In which a white, male, heterosexual author continues to indulgently agonise over how best to represent diversity in his (largely unread) work.
I’ve been meaning to do a post on how I approach gender in my writing for a while now, especially since I made efforts to tackle the subject (albeit indirectly) in a recently completed story (and, for those of you playing along in the future, that story is There Is A Light That Never Goes Out). I originally drafted this post in the wake of International Women’s Day, but sat on it for a while because it ended up being a bit of a monster. I’ve now decided to publish it in two parts, of which this is the first. Clearly.