Some thoughts on gender roles in fiction

I know people are tired of hearing me talk about sexism, but this is something that’s been rolling about in my head for a while now. Every time someone says they prefer male characters (women are just as guilty of this, by the way), every time they hold female characters to different standards than male ones, every time someone assumes Asrian Skies is a YA because the main character and author are women, I wonder why there’s such an issue.

And I think a lot of the problem comes down to gender roles.Now, I’m a Christian. I get where the arguments are coming from (the faith-based ones, at least). Women are helpers, meant to support to their husbands and derive joy and accomplishment from being wives and mothers. My blog isn’t a place to argue theology, and I won’t throw a bunch of Scripture into a blog post. I will say I know quite a few people who are happy with this expectation and life.

But it makes for fiction that I personally don’t care to read. See, I’ve been known to tell close friends that I like gender roles. They’re comfortable. They’re easy. They give expectations, and therefore a kind of structure that I crave.

The problem?

I don’t fit into them.

I had to be told that wrenching on airplanes was a “guy” thing. I did it because I needed a degree, and hey, look, all my credits transferred into that program, and I liked to travel, so airplanes were close enough, right? I advocate for more women in STEM, not as a political thing, but because hello, science is cool. I work for the company I do because big jet engines are the coolest thing of all. I write scifi because I’ve been in love with space travel ever since I learned I read (apparently my fascination with propulsion began early).

I don’t do any of these things to make a statement. I don’t do them to prove I’m better than the guys. I don’t do them to thumb my nose at more conservative Christians or to tell them their views on gender roles wrong. I do them because it’s part of who I am, part of who God created me to be, unique and loved.

And my female characters are the same. They desire love and companionship and marriage, yes, but they also crave other things, things that are maybe less feminine. Let me repeat: it’s not a statement and it’s not directed toward any group of people. It’s simply characters who don’t fit the mold of a traditional, feminine woman – because we exist in real life! And like me, my characters don’t do the things they do out of some misguided need to prove themselves better than a man. They do it because it’s inherent to their being.

That’s not to say I’m a fan of the pervasive masculine Strong Female Characters of late, who eschew all femininity for acting as much like a man as possible (though the backlash against this type of character is is finally growing). My own books don’t pass the Bechdel Test. I took heat from a beta reader because a male character saved a female one in Asrian Skies. And you (probably) won’t see my female characters physically overpowering a male one. In fact, Avery’s true courage won’t be fully shown until the end of Faded Embers – and when it appears, it’ll have absolutely nothing to do with her physical strength.

But isn’t there a middle ground? Can’t we celebrate women of all types and desires and talents without being accused of having a political agenda? Can’t we toss off our own biases and read about our own gender being heroic, even if that heroism includes more than being a good wife and mother? Why can’t we recognize that God that has called us all to different things, and that some women are physically incapable of even having children?

Or are we so stuck in these gender roles that the simple existence of female main characters, even the most conservative ones, will forever be dismissed as nothing more than vocal and irrelevant women trying to replace men?