Photo Club – I’m Number One*

In April, my photo club saw the end of its “fiscal year,” which means we had a shuffling of the leadership AND we tallied up the points earned throughout the year to choose an overall winner and two runner-ups. And, after months of fretting over whether I should even stay in the club, I came out number one! Kind of. Because, actually, it was a three-way tie between me, the old club chair (who takes beautiful bird pictures) and the new club chair (who takes beautiful train pictures). The two of them then decided arbitrarily to make the final ranking based on age, youngest to oldest. And, well, I’m by far the youngest member of the club.

So. I’m number one*!

In all honesty, that was my third year in the club (I think? It’s all blurring in my old age) and it marked a big turning point in my approach to taking pictures for the monthly meetings. I went from trying to guess what would please the teacher/judge and just being more mindful of taking the pictures I wanted to take.

And, apparently, it worked. Everyone in the club has commented on how recognizable my “style” is (even though I don’t see it) and I’m generally just happier with the whole thing.

Anyway.

Here are some of my favorites of the pictures I took in FY2025.

Tokyo tower at night. Lines of light at the bottom are cars driving past during the long Exposure
Dots and lines and stars and shadows
A small stone Jizo-sama statue on a city street corner. It is wrapped up in a child's coat, red knitted scarf, and pink knitted hat.
Nice and toasty
A kingfisher flying against the background of a lattice-patterned concrete wall
Flyby
The sillhouette of a raptor against a cloudy sky. It is highlighted against a lighter break in the dark clouds.
Turbulence

2025 – Stuff I loved

As I wrote at the end of last year, I think that celebrating the end of one year and the beginning of the next is best done by thinking about the moments of happiness that dotted what was, I think we can all agree, a pretty dark year. And so, I present to you a few of the things that I loved and enjoyed in 2025. I’m going to group them by type because I was blessed with a lot of enjoyment in this past year.

Music

Music has always been a source of comfort and happiness. Seems like I should recognize that more.

Moisturizer – Wet Leg – This album is straight fire. Holy hell. I stumbled on Wet Leg through the NPR Tiny Desk concert and the groove, man, the beat, the dirty, dirty funk grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. This is rock at its nastiest, sexiest, slipperiest best.

Strong Songs: A Podcast About Music – Podcasts are always such a mixed bag. The talky ones depend so much on guests and takes and pandering that even the best can sometimes get bogged down in PR kowtowing. But Kirk Hamilton seems to have built a podcast out of pure love and expertise, which is freaking amazing. Like, every episode is a full on music education, while never getting all high and mighty. Hamilton treats the Mario theme song with the same respect and erudition as he does Miles Davis’s So What. Want to learn about how Jazz works? He’s got you covered. Want to know about the inspirations behind Yoshi’s theme in Super Mario World? It’s there. Want to just bask in the simple genius of Lean On Me? Hope you’re ready to cry.

Books

Jeez, I read so many books this last year, and a ton of them were good. A few were GREAT. Here are a couple. I really couldn’t list them all in a reasonable way. I reviewed them here or elsewhere, so I won’t go into too much depth. Also, anyone who is interested can keep up with my reading on Bookworm.social.

A blue book cover reading Good Boy by Neil McRobert. A man is digging a hole in the ground. A small dog stands nearby, looking rough and ready. A house in the background has yellow lights on.
The cover to Good Boy by Neil McRobert.

Good Boy by Neil McRobert – Click for the full review, but I just want to reiterate, there was so much love in this horror book.

Re:Re:Re:Re:ホラー小説のプロット案 by 八方鈴斗 – Yes, yes, this is a Japanese book and I’m not going to talk much about it, but it was really cool and innovative and surprising. I want to translate it. Someone buy the rights! My review is on the Bookworm page.

Lost in the Dark by John Langan – Click for the review. Man, what a writer. Man, what a collection. so great.

The Philosophy of Translation by Damion Searls – I sometimes forget what a heady, intricate thing I do for a living. Searls shines a light on it that revealed things I never even considered.

Work

I write about work a lot here, but it’s how I spend most of my life and it has dominated so much of my thinking this year that I guess that’s natural. But, I am happy. I love my job. I love working with books and authors and publishers. I love seeing my name on book covers (ahem) and man, I cannot believe how much this work has grown this past year. I am so lucky.

Family

Cheesy and sappy and cliched as it sounds, my family continues to astound me with joy. My son, who turned 13 this year, is growing into an amazing young man, healthy and strong and curious about the world. My wife continues to be the unshakable rock on which we all rest. I am grateful to be able to be with such amazing people every day.

The Sea

I live on the Seto Inland Sea coast. I can walk to the beach in about three minutes. Every day I can, I go to it. Watch the sea birds, listen to the waves, feel the breeze. The sea is big, and constant, and always different. I grew up in a place far from the sea, so it remains something mysterious to me, sometimes even fearful. But when the anxiety roils and the future growls like a hungry beast, I can go to the sea and let it all sink into the deeps.

