Fiction

Hopefully, over the last few weeks, I’ve given you a lot to think about in crafting characters. That wasn’t by any means an exhaustive list, nor was it meant to say that those elements can never, ever be used. Like with many things, your mileage may vary. Some people don’t mind those elements; even I find them tolerable if a given story makes up for it in other ways or if it seems like a passing mention rather than something the story relies on heavily to drive plot.

I mostly focused on what not to do or how to fix tropes and stereotypes that can do harm when understood outside the context of the bisexual community. I’d like to offer a bit about what I like to see in bi characters. Please note, this is only what I like. Others have different opinions on the matter, and what I say should not be taken as a statement for an entire vast community of people with many views.

In no particular order, this is what I like:

1. Characters who are well-rounded and fully fleshed out. I cringe less at tropes and stereotypes when they are part of the larger personality of a main character. It’s the flatness of a character which makes the bad portrayal more evident.

2. Characters for whom being bi is just a facet of their lives. I don’t really feel like I need a character to have multiple relationships within a story to “prove” their orientation. It’s a lot like real life. Of course, some throw-away line isn’t good either, but there are ways to do it where that isn’t necessary. Just know your character and that person’s life story. Readers may never see it, but the better you know your characters, the better we will, too.

3. Growing into bisexual orientation. I admit, I avoid coming out stories like the plague. They can be incredibly tropey, and I think they’re overdone. That said, when done well, they can be really good, and they can be affirming for many people. We see lots and lots of gay and lesbian coming out stories, especially in young adult fiction. It would be great to see more bi stories! This is also a good way to explore adult coming out, since many people identify in some other way before discovering themselves to be bisexual. A great way to knock the “bi until gay” trope on its ear is to have a “gay until bi” character. It’s realistic, after all.

4. Non-monogamous relationships that aren’t threesomes. Not that I mind a threesome in a story (if done well), but there are so many other options. While it’s not good to assume every bi person wants an open relationship or multiple partners, it is realistic to our community that many people do. I’d like to see that honored in a non-tropey/sexual fantasy way.

5. Characters actually identifying as bisexual. Sometimes, it’s not any more necessary than it is for a character to repeatedly remind us they are gay/lesbian. It can be distracting and unnecessary to the plot. However, we do often get shoved in the “no label needed” category. We have a saying: “anything but bi.” It’s incredibly frustrating to read over and over again characters discovering gay or lesbian identities and actually using the words, while bisexual people avoid the word like they’re going to get struck by lightning for saying it (or any other multisexual orientation, such as pan or omni or sapio). Use the word, please. “I don’t like labels” isn’t the only option.

6. Bisexual characters in relationships with trans people (including non-binary people). This is really important! We bi folks get accused of being binary-minded and/or transphobic. Sometimes, that even takes the form of pitting bisexual-identified people against other multisexual people. This is an opportunity to undo the harm of that stereotype, not to mention a win for diversity.

7. Real struggles for bi-identified people. We have a rich history and culture of our own, including media. There are some real things people deal with. Balancing relationships, working out expressions of our identity, biphobia and bi erasure from both straight and gay people, gender expression, and more. These things look different depending on our other intersections, but there are some common features, just as there are in any community.

Writing bi characters can be challenging for some people. One of the difficulties is that even bi-identified people are sometimes isolated enough from our community that they don’t know about what goes on. There are a number of reasons for that. If you are bi and writing bi characters, get connected. I’ve seen many writers rely on personal experience or stuff they’ve heard (please, for the love of all things writerly, stop listening to Dan Savage on bi issues—that goes for everyone, bi or not). It does help to talk to other bi folks. If you aren’t bi-identified, you’ll need to do a bit more digging, but that’s no different from if you want to write anyone else who is part of a community or experience outside your own.

Next time, I’ll tell you why I like writing people outside the binaries and how it can be a lot of fun.

In the last two parts of this series, I introduced biphobia and bi erasure in fiction and then explained some of the most common bi-erasing tropes. Today, I’m talking about stereotypes. I’m not sure which I dislike more, the tropes or the stereotypes. Both can be all right when handled well; both are simply awful when they’re not.

Here is one thing I don’t understand: why some authors create bi characters (or characters with bisexual behavior) seemingly for the sake of putting them down or giving the story some kind of relational tension.

