By Frankie Martinez
Being aroace doesn’t mean you can’t give out advice on love and relationships. In Ann Zhao’s debut novel, Dear Wendy, first year Wellesley College students Sophie Chi and Joanna “Jo” Ephron are living proof of this. Aromantic, asexual, and fascinated-slash-entertained by the romantic and social dynamics that surround them at school, both Sophie and Jo run their own growing Instagram accounts for Wellesley students to ask anonymous questions for advice about complicated crushes, terrible partners, tricky professors, difficult roommates, and more. While Sophie’s “Dear Wendy” account is full of thoughtful, well-researched answers to questions, Jo’s “Dear Wanda” account gives out advice that seems less than serious at times: “omg dump his ass!!!!!!! get a partner who can treat you right!!!! life is too short for you to be dealing with dickheads!!!!!”
Between their immediate clash of styles and pushing each others’ buttons in the comments sections of their posts and Instagram stories, it’s obvious: Wendy and Wanda do not get along. But when Sophie and Jo meet in real life not knowing about each others’ online personas, they become instant friends, bonding over being aroace and the difficulties that come with it. With fresh insights on queer, BIPOC issues and charming character dynamics, Dear Wendy is a coming-of-age story about two people who want to find love, just not in the way the world wants them to.
As a reader who hasn’t had much experience with aromantic or asexual identities, I really appreciated reading about Sophie and Jo’s journeys. Their personalities are different, as demonstrated by the way they handle their Instagram accounts, but both are united in the fact that being aroace is not an easy path, especially when romantic relationships are often the center of media and storytelling. Zhao deftly portrays this in Sophie and Jo’s very different interpersonal struggles—while Sophie has a hot and cold relationship with her parents, who don’t quite understand her choices from being aroace to choosing to attend a liberal arts college rather than a prestigious Ivy League school. Jo has more support from their family and friends who aren’t aroace, but is very wary of the fragile nature of relationships and how tough it is to be caught in the middle of that, especially as her two roommates play relationship chicken right in front of her.
The novel is written in the first person and switches between Sophie and Jo’s perspectives chapter to chapter. It can be difficult at times to distinguish the narrative voice between the characters, but perhaps this is a function of how similar Sophie and Jo are in their personal questioning of their identities. I related to the fact that Sophie and Jo don’t claim to be experts about queer or BIPOC identities. Much like any person in their late teens or early twenties, they don’t understand everything about themselves. For Sophie and Jo, their aroace impulses or the more romantic impulses of others are a mystery at times, and watching them come together to support and affirm their feelings is very satisfying, even as they get closer and closer to finding out about each others’ secret Instagram accounts.
With a steady balance between character work and perspective on different lifestyles, as well as the bud of a lifelong friendship at its core, Dear Wendy is a tender, wholehearted debut.
Frankie Martinez is a writer, reader, and editor from Southern California. Her prose has appeared in 3 Moon Magazine, Poetically Magazine, and The Winnow. She is currently a fiction editor at Miniskirt Magazine and has a slice of life column at The Daily Drunk Mag. Find out more at frankiemilktea.carrd.co.