On whether or not my work qualifies as "feminist"

     I think I’ve done a decent job so far of not flat-out discussing my book on this blog, but I’m book-dropping now, in part because it fits with the predominantly feminist train of thought I’ve been on lately, and also because, to be honest, it’s what’s foremost on my mind right now.
     A friend called me from Los Angeles last night, having read the book, and wanting to offer me suggestions. Among other useful criticisms, he said he had difficulty accepting the kick-off to the story, or, to use my less preferred but formal terminology, the “inciting incident.” At least one other reader had similar reservations.
     Needless to say, a weak inciting incident is a bad bit of business, but in addition to whatever trouble it creates for the plot and the plausibility thereof, I worry that it undermines the book’s feminist credentials.
     I call my book a feminist text for the simple reason that it deals extensively with the challenges women face, and one strong woman who dares to be challenged, yet the whole of the plot hinges on that woman’s rather dangerous decision to get into the vehicle of a strange man, a man whom she’s just met at a roadside gas station a few minutes earlier. Would she actually have done so?
     Readers who were skeptical of this moment may not have said this directly, but from an objective standpoint, it’s hard not to see this as a classic case of male privilege clouding an author’s ability to write an authentic female character.
     A few words in my defense.
     First, I try to put Abida in a desperate situation, where the need to catch a ride is pressing enough for her to risk a choice that she might not have risked otherwise.
    Second, I give her character a rebellious and more than a little reckless streak, and I place her at an angry point in her life, such that the very renunciation of caution has a certain appeal for her.
    Finally, I try to make it clear that at the time of accepting Dig’s offer of a ride to Baltimore, Abida’s doing just that, and nothing more.  The decision to travel with him to New Orleans is arrived at much later in the game, when she has a clearer sense of who he is, and a greater basis for trusting him.
     In short, I tried to write Abida with utmost sensitivity to the risks she faced as a woman in a man-rigged society, not to mention a woman of color and a Muslim, but the very fact that I was comfortable with my end-product while readers continue to be cautious leaves me wondering if perhaps my metaphorical phallus were getting caught in my face.
     Is all this a shameless, backhanded plug to get more people to read the book, or the beginning of the book, and offer feedback?
    Most certainly, but until this book goes to press, feedback will continue to be cherished!