I’m always fascinated when people say they don’t read books about queer characters because they can’t relate.

So if a queer character was, say, very happy because they got a promotion at work, you wouldn’t understand at all because it’s . . . https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen">Gayhttps://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen"> happiness?

A character is sad, but once you see her wife comfort her it& #39;s https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen"> Lesbian Sadnesshttps://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen"> and too hard for the humble heterosexual to fathom?

I& #39;m confused. (Sorry, it& #39;s https://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen">Queer Confusionhttps://abs.twimg.com/emoji/v2/... draggable="false" alt="🌈" title="Regenbogen" aria-label="Emoji: Regenbogen"> – a niche sub-category of the well-known emotion, so totally understand you may not get it)

I guess once you insert gay characters into a world it becomes a Big Gay Universe and nothing else in it matters but its rainbow-sprinkled gayness

See that horse? It& #39;s gay.

The castle? Gay.

That fountain pen that& #39;s key to a thrilling mystery? That& #39;s probably gay, too.

I& #39;m not being too serious with this, because I find it more puzzling/comical than genuinely anger-inducing, but it does have interesting implications.

I do understand that readers have preferences, and we all connect to some stories more deeply than others. But the idea that you can& #39;t relate to a character on a human, emotional level at all, that you can& #39;t see past their sexuality, is really perplexing to me.