Hill intended Pictures of Perfection to appear on a Best M/M list! It’s a quintessentially English tale with a backdrop of class-based snobbery and the threat to rural life from development. It’s also the sole book in Hill’s Dalziel and Pascoe mystery series wherein Hill’s gay detective sergeant, Edgar Wield, takes centre stage. Wield finds more than a missing policeman when he’s sent to the village of Enscombe! Nothing to worry even the most sex-repulsed asexual here although, with hindsight, these stories can seem problematic in other ways: Dalziel is so non-woke. However, it was being a fan of Wield and Hill’s books that got me writing my own gay mysteries, so I’m ever grateful.

In elementary school, I was obsessed with weddings—I drew pictures of them, made plans for my own someday, and had serious opinions about the ones I attended.

I loved Neil’s protagonist Felicity for her intense belief that her mom’s wedding needs to be perfect. But the combination of anxiety and her unwillingness to hear what her mom actually wants gets in the way. But, for asexual Felicity, wedding planning is still easier than figuring out what comes next with Nancy, her friend with crush vibes. 

This book breaks all the rules by being the sweetest, most empathetic, and heartfelt romance I’ve read in a long time, but without the romance. It portrays the importance of platonic love between two aromantic and asexual students who crave community, friendship, and understanding and find it in each other.

The social media posts and comment threads make it such an immersive reading experience. As I was reading, I truly felt like I was in their world. I had a smile on my face the entire time and a feeling of warmth, love, and acceptance. When I was done, I immediately called my best friends to tell them I loved them.

Finally, a story that’s M/M and has an asexual character. It isn’t easy to write ace M/M protagonists. For obvious reasons, some of the tropes are excluded. However, TJ Klune gets around this, perhaps because the man who wants to be a movie star, Josiah (Josy) Erickson, is probably demisexual and demiromantic. That is, sex and romance aren’t impossible for Josy, but he needs a lengthy emotional connection with another man before he desires either. The story is funny, charming, touching, and validates people who don’t see enough of themselves in print. 

Asexual BIPOC are severely underrepresented, let alone asexual people in general. I always enjoy reading about characters who are asexual, and because I'm a BIPOC myself, this book is especially refreshing. It taught me that no matter how others feel about my sexuality, there is nothing wrong with me, and finding love doesn't have to be as impossible as our hopeless minds occasionally tell us. The book also made me feel at home, even if my life is different from others' lives. It helps my own book by offering more queer representation in a predominantly heteronormative society, especially asexuality.

A tale of three American athletes and their coach, all gay, and told from the POV of the coach. Included because, to me, it is a piece of queer fiction history. It was published in the seventies pre the nationwide legalisation of gay sex in the United States. Gay friends have told me how important it was for them to read The Front Runner back then. It’s all about the validation that arises from seeing people like oneself in print, as aces know. There’s nothing on the page to worry aces. The only worrying thing is that sportspeople still have homophobia to contend with.

There are very few books - let alone graphic books - out there covering asexuality. This comic strikes a great balance between informing the reader about asexuality, and challenging many of the myths that still persist around it, as well as telling Rebecca’s own story of coming to understand her ace experience.

How to be ace is a great, accessible, engaging read for anyone on the ace or aro spectrum themselves. It’s also a very helpful book for everyone to get a better sense of the diversity of a/sexual experience.

I rarely see asexual representation in the media, but with this book, I got a beautiful story about a girl finding her worth outside of a relationship while she starts to understand her own sexuality.

Like the main character, Chika, I have often heard people write off asexuality, saying things like “Oh, you just haven’t met the right person!” which can make asexual people feel isolated or “broken” - another experience Chika has as well.

Watching her learn about her own feelings and come to terms with who she is is a powerful experience that I, and many other young LGBTQ+ readers, will feel connected to. Getting to experience a story that so eloquently describes experiences like these always warms my heart because I know that it helps people feel a connection, and I’m always happy to see more representation.