There are a number of dreadful stereotypes about bisexual people which I’ll get to in a moment. First, though, I want to make an appeal to writers not to do that kind of thing, even for “realism.” Is it true that some gay, lesbian, and straight people are ignorant and even hateful toward bisexual people? Yep. Is it possible to put it in a story effectively? Absolutely. It just has to be done with caution. If you have a character who is ragging on bisexuals, do try to have something—anything—to counter that. If your bi character is behaving badly, try to make sure it’s not because of being bisexual.

If the bisexual character is peripheral—that is, not the main character or the MC’s love interest—I would rather not have them in the story at all than have them be a stereotype or the recipient of put-downs. It’s not necessary for a bi character to show up just to be the cheating half of a relationship, for example. It’s not important to the plot to have a gay character refer to a bisexual person using a slur or disparaging remark in order to be “realistic.”

It would horrify most of us, rightly so, to have a cameo appearance by a person of another race, religion, or nationality only to have a main character say something rude…and leave it hanging. We would expect that another character would correct them or that the cameo would turn into the person learning not to stereotype. Best case scenario, we wouldn’t see random token use of people at all and it wouldn’t figure into the plot.

The same sorts of things can be established without using minority groups as pawns. For example, it’s not necessary to have a cheating partner be bisexual—that person could simply be a cheater. Nor is it necessary to have gay characters randomly remark on anyone else’s perceived sexuality when it’s not part of the plot. A guy’s ex married a woman? Great for him. How about the character not make nasty comments about why that might be, please. If the ex isn’t central to the plot, then it’s just more noise.

For me, the real problem is not in the stereotypes themselves but in having those be the majority of representations. If there’s nothing to counter the stereotypes, we become one-dimensional, even as main characters.

Some not-so-fun stereotypes that are overused in storytelling:

1. “Slutty” bisexual. I mean this in a negative sense. There are some great bi characters who are sexually very free and open and who really, really like sex. I’m talking about the bi character who represents bisexuality by being indiscriminate in choosing partners and who is typically shamed for it. Everyone is fair game. Well, typically that means every cis person who represents cultural norms of beauty and masculinity/femininity. The “slutty” bi usually doesn’t choose non-binary trans or gender non-conforming people. When they do have sex with trans people, they’re usually binary, gender-conforming trans people, and it’s also viewed as an example of the “slutty” bi’s transgressive nature. Other people find this person somewhat off-putting, and they are frequently used as a foil to the good, faithful, monogamous characters.

Why it’s bad: It’s not a good representation of us in isolation. If that’s you’re only way of writing bisexual people, you need to rethink your strategy. When it’s done poorly, it’s all about how the bisexual character can’t keep their hands off other people. In that case, they’re usually not a main character or even an important one—just the “slutty” ex or the person getting sneered at for having too many partners. With nothing to counter it, that makes it look like we’re all that way, and it reinforces the view that we’re greedy. It implies only bisexual people have lots of partners, and it shames people for having many relationships.

How to fix it: Write other characters who are sexually liberal. Write people of all sexualities who live that out in all sorts of ways. I actually love reading such characters. I’ve even written them! They’re fun because they are so comfortable and confident in themselves and because they can explore in a way society says is taboo. This is especially true for bisexual people. At the same time, write faithful, monogamous bisexual people, too. Many of us have been in long-term relationships with only one partner.

2. Cheating bisexual. Someone needs to be cheated on? Sure, let’s have it be the bisexual (or the “bicurious” one) who does it. It’s a milder version of the “slutty” bi. It should be noted that this is the counterpoint to the spouse who discovers he/she is gay/lesbian and then has an affair. I guess at least this version acknowledges we exist.

Why it’s bad: Oh, dear God. I hate this one. Why are the cheaters always bi? We’re expected to be sympathetic to the spouse coming out and having an affair. We’re intended to hate the cheating bisexual, which is why they are typically not main characters. When they are, the problem is always played up as being about bisexuality rather than about cheating. Having affairs is not a bisexual—or even a queer—thing. It’s a human thing.

How to fix it: Again, this can be done, and I’ve played with the idea myself, but it should be a main character, not a passing mention. This should not be some poor woman’s ex who decided she liked dicks better or the “bicurious” friend who decides to experiment with his gay buddy’s boyfriend or the dude who cheats on his hubby just to see if maybe he likes women after all. We get enough of people believing we’ll do that in real life that we don’t want to read it in fiction—especially since we aren’t any more prone to cheating than any other people.

3. Confused bisexual. This is the character who is undecided about their sexuality until they finally pick Team Gay (because they need to get with the other romantic lead, of course). Goes hand in hand with variations on the above two.

