Writing as an asexual woman of color, journalist and editor Chen has produced a thoughtful if occasionally unfocused look at what it means not to experience sexual attraction. Chen sensitively discusses the social narratives and pressures around sex, and her solicitation of stories from other asexuals or "aces" of various backgrounds, ethnicities, and genders provides the most thought-provoking chapters, which detail how aces of color and disabled aces, in both the United States and the UK, find that their orientation intersects in complicated ways with stereotypes about other facets of their identities. Later chapters explore the wider topics of expectation of sex in relationships, issues of consent, nonsexual romantic friendships, and the marrying of feminism and liberalism with sexual permissiveness; while interesting, this results in the latter half of the book feeling less about asexuality and more about the complex and fluid nature of sexuality and relationships in general--certainly a valuable topic, but perhaps a potential fault for readers hoping for a more focused text. VERDICT Most likely to appeal readers of any orientation seeking a general text about asexuality and its place on the wider spectrum of human sexuality.--Kathleen McCallister, William & Mary Libs., Williamsburg, VA

As national awareness of queer identities and orientations continues to grow, many people remain under-informed about asexuality, wherein people experience sexual attraction differently or not at all. Journalist Chen provides a 101 guide to asexuality, drawing from interviews, scholarship, and her own personal history as an asexual, or ace, person. With a keen eye to intersectional ace experiences, Ace begins to unpack the ways in which our society posits sexual desire as both normal and compulsory, a narrative that leaves little room for the lives of asexuals. Chen recognizes the complexity of these conversations in a world where many spaces remain sex-negative: For instance, disabled allosexuals have fought hard against the stereotype that disabled people don't want sex or are sexually undesirable. But as Chen argues, compulsory sexuality need not be, and should not be, a necessary condition to sex positivity; indeed, true freedom of sexuality means accepting the presence of a wide range of sexual orientations, including asexuality. Ace is a necessary and thoughtful book that accessibly communicates a wide array of ace experiences.

Journalist Chen probes the nuances of asexuality in her well-intentioned yet muddled debut. According to Chen, asexuality exists on a spectrum from "sex-repulsed" to "sex-indifferent" to "sex-favorable," but what links "aces" is their lack of the experience of sexual attraction, which she defines as "the desire to have sex with a specific person for physical reasons." In Chen's own case, she began to identify as an ace in her mid-20s, after realizing that she only ever wanted partnered sex for emotional--not physical--reasons. She notes that Alfred Kinsey deliberately left asexuality off his scale of sexual orientation in the 1940s, and sketches the origins of the ace movement in early 21st-century internet message boards. Drawing on interviews with more than 100 aces, Chen profiles an African-American filmmaker, a disability activist, and a Christian man who, before accepting his asexuality, hadn't considered "that lust might not be a struggle at all." Though Chen succeeds in exploring the full range of asexuality, her stated desire to transcend labels is undermined by a hyper-focus on categorical minutiae, and her analogies (such as a comparison between sex and eating crackers) often miss the mark. Aces will appreciate seeing themselves reflected in Chen's sensitive portrayals; non-aces are likely to remain confused by the concept. (Sept.)