Ace Book Review: "Aces Wild: A Heist" by Amanda DeWitt

 "This was not a love story... but there might have been a little love along the way."

Growing up, I went through a period where I found myself deeply intrigued by spy thrillers and heists. Lucky for me, while I was going through that period, there were several young adult books that featured teen-friendly versions of these concepts, usually delivered with humor, fun intrigue, but also, in many cases, romance. In general, whether geared towards adults or teens, it feels like it’s generally understood that these concepts and romance (or, for the adults, often sex) are intrinsically entwined, and are often part of the mystique. So, although I’ve always thought that spies on the asexual spectrum would probably get more work done than, say, James Bond, I’ve naturally drifted away from heists and spy stuff over the years due in large part to not really finding what I’m looking for in these genres anymore.

So imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered a book whose entire concept was just that – a group of asexuals getting embroiled in all sorts of heists and hijinks, set against the backdrop of Las Vegas casinos. That’s exactly what the book Aces Wild is all about and let me tell you, it was a terrific ride. Aces Wild tells the story of Jack Shannon, the youngest child of Las Vegas casino maven Eileen Shannon, whose world gets absolutely rocked when his mother is arrested. Right away, Jack suspects his mom was sold out by a crime boss named Peter Carlevaro, Eileen’s former ally and lover, with whom she now shares a strained relationship. Jack is convinced that Carlevaro revealed information to get Eileen arrested as part of some revenge scheme, and so he’s willing to do just about anything to bring Carlevaro down and try to help his mom in the process.

However, it becomes clear very quickly that Jack can’t do it alone. After an initial doomed attempt, his oldest sister offers him the distraction of inviting some friends to Vegas to take his mind off the family troubles while she tries to sort everything out, which gives Jack an idea. Although he doesn’t have any friends at school or in his day-to-day life, he does have a far more meaningful group of friends that he connects with online. Jack and these four friends make up what they consider to be an online asexual support group. Having met online in various ways, they spend their days chatting about their favorite fandoms, giving each other advice, and generally supporting each other as they navigate the world as young teens on the asexual and/or aromantic spectrums.

Right away, I absolutely love this concept – both the plot of the story and the idea of an online asexual friend group. It serves as a great way to have multiple aspec people involved in the story, thus providing several moments of representation and allowing the story to flourish. Jack is obviously the main character, and the story is told through his first person POV, so we’re mainly getting his story and seeing things through his unique lens. But having his friends there allows a diversity of identities, experiences, and presentations to exist in the story, leading to even greater representation. For example, part of Jack’s story involves harboring a crush on one of his friends, Remy, and how he navigates these feelings while everything else is going on. If Jack were the only aspec character in the story – or even if both Jack and Remy were – the representation would still be fantastic. But because there are other aspec people in the story, we’re allowed to explore all the identities even more and are encouraged to see all these as distinctly different experiences.

In my opinion, one of the best ways to show the validity of aspec people is to show aspec people of all kinds, and that’s exactly what happens here. Having Jack navigate his feelings for Remy allows there to be a healthy dose of exploring what it’s like to experience romance as an asexual person, but because one of Jack’s other friends, Gabe, is an aromantic asexual, Jack’s identity isn’t the only one we get to see, consider, and accept. Through the five-member friend group, we also get to see how being aspec is naturally integrated into a person’s life – just one part of their personality, but nevertheless important enough that it shapes a lot of their decisions, as well as how they relate to the world and to each other. This allows for a great variety of aspec people to exist, bringing in other parts of their life to make them even more unique. For instance, turning back to Gabe for a second, not only is he AroAce like me, but he was also my same religion. It was a level of representation I didn’t think I needed, but which left me feeling surprisingly seen, even though it’s only a small part of the story. (He also happened to be from a town in Pennsylvania not far from where I grew up, which amused me to no end.)