Why it’s bad: Often, other characters apply pressure for the person to “pick a side”—and they do. In real life, that’s incredibly harmful and leads to going from one closet into another. I’ve lost track of the number of people who ended up depressed and angry and afraid because they weren’t welcome in queer spaces until they “came out all the way” or who were rejected from queer spaces because they did come out all the way—as bi.

How to fix it: Don’t put a character through that unless you plan to deal with the fallout in a realistic way. Especially do not have another character apply pressure until the person agrees to an orientation. Do not write someone’s coming out only through another character’s eyes. Coming out is a process, so it’s natural that some people might try on a bisexual hat before settling into comfortably and confidently gay or lesbian. I’m in favor of showing this, actually, because it’s reality. I just want it handled carefully because the truth is, many people also try on gay or lesbian hats before settling comfortably and confidently into bisexuality. Even more people try on a bisexual hat, find it fits perfectly, and call it a day—that’s how the vast majority of bisexual people are, in fact.

4. Binary bisexual. This isn’t just a person who only likes (cis) men and women. This is rooted in the belief that all bisexuals only like (cis) men and women. In other words, all bisexual characters only ever have relationships with cis people. Typically, this means there are simply no trans people at all to be found or it means bisexual as an identity is set up in opposition to some other identity (multisexual, pansexual, whatever).

Why it’s bad: I don’t really care what label a person or character uses, but calling bisexual binary is not at all okay under any circumstances. Making up your own definition of bisexuality and trying to apply it universally is also not okay. There are bisexual political organizations fighting this language constantly. It’s poor form to use it in a story. At a personal level, I don’t always use bi either, but it’s the label I choose for activism and visibility. That’s why I don’t care if a person uses the word “bisexual” for a character but get super pissed if the author uses it to set it up in opposition to some “better” or “more inclusive” sexuality.

How to fix it: Include more trans people. Full stop.

5. Unregistered bisexual. This is the character who repeatedly makes comments along the lines of “I don’t like labels” or “I don’t know what to call myself.” It can also apply to situations where the word bisexual could easily be used but isn’t. Also known as ABB—Anything But Bi.

Why it’s bad: Bisexual people have as much right to be represented in fiction as anyone else. To erase us because you feel weird about the word means you need to do a lot more work to understand us. No one asks gay or lesbian people to reject labels; in fact, it’s exactly the opposite (see above on pressuring bisexual people to re-identify as gay or lesbian). It’s not a dirty word and shouldn’t be shameful.

How to fix it: Use the word at least some of the time, and not just “Some people are bisexual, but I’m really gay.” Have characters identify as bisexual. Part of the challenge of writing good bi characters is knowing when you need them to claim an identity and when you don’t. The issue here is avoidance of the word or the identity.

6. Gender-representing bisexual. This is common when there’s a threesome or when a person has multiple relationships over the course of a novel. The women represent femininity, the men represent masculinity. The end.

Why it’s bad: It’s unrealistic, it erases gender non-conforming and trans people, and it implies that a bisexual person’s reason for being bi is that they like “opposites.” We’re treated like straight people enacting heteronormative roles rather than queer people in our own right.

How to fix it: There’s nothing wrong with feminine women or masculine men. There’s no “correct” way to be queer. The problem is in forgetting that we are queer and therefore distinct from straight people, even when our relationships appear “straight” from the outside. Offer variety, and write characters who are attracted to people for reasons other than their perceived gender conformity.

7. Threesome or poly bisexual. This is when the character proves bisexuality via threesome or a poly relationship. Distinct from simply having a threesome or from a person who is polyamorous.

Why it’s bad: Some of us are monogamous. Some of us are polys. Some of us have threesomes. Some of us don’t. The problem with this stereotype is that it once again typically reinforces heteronormativity. There’s a distinct tone of “wouldn’t it be hot to be the guy/gal in a gay sandwich?” That’s porn, not a relationship. It fetishizes gay and lesbian people and reduces them to sex acts. It also fails to recognize the distinction between an orientation and a behavior or the challenges faced by people who are in poly relationships, including more stereotyping and being ostracized by a society that views monogamy as the only acceptable type of relationship. It equates threesomes and polyamory, which are distinct from each other.

