I am increasingly fielding questions about the fourth Uketsu book, tentatively titled Strange Maps in English, so I figured I should put up some kind of fixed point of reference.
I do like to read strange books!
So, here it is:
As of today, 6 May 2026, the current state of Strange Maps is “in editing.”
The initial translation was completed in April. The first round of edits is underway. Next steps are: correction, copyedits, then proofreading. Then comes the US version edit. Each of these take at least a month, sometimes longer.
Then there are the publishers’ business schedules, which of course influence release dates.
So, there is no announced release date yet. I do not know any more than you do on that front.
I can guess that it will probably be next spring, given past releases, although this winter is a possibility.
For release dates, keep an eye on the Pushkin Vertigo site (although Amazon has been known to beat the official announcement…). The US release date will likely be around the same time, but for confirmation check the HarperVia site.
So, I am sorry to keep you waiting, but thank you for your patience. The strange journey will continue!
I am on kind of a “ghost pictures” kick lately, where I find creepy old places and take long-exposure pictures in front of them while I or a model moves around.
🎵That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spot light🎶
It’s fun and also feels really good when I manage to make my intended picture happen.
But the big problem is, I have trouble finding good places. There are only so many atmospheric abandoned train tunnels around, you know? So I put out a call. I used my monthly column in the local paper to ask peope to send me info on “places that look like they could be haunted.” I wasn’t expecting much, but then…
A man from a local orienteering club got in touch and said he’s seen all kinds of scary stuff in the mountains. Like gravestones standing alone.
Temples left to rot.
Mysterious sheds surrounded by deep holes in the ground.
And abandoned crematoria.
Now, I am well aware that is exactly what I asked for, but might be a bit, well, excessive? I don’t actually want to be haunted and/or cursed.
Or murdered by some hole-digging mountain shack dweller.
Anyway, I’m headed out with him this weekend. I shall be carrying plenty of salt and ofuda. But maybe I’ll get some groovy pictures out of it?
I think I have to finally admit it. I’m a John Hornor Jacobs fan.
The first book of his I read was Southern Gods, a sweaty, gritty myth of music and cosmic horror that I think I picked up in a bundle not long after its 2011 release. I remember enjoying it, and when I revisited it in later years it’s held up.
But I didn’t really plug into him as a name to watch for until I read The Incorruptibles, his alternative history/dark fantasy book of an infernal-powered Roman Empire in the Old West that he into a trilogy.
Since, I’ve enjoyed all the books of his I’ve read (which is all of them but The Twelve-Fingered Boy trilogy), especially A Lush and Seething Hell. There is something about the weight of his prose that makes it feel rooted deep, in history and myth and humanity, while still just being fun.
And so we come to his 2025 ocean-going cosmic horror The Night That Finds Us All.
It’s about Sam Vineworth (known affectionately as Sam Vines, which I would have bet was a Discworld nod but would have lost, according to the author), an alcoholic fuckup but he’ll of a sailor, recruited by a friend to help crew a century-old sailing ship from California to Britain.
The ship is, of course, much more than it appears. It has a shadowed history with more than a bit of blood, and it soon starts to prey on the crew.
Once again, Jacobs brings unpretentious flourishes of near-poetry.
I found myself thinking this voracious ocean came before mankind’s puny endeavors and will remain after, in some near future, eroding the shores and drowning the land and taking all our works with us, dragging them down to the bladderwracked mansions beneath the sea.
The bladderwracked mansions beneath the sea. God, what an image. Or…
The sky kills all the sea’s dreams.
This masterful imagery is matched by what I can only a scholar’s depth of nautical knowledge. Mizzens and reef sails and knots… It’s all here, and I’m not sure I understood it but I also duct think not understanding hurt at all. Because nothing hinged on those details, they only added in establishing that Sam, drunken mess that she is, knows her shit on a boat.
But be not afraid, this isn’t Moby Dick, with page-long paragraphs and endless digressions on marine wildlife. It’s a journey into a dark, cursed netherworld that’s full of dread and scares.
The Japan Association of Translators Book special interest group has invited me to speak online about my budding career as a literary translator and my work translating Uketsu.
I plan to lay out how I got started on this path, the luck behind the Uketsu translations, and perhaps find some advice for those looking to get into the game themselves.
The schedule is April 18th from 3:00-4:30, Japan time. It’ll be on Zoom.
Jim Rion - Translator & Writer 