As I said, however, the story’s main vehicle is Jack, whom I really enjoyed as a protagonist. He’s a hot mess with a heart of gold, and the makes him a very endearing character to follow, as well as a very relatable one. Even the way Jack describes his aspec journey feels very relatable to me, as it’s a journey that starts with him not understanding the things that everyone else around him seems to understand and then slowly finding himself through online fan forums – a path not unlike my own. He even found the term at around the same age I did. In chapter six (quite a bit earlier than other ace books I’ve read), Jack gets more in depth with his own feelings and experiences, diving into the frustration of other people not understanding what it’s like… and also the unexpected joy and feeling of being seen when you find people who do.

Something I’ve complained about before on the blog is the fact that it feels like aspec characters are never allowed to have other aspec characters to rely on. While our allosexual allies are incredibly important and I’m sure many of us value them (I know I sure do), sometimes media makes it seem like an aspec person – or even just someone with those vibes – is somewhat an island. As such, their experiences tend to be isolated and they go through the process of finding or accepting their identity alone, or with only a small amount of help. That’s part of why I love the idea of Jack having friends who can understand what he’s going through. Not only that, but the narrative makes it clear that in some cases, these friends have been influential in helping each other find their place on the asexual spectrum in the first place. In Jack’s case, learning about being asexual comes thanks to Gabe and Remy, whom he meets for the first time on a Star Wars fan forum, eventually becoming friends with them, and then picking up other aspec friends along the way to form the five-member group we see throughout the story.

The story also goes out of its way to make sure to define terminology – from “asexual” to “aromantic” to “asexual spectrum.” The narrative lets aspec identities come up very early and very organically, but then allows those things to be defined/described in greater detail when it makes sense, which I thought was really well done. For many of us, the metaphors used in the narrative may feel familiar, but that’s exactly what makes them so perfect – they are applicable in so many cases and in so many ways. For an example of this, Jack discusses feeling like a puzzle with a missing piece, a missing piece which the word “asexual” helps find and put into place. He describes the feeling of realizing he’s not broken and there’s nothing wrong with him, but rather has a valid way to identify, and the fact that other aspec people help him realize this fact about himself is terrific to me.

Of course, it doesn’t sugarcoat that these things are difficult and sometimes lonely. Like many of the books I’ve read and reviewed, this book acknowledges that aspec people are rarely portrayed in media, and how trying to figure out your identity and feelings can be difficult when there’s no template. Jack’s feelings for Remy are difficult for him to parse out precisely because he knows falling in love as an aspec person isn’t going to look like the love story you might see in a Hollywood movie. In fact, when he discusses his crush, it’s not as some thrilling, wild, exciting thing – it’s as something that confuses him and causes him consternation, and I personally like that. It’s not portrayed as being a bad thing or something he hates, because he thinks Remy is an amazing person; instead, the thing that upsets him is how confusing it is and how difficult it is to navigate concepts like romance and dating when you don’t experience sexual attraction.

I also like the fact that Jack and Remy’s relationship is an important element of the story, and yet manages to exist without taking over the narrative. Spoiler alert! They share several key moments together and Jack struggles with his feelings for them (Remy is non-binary and thus uses they/them pronouns), but when the pair do eventually affirm their feelings for one another, it’s in a very sweet and understated way. The romance is important, but it doesn’t take away from the friend group, nor does it take away from the other relationships in Jack’s life, such as the complicated one he shares with his family. Additionally, many of the aspec romances I’ve read thus far involve one character being aspec and the other being an understanding and accepting allosexual partner. So it was quite nice to read an understated romance story where both people in the romance are aspec, and where that doesn’t change, get called into question, or have to be justified at all.

