Sounds Fake But Okay is a friendly exploration of the “rules” of romance, sexuality and dating, and what society might be like if those “rules” were broken. It is written by Sarah Costello and Kayla Kaszyca, the hosts of the podcast of the same name.
The podcast initially started as an offshoot of the two hosts’ attempts to make sense of dating, romance and sexuality, and (for one host) figure themselves out along the way. In the book, having had time and space to make sense of the world (and make ~300 podcast episodes) the authors are now encouraging people of all orientations to try asking the kind of questions that they ask each other. Their aim here is to show that most of the rules humans have about dating, romance, and partnership – and even wider topics like families and gender – are not unchangeable requirements of life but are instead patterns and habits that societies have collectively locked themselves into.
This process of setting the defaults aside and asking questions about the rules of romance/dating/society is phrased as putting on the “purple aspec glasses”, an analogy which to me effectively conveys the authors’ aim of encouraging readers to explore in a controllable, temporary, non-binding way. (Note: “aspec” is an existing slang term for the “asexual spectrum“; the range of different orientations under the wider umbrella of asexuality). The authors make clear that they are not using the book to say “one way of living in the world is right and another way is wrong” but instead to say “any way you choose to live is good, as long as you’re consciously thinking about and choosing it for yourself”, a standpoint that I greatly respect.
Each chapter is based not just upon the authors’ views but on information and opinions sent in by surveyed podcast listeners. I found this aspect to be a really important part of the book, because the range of perspectives and life experiences shared in the survey answers gave me new ideas to think about. Having examples of people who have actually chosen some of the paths discussed, or thought through and personally defined their attitude towards dating and relationships, made those alternatives feel much more feasible, which added to the book’s overall tone of kind, grounded optimism.
Speaking of terminology, the book opens with a dictionary of useful terms, which contains concise definitions that don’t get too far into the weeds of excessive detail. However, one minor nitpick with the dictionary is that it being in alphabetical order meant the first word was “allonormativity”, a word that requires already having clear definitions of allosexuality and allromanticism, which appear below it. I can’t help wondering whether the dictionary would be most effective if the core blocks of asexuality and aromanticism, and their allo- counterparts, were the very first words, while the words that built upon them came later. (I’m aware this is a very pedantic complaint!).
I breezed through the book quite quickly both times I read it, partly because I’ve previously researched a lot of the concepts discussed and overthought some of the topics, and partly because the two authors have a friendly, personal style that is very easy to follow. Each chapter is led by one of the two authors, with some jointly-written sections in each. In most cases, the authors’ written voices are very similar, so changes in viewpoint can be invisible. Usually, the type of experiences that each author describes is enough to identify who is currently writing, though sometimes it’s only clear when they mention the other author’s name.
“[But] society likes to make us think that romantic relationships are inherently better, deeper, and/or more valuable than other relationships just by nature of being romantic, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. When we say decenter romantic-sexual relationships, we do not mean toss them out the window never to be seen again. What we mean is that each relationship any one person has should be considered on its own merits – the strongest or most important relationship in your life should take that title because of the bond you share with the other person (or people), not merely because you kiss them or have sex with them”
Having now listened to a few episodes of the podcast, their spoken voices are also confusingly similar. I should note that listening to the podcast is not a requirement to enjoy or benefit from the book. However, existing fans of the podcast are likely to enjoy the bonus “making of the book” podcast episodes linked in each chapter, while fans of the book will probably find much to enjoy within the podcast.
Overall, Sounds Fake But Okay succeeds in its aim of encouraging a gentle examination of the status quo. For me, as I have already done a lot of this poking and prodding, the book is more of a refresher than a lesson, and more of a reassurance than a revolution. But for someone who is questioning their orientation, or who has newly settled upon the terms asexual or aromantic, I believe this book has the potential to be very reassuring and helpful. One caveat with this recommendation is that the benefit you get from the book will somewhat depend on how similar you are to the authors. For example, I would hesitate to recommend this book to my asexual co-worker, who is in her mid-forties, as her life experiences are so different to the experiences of Kayla and Sarah that I’m not sure how many of the examples, references, and analogies they use would be relatable for her. But if a friend in their twenties or early thirties asked me more about asexuality, Sounds Fake But Okay would be at the top of my recommendation list.