How to fix it: Another good time to really look inside the characters. Know them as people. Understand the unique challenges of people who have multiple partners and relational configurations. Polyamory isn’t synonymous with threesome any more than bisexuality is. So if you’re writing a threesome, it helps to know whether this is because your characters are all in a relationship or whether it’s just that they’ve decided to invite someone in to play. If they’re genuinely poly, do some research. It’s not necessary to be poly yourself to write a great relationship or situation, but it does help to know people who are. It’s also important to understand this is not a uniquely bisexual thing. There are gay and straight people who are poly, and poly relationships are not all identical. It would also be great to see some poly relationships where there isn’t a threesome.

7. Proof-texting bisexual. This is the person who has to have sex with multiple genders in the course of the story in order to demonstrate their real, true orientation.

Why it’s bad: Just as there are stories where a gay or lesbian person has sex with someone of the opposite sex before coming out (and this really can be done well without bi erasure/tropes) and it doesn’t negate being gay, it is perfectly acceptable for a bisexual person not to have to prove it. Most of us in real life get sick of being asked what we’re going to “do about” being bisexual.

How to fix it: I know the rule is “show, don’t tell,” but in this case, just go ahead and tell. Have the character say they are bi. Make it part of their back story. Have them come out to themselves and realize their feelings, even if they remain in a long-term relationship. Imply it. Have another character mention something. Have them run into an ex in the grocery store. I honestly don’t care. Just don’t “prove” it, especially if it means implying we’re all poly or non-monogamous. It isn’t wrong to have multiple relationships during a story. What’s wrong is requiring it.

8. Fake bisexual. This is the bi character who upholds the belief bisexuality is for opposite-sex gaze. It ranges from implying the character is not really bi but just pretending to actually having the character pretend as a display for an opposite-sex partner.

Why it’s bad: There are so many, many reasons. First, it’s misogynistic—this one is only ever aimed at women. Second, it implies we know what someone’s sexuality is just by looking. It’s a pretty bold assumption that a woman kissing another woman in the presence of other people is doing it because she’s playing a part. Sometimes, that’s a safer way to explore. Third, it blames the victim. If a woman is doing something for a man’s benefit, there’s a possibility her relationship is abusive and unhealthy. There’s a high rate of domestic violence against bisexual women, including sexual violence. Finally, even if it’s part of a display, there is no possible way to know that she isn’t a fully willing, enjoying participant. That’s policing other people’s behavior, and it needs to stop, even in fiction.

How to fix it: Personally, I would rather not see this one in any book ever, even to call it out. It’s just not realistic. There’s not some vast army of “fake” bisexuals out there giving the rest of us a bad name. If anything, we need to draw attention to men who force women to behave in ways they find uncomfortable. Instead of berating women for their sexual behavior, how about we point out abusive men who make their women “prove” their bisexuality or a society that thinks women are sex toys?

I hope that helps you process the ways in which stereotypes can be used in harmful ways. As I said before, these can also be used in good ways. We just have to be careful that we’re not confusing “realism” and stereotyping. For the rest of the series, I’m focusing on the positives: what I do like to see, why we’re so much fun to write, and my list of favorite bisexual fiction.

As promised, here’s part 2 of the series. I’m breaking it up for the sake of length, so I’m only offering a few at a time. The first set are ways bisexual people are erased or ignored. The second set are ways in which bisexual characters appear in the story but are stereotyped. I’ve offered reasons why these are harmful and how to adjust for that.

Lest anyone get defensive, this isn’t about policing your fictional characters or your writing. Write whatever the hell you want. Just don’t get defensive if bisexual people really, really hate it and call you out on it. I’m not sure why so many writers think it’s fine. We are rightfully angry when people of color, people with disabilities, women, and gay or lesbian people are portrayed poorly (and yes, I realize fully that a person can have intersections of any or all of those; I’m not making comparisons for the sake of politics). Heck, we don’t like it when any people group, oppressed or not, is stereotyped. Why should bisexual-identified people have to put up with terrible representations in fiction, especially when the story could be told without them?

My biggest frustration has been in identifying how and why these are harmful and being met with resistance. Your temporary annoyance that I said that trope was bad is definitely not anywhere near as bad as the actual marginalization bisexual people face in real life. Not only that, this is fiction. That means it came from someone’s head. I’m not policing actual people’s identities or behaviors. I’m asking that we not perpetuate in literature the very things used against people in real life.

Here are some common ones:

1. No one is bisexual. In other words, every book where there is bi erasure ever. The word is never used. The possibility never exists. Sexuality is determined by “gay” behavior rather than identity. (Hint: NO. It doesn’t work that way in real life, either.)