Again, I sincerely appreciate that this struggle is also allowed to exist alongside the struggles of an AroAce character. Jack and Remy can figure out what romance looks like while they’re asexual, and their experience is valid. Meanwhile, although Gabe is more in the background, the novel acknowledges his own struggles as someone who experiences neither romantic nor sexual attraction. Early in the story, the friend group runs into a disagreement when one of the members turns out to be a little younger than they thought. Gabe, who is a bit older than the other friends, feels a bit ill-used by this, like he should have had a say in who he was talking to online, and even wonders if their younger friend knows for sure that she’s asexual. This is highlighted as an unpleasant position for him to take, and it certainly is, but I appreciate that while the story doesn’t condone the attitude, it also explains it in a way I found refreshing. Jack even acknowledges that Gabe as an AroAce person is “functionally invisible in a world where everything seemed to be built around settling down with a romantic partner.” Gabe himself points out that it took him a while to find his identity and accept it, so it’s a struggle to accept that one of his dearest friends might not be who they say they are.

Although this tension is resolved a bit quickly and safely, I love that it happens. I love that it’s messy, but also both sides make sense. I love that Gabe’s position is allowed to stand, but that there is allowed to be some push back, as well as a reminder that “sexuality can be fluid, or at the very least a journey.” I’m never a huge fan of ace discourse, but in this case, it feels like a good way to bring up these complex topics and make people think more deeply about them in a way that another story wouldn’t have been able to. This one is able to do it precisely because it allows for several diverse aspec characters to exist side by side, and I’m grateful for that fact.

In general, this is something else I really appreciated about the story – the fact that aspec identities are important to the narrative right off the bat. I love watching characters slowly discover their identities, as has been the case of many of the books I’ve read and reviewed for this blog; beyond that, I think those types of stories are very important, especially for young people who may likewise just be learning about their identity and trying to figure things out. But I also think it’s extremely valuable to have stories about people who already know and accept their identities, even while they’re still trying to work out how those identities fit into their lives as a whole and how to navigate the world while aspec. These themes come up a lot in the story in ways that I find well done, all while again not taking away from the plot. We can still have fun within the story’s setting and its plot, but we’re also allowed to explore the asexual spectrum while we’re at it and we’re allowed to play around in a place where our aspec characters are safe with each other and safe within the narrative, which is something I love to see.

My only real (admittedly very tiny) complaint is that I found the plot rather easy to predict, meaning it was probably a little safe in the grand scheme of things. So if you’re desperate for something very spy-esque or full of heists, as I mentioned in my intro, you’ll likely be somewhat sated, but probably not completely satisfied. But if you want a very fun ride with a great protagonist, lots of diverse aspec characters coupled with some other diverse representation, and a humorous narrative coupled with lots of heart, then I highly recommend this book. And, a bonus for you Critical Role fans out there: the audiobook is narrated by Robbie Daymond who you may recognize from the show’s third campaign. Whatever way you slice it, this book was a delightful and entertaining read, one I definitely appreciated.

In general, I’ve been identifying as AroAce for a long time. I’ve been running this blog for over three years, meaning I’ve spent countless hours of my life talking about being aspec and what that means and defining terms. I’ve even done over half a dozen of these book reviews to date. But even so, I still can’t get over the simple, wonderful pleasure of being represented in a book. As I’ve said before, I don’t need to be represented in everything and I don’t always need to experience aspec characters in order to enjoy a story. But even so, there’s nothing quite like experiencing a story where the struggles and triumphs of my identity are explored in fun, creative, and often moving ways.

At the beginning of Aces Wild, Jack Shannon tells us his story is not a love story, even if it’s what we might expect. However, by the end of it, he admits that it is a love story, but that that love takes on many facets. He admits that love is not simple and that he assumed love was not something he wanted or was even allowed to have, but I find it very special that the romantic relationship he attains is only one part of that love story. Rather than just a romance, it’s a love story between friends, between family (however broken), and perhaps even a bit of love for oneself. Jack’s path is winding and rocky; he does things and discovers things that cause great chaos in his already crazy life. But at the end of the day, he knows he’s loved, which I think is all any of us can hope for. And I especially love the fact that this is all delivered in a fun, flashy, funny, and thoroughly aspec package that I truly enjoyed.