Origins: I wanted to simplify my subject matter. I’d already written Snow Camellia and a few other of that type, Carnation and whatnot, you know. I knew I was prone to flowery prose and being a bit too purple—though, admittedly, I find that’s often more a matter of taste than real critique, it’s my site I can be arrogant. The point is that I was always trying to make everything super big, and not in a natural way. Of course what began with something small and rather quaint in Alstroemeria somehow evolved into Vapor Pressure, so in a way the effort was a failure. But that’s not so much a bad thing as much as a new blessing. Quite frankly, some of my best writing is in sections of these stories. A joke about kanji somehow became the repetitive phrase of endearment and then a sign of ones unchanging inherent nature, both as a blessing and a curse. One thing that was certain was that I needed to refine my palette. I had started to use the general tone of my mentors without really having much in way of experience with their specific school. So, an attempt was made to try and do something similar and learn from it. I’ve learned a lot writing the Mishima stories, and something pretty nice has come from them.

Alstroemeria: Probably the most telling thing that this wasn’t supposed to end up being the beginning which it ended up being is the name itself. It’s a pretty generic flower name which I was using for all of my stories during that period. Effective, of course, because the meaning of the flower is related to the joke of the piece, so it’s not random, it’s just a name of its time. I am not educated in Japanese or Chinese, I have less than an elementary understanding of a good bit of hiragana but Kanji eludes me entirely. That said, the internet exists, and if we cross-reference enough we can even weave our way through un-truths. So, is the character for Bond really the same as Annoying? I don’t know, I’m pretty sure it is, but then recently I’ve seen the Chinese character for Annoying and it is very similar but not exactly. Either way, they at least look very similar, but slightly different, if not just the same. Even being wrong the joke pretty much works. Jokes aside, depicting meandering whimsy of a privileged young man during the mid-Taisho is fun. He’s not our hero really, he’s just the guy who likes to hear himself talk, and we have the unfortunate ability to listen.

River Eel: So, again, I tried to be a little funny. Snakeskin boots become Eel-skin boots. Then there’s the whole bit with the old man and the boy. Fancy, sure, but this probably captured the specific mood that I was trying to get in Alstroemeria a bit better than the original did. Very decadent. We meet Gendo for the first time in all of his willfulness. Not much to say about this one really. The pen started and didn’t stop until the journey was over. Not everything is super deep, eh?

Snow Calico: After having written Sakura in Summer I had a better idea of the relationship between Gendo and Ryuuta, who until Snow Calico was not named Ryuuta. The cat is named Ryuuta, after Sonochihama. I’m a cat person, I love dogs, but since getting my Gigi I’m a cat guy. Pretty simple metaphor for Ryuuta.

“Only the fact that I’ve known suffering, enough suffering to feel qualified to let these youths call me “Sensei” without protesting—that’s all I have, the only straw of pride I can cling to. But it’s one I’ll never let go of.”
- Osamu Dazai, One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji

Mid-April Passed By Unnoticed: Trying my best to do as much as I could with as little as possible. Research, referencing, you know, the most fun things, of course. Success? I don’t know. It’s very short, the conflict is internal though the incitement is external. That’s just how I write though. I like it a lot, because it’s another expression piece. “I’m just the worst.” I had that phrase for a long time, partially inherited and partially self-created. A simple summary of self-hatred, a refutation of the arrogance of the self for the sake of the other. Itself a little arrogant, thinking you’re the worst and all that, and that you’re not just a quick-speaking teen girl in the aftermath of one of the greatest tragedies in mankind’s history. That sentiment, in her, is partially inherited from culture, and partially self-created from her own well of self-knowledge. Before the war women fought to wear hakama and receive higher education, during the war they were made to wear monpe and work in factories. Then, when all was said and done, Eisenhower put them in skirts. History is such a damn interesting thing.

Vapor Pressure: Controversial. To give that mysterious self-loathing girl some kind of history, to attach it greedily to a man twice her age, and then to say that this is the way of things—that such was, of course, what always was the case. It is controversial. Having written Ryuuta into a trap though, and with no clue as to the narrative start for the Spring entry of the Sakura series, I needed a young woman. Frankly, partly because of bias and partly because of ability, I’m unable to write young men with the levity that I get with young women. City Lights, for example, is a lovely college aged story. It’s harsh without being nihilistic. Self-hateful without being too self-aggrandizing. Then you have Puca, and you get the idea. I needed to know who Mitsuyo was in order to write her in Spring, so, let’s have her meet Uncle Ryu again. To explain the interaction thereafter feels weird. Will explaining it cheapen it? Or is there anything of value to cheapen? I think so, and thought so, so I wrote it the way I did. Formality until the over-emotional response brings the familiarity of youth. Mister-this, Mister-that, then Uncle. Small things like that, intentional writing. It’s not hard, but it’s not easy.