Why this is bad: Well, for starters, we exist. No, really! Even men! It’s true. Also, it negates the existence of non-binary genders. Implied is that there are men and women, and man + woman = straight, man + man = gay, woman + woman = lesbian. Pretty limited and limiting.

How to fix it: If you have a character who has previously had a heterosexual relationship, consider the possibility of it having been meaningful. Get in the character’s head. Is this person honestly only attracted to people of their own gender? If so, what were the reasons for their past relationships? If not, then your character is probably bisexual, and that doesn’t have to be a big thing at all. Their Moment of Revelation can be as simple—or as complex—as if they were gay or lesbian. Dig under the surface to find out.

2. Everyone is bisexual. Everyone is bi! Typical in fantasy or science fiction, especially among alien species or mythical beings. This can be done well, but it can also be done poorly. (It’s also a common assumption that it applies to humans in real life; topic for another day.)

Why it’s bad: It erases us by making it not an actual identity. “Oh, you’re bi? P’shaw. So’s everyone else. That’s not a thing.” Yeah, it is. Besides, in most stories, nothing ever really demonstrates it anyway, except maybe a lot of random threesomes (or a lot of random sex, period). Characters just go about their lives as though this is Genuine Fact, and there’s never any examination of the realities of being out and bisexual or the differences that a fully bisexual species might have from humans. It’s also often done to be “edgy.” Trust me, this is not so. I mean, I don’t honestly feel like I’m an edgy person, so I don’t appreciate being treated like my identity is exotic.

How to fix it: Probably just don’t do it at all unless you can do it with some nuance and show how that culture or society would be different from our own. Also, I suggest not fetishizing us.

3. Gay for you. This is when a character has never been interested in a same-sex partner but all of a sudden falls for someone of the same sex. They usually otherwise show no interest in anyone of the same sex, not even to notice a celebrity is attractive. They spend no time whatsoever thinking about what their hot-for-love-interest means and typically announce to the world (repeatedly) that they are now gay/lesbian.

Why it’s bad: It’s another form of erasure. This trope can be done well if it isn’t done as a way of ignoring an entire identity, but it’s typically in the same category as “gay” behavior means “gay.” Falling for a best friend? Absolutely—can be so wonderful to read, just not when it implies there’s nothing other than gay or straight.

How to fix it: Don’t even make it a gay vs. straight vs. bi thing. This is one time when I think not mentioning any specific orientation works really well. It’s about the feelings more than anything else. As a person who myself doesn’t prefer labels outside of political/social context, I would like to see “I’m not sure how I identify, but I sure do know I like you!” in this case.

4. Gay “Bisexual.” I hate, hate, hate this one. Teenagers will sometimes self-identify as bisexual because the world is geared toward heteronormativity and the expectation is grow up, get married, make babies, retire to a villa in Miami. I didn’t even know the word “bisexual” until I was about 16. Eventually, those kids may identify as gay (some do; some don’t and continue to identify as bi). This is not a thing adults typically do. This trope gets extra rants because usually, the character is pressured into identifying as gay as soon as they show even slight interest in people of the same sex.

Why it’s bad: It perpetuates the myth that bi-identified people mostly go on to be “gay” or “straight.” This is not true. Most gay and lesbian people have never identified as bisexual. Yes, some have, but not the majority, and there are just as many gay- or lesbian-identified people who realize they are actually bi. It’s really, really important to believe people when they say they’re bi no matter what. A lot of bisexual people, especially guys, get talked into identifying as gay because so many people think bisexuals don’t exist. This is awful. We need to practice believing people when they tell us how they identify. Even if someone says, “I’m bisexual!” for five minutes before identifying as something else, believe them. They know best. No one ever has the right to label or pressure another person. No one. Not in real life and not in fiction. If someone identifies as bisexual, you the character or you the real-life friend DO. NOT. GET. TO. SAY. OTHERWISE.

How to fix it: Have bisexual-identified people be bisexual. Try to avoid having gay or lesbian people first self-label as bi. Even if it’s “realistic,” it’s still a harmful stereotype. It’s rarely necessary for plot.

5. Behavior equals orientation. A character has a non-heterosexual encounter. Now they’re Officially Gay. Very similar to Gay for You but often isn’t attached to one specific other person. It’s often used in situations where adultery is the main relational obstacle but isn’t enacted by the main character. For example, “straight” best friend messes with the main character’s love interest and voila! “straight” best friend is now gay.

