TandeWrites

Welcome back to another day of me committing to reviewing all of my favourite reads of the year so far. Today we’re reviewing Dear Wendy by Ann Zhao, one of my favourite reads from the first half of the year. You may notice that this one is a bit of an outlier to my usual favourites—my tastes tend to skew a little dark and more fantasy and horror heavy—but, as an asexual who is always on the hunt for authentic representation, I knew I was going to love this one.

Despite knowing she’ll never fall in love, Sophie enjoys running “Dear Wendy”, an Instagram account that offers relationship advice to students at her college. When Jo―also a first-year student―created their “Sincerely Wanda” account, it wasn’t at all meant to be serious or take off like it does―not like Dear Wendy’s. But now they might have a rivalry of sorts. While tensions are rising online, Sophie and Jo are getting closer in real life, bonding over their shared aroace identities. As their friendship develops and they work together to start a campus organization for other a-spec students, can their growing bond survive if they learn just who’s behind the Wendy and Wanda accounts?

This book felt like the warmest hug. Not only was this a hugely relatable story about floundering through the college experience, it’s about friendship and figuring out where you want to go in life. Just like the tagline where it says “a love story… but not the kind you’d expect”, it’s about these relationships that feed your soul and make you feel loved within your family, friendship, and community. I also loved the theme of loneliness and the loneliness you feel when you’re not in a romantic relationship but seemingly everyone else is and that is the centre of their universe, and we see our two main characters struggling with what their future is going to look like if they don’t have a romantic partner when it seems like all of society builds their life off of the idea that they are going to have one.

I don’t tend to read a lot of contemporaries anymore, but I’ve been dipping my toes back into reading more of it because that’s where I tend to find a lot of specific queer representation, and I’m glad that I picked up this book. The asexual and aromantic representation in Dear Wendy is a breath of fresh air, and I have still not stopped thinking about it ever since I read the book earlier in the year. There are such great conversations about the aphobia in our society and the erasure within the queer community, and these topics were talked about in such a profound and moving way, and I was on the verge of sobbing my way through the second half of the book. I also liked the side characters’ sapphic relationships, but I will iterate that this is not a sapphic book despite the Goodreads tags. The main characters are asexual and aromantic. They do not end up together romantically; they end up in this kind of queerplatonic relationship. They love each other, but they’re not in love with each other, if that makes sense.

I loved both Sophie and Jo. They are different in a lot of ways, but also so similar. I really understood why they got along so well. I like the contrast of the advice they give in their Instagram posts, with both Wendy and Wanda having very different styles of advice but still giving good and well-thought-out opinions to young people. There was a lot of emphasis on communication, being honest, and living with who you are. To me, the best part of this book is when it talks about breaking up with your best friend, and I don’t think that’s something which is talked about enough.

Dear Wendy is the platonic love story of my dreams. I’m always searching for more contemporary stories that explore the nuances and complexities of being aroace, and this was certainly it. This book is a platonic comedy with an exploration of a-spec identities and college life and teenager-y feelings, and is ultimately a love story about two people who are not―and will not―be in love. I loved that, while Sophie and Jo are both settled in their identities and this is a book about being aroace rather than discovering asexuality, they still had societal pressure-induced insecurities and anxieties. It felt like a piece of my own life had been put onto the page.

If you like aroace representation, Chinese female main characters, young adult contemporaries, and a touch of secret identities, this one is for you. Ann Zhao really knocked her debut out of the park.