Why it’s bad: I said it above. Those aren’t equivalent. A person is not gay because they have a same-sex encounter or relationship. A person is not straight because they have an opposite-sex encounter or relationship. Similarly, not having a relationship doesn’t negate someone’s orientation. Oh, and don’t even get me started on how those assumptions erase anyone who isn’t gender-binary. (Of course, non-binary people typically don’t exist in books either, but that’s a rant for another day.)

How to fix it: If it’s not the main character’s journey, just don’t do it. None of us like reading about ourselves as nothing but our sex habits. If it’s the main character, don’t pull a “suddenly gay/gay for you.” Use the same fixes as above.

6. “Now I know why I never liked…”: Any and all previous relationships are now examined and found to have “always” been lacking, although that’s never shown within the text—only in retrospect. No possibility exists that any of them were meaningful in any way, especially not sexually. This is established by the author telling the reader or doing an information-dump explaining how bad it obviously had to have been.

Why it’s bad: Not only is this a horrible way to erase bisexuals, it’s also a terrible way to represent a person’s former love interests. In the case of info-dumping, it’s lazy writing to boot.

How to fix it: Don’t detail specific past loves if they don’t feature into the story. Don’t create former boyfriends/girlfriends just to tell readers how “bad” it was. It’s not necessary to work that hard. Readers don’t need to know that stuff and are generally smart enough to get it without having it spelled out.

7. “No, really, I’m GAAAAAY!”: This happens when a character established as gay enters a meaningful, loving, sexually fulfilling opposite-sex relationship. Instead of examining why that might be, the character just asserts their gayness more forcefully and discounts the relationship as some sort of accident. Nine times out of ten, it’s done to provide a way for a “straight” character to become involved in a same-sex relationship after the person’s partner is out of the picture.

Why it’s bad:  It’s an ass-backwards attempt at not doing the above tropes. It would probably suck to be the partner in that relationship, honestly. It sometimes reads as a weird attempt to “normalize” same-sex relationships in a way that negates every other possible combination.  That’s pretty hurtful, and it implies that bisexual people with opposite-sex partners are in a “straight” relationship (nope). Oh, and did I mention it erases non-binary people?

How to fix it: Please just don’t do this. Let relationships be what they are, and if you plan to have a character clearly in love and sexually enjoying people of multiple genders, call it what it is—bisexuality/pansexuality/sapiosexuality.

8. “I’m bi, but same-sex sex is the best thing ever!”: Well, it might be, if your opposite-sex partner was the only person you were ever with and they were a raging jerk or super selfish in bed or whatever. It might be amazing simply because it’s the first time being with a same-sex partner (but let’s not forget the potential for awkwardness in that situation, too). More often than not, though, it’s used to make it clear that it’s inherently superior for the sake of keeping two characters in a relationship.

Why it’s bad: It makes it seem like those of us who are bisexual are very, very strange. It paints opposite-sex relationships as so inferior that how could a person possibly want one once they’ve experienced the awesomeness of a same-sex encounter—that once you’ve had a taste of how awesome same-sex coupling is, you’ll never want to go back to that lousy het crap again.  It reduces relationships to sex and parts rather than whole people. All by itself, that erases trans people because it’s so fixated on binary bodies/identities.

How to fix it: Just don’t ever have your character say it. Let the sex speak for itself. There’s no need for a character to say or even think “This is way better than when I had to suffer through het sex” or any other version of that sentiment. It’s not necessary, and if you’re relying on it…well, then, your sex scenes aren’t very good.

I kind of get it. These tropes exist because a lot of people who aren’t themselves bi have no idea what to do with us. Here’s a thought: If you can write characters who are a different gender, race, age, nationality, or sexual orientation from you, then you can write someone bisexual even if you are not. It can be done! Many of us are happy to answer questions about what it’s like. We’re happy to look at your work and make sure you haven’t done something hurtful to our community.

I’m not expecting bisexual characters in every story. I just want authors to stop acting like we don’t exist and using horrible methods to ensure they don’t have to write about us. Heck, I don’t even really mind some of the tropes. It’s just that they are typically used as ways to ensure two characters end up together under the assumption that it couldn’t possibly happen otherwise. If you’re tempted to write a bi-erasing trope to get your main characters in bed or in a relationship, rethink it because you are missing an opportunity to smash some stereotypes and mess with societal expectations.

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For more excellent tropes, check out this link. Sadly, nearly all tropes pertaining to marginalized people are negative (whereas other tropes can be positive or used in positive ways). Please try to avoid them.