A distant shot of a small white fishing boat sailing to the right across a grayblue sea. Mountains are barely visible on the horizon. A seagull flies to the left.
Crossing paths

I’m sure there was more that got swept away by my aging memory, but these things stood out. All things considered, 2025 was a decent year for me personally, though I know many cannot say the same. I go into 2026 with only the wish that it does get better, that peace spreads and hate fades and love wins.

Story Time?

In between all all various and sundry ways I find to use my time, I’ve recently been taken by the urge to write stories around pictures I’ve taken (in addition to the novel I’m still plugging away at. And the nonfiction book that still calls weakly for attention. Oh, and work. Work is still there, for the most part). It’s a fun little diversion, but then I find I’m kind of at a loss as to what to do with them. They end up short and, I dunno, kind of more like a mood piece than anything.

I suppose I could submit to one of the many flash fiction sites out there, but that entails a lot of details crap that, frankly, sounds like more trouble than it’s worth. I am what the Japanese call a mendokusagariya.

So I figure, what the hell, why not post them here? That way I can pair them with the pictures and not worry about waiting for acceptance dates and such. It’d be nice to get a bit of spending money for them, but that’s secondary. It’s just fun to write and be read.

In the coming days. Weeks? Months? I guess you can expect to see a bit of fiction work its way onto the blog. Not sure how it’ll go, but that’s part of the fun. Seeing how things work themselves out.

Hell, the only reason I’m taking the time to write this post is to halfway convince myself it’s worth it to even try. Kick the idea around and see if it doesn’t break apart under the tiniest bit of cognitive pressure.

No crumbling apparent yet, so I guess that’s a go for now.

Bathing in Book Love

Despite the risk of getting a little bit too personal, I’ve been feeling kind of lonely lately. Lately being, like, the past five years. Maybe even ten? I don’t know. I’ve lived in Japan, in a relatively small city, for over two decades. The difficulties of socializing as an adult have been compounded by my basic nature as an eternal outsider in Japan and by the fact that I’ve not had an office/company job since 2015.

So, to combat the increasing isolation, I’ve been trying to get out more. I joined a photo club, took Aikido classes (which didn’t work out), started going to book club meetings, and attending more events. But an underlying and ongoing issue is, even when I meet people with similar interests, like books and photography, I’m not really meeting a lot of people who feel the same way about those particular things.

A Japanese woman with glasses in a t-shirt with a purple graduation cap is reading a purple book.
Kotoda Mana “translates” alien poetry into Japanese.

I am more than willing to admit it’s a “me” issue. I’m increasingly hard-headed as I age, and less open to entertaining nonsense. It’s hard to open myself up.

A crowd of people browsing tables lined with books. One man wears a bright green cap in the shape of some kind of plant character, and nearby a woman has a full-head papier mache cat mask on.
The salespeople at Bungaku Free Market are enthusiastic, to say the least.

So, that’s what I tried to do last weekend. I went to the Bungaku Free Market, a roaming event for people who make books—primarily private, self-published, homemade dojinshi stuff—and other art to sell directly to customers in a communal space. I went to meet passionate creators. I went to talk to people who probably don’t think like I do. And I just went to be around books and other book lovers, because I have been one for as long as I can remember.

It was great. Lots of people with lots of interests just bathing in an atmosphere of passion for creating. I talked to people who I never would have ever met otherwise. I saw books I never would have picked up otherwise. And I let myself just get into it. I bought things and discussed things and took pictures that made me nervous.

And I came home with some stuff that I’m really looking forward to reading.

Six Japanese books arranges on a hardwood floor.
The treasures I brought home.

I think a opening myself up a bit more is going to take some time, but book events certainly seem to be a relatively painless way to practice. I just wish there were more of them around here!

A Tale of Two Horror Movies

Much like (from what I hear) the English speaking world, Japan is having a bit of a horror “moment.” In print and on the screen, what has always been a pretty solid side-branch of the entertainment mix has begun to blossom into something bigger and more mainstream. We can point to new authors like Uketsu or Nashi, and older ones bringing out new work like Koji Suzuki’s new novel Ubiquitous, as signifiers in the publishing world. On screens, though, I think the most interesting examples are to be found in shorts, like the YouTube creepfest My house walk-through or (hands down my favorite horror shorts) Fake Documentary Q.

I am not a scholar of the cinema or Japanese horror or anything, but I do keep my eyes open, and I stumbled on a collection of horror shorts on Amazon that were apparently all entrants in a biennial competition sponsored by Kadokawa, the Japan Horror Film Competition. I watched, and there were some real bangers in there, including one called みなに幸あれ/Best Wishes to All. Lo and behold, I later saw a full feature length version with the same name—Ah! I realized. The winner of that competition got their short made into a full-length feature film!

And it was well worth doing. Best Wishes to All—which apparently now has an English release—was a creepy, surreal, original, and ambitious movie. Excellent acting, excellent screenplay, the whole shebang. It also presented an approach to horror that stood outside the usual ghosts and curses of “J-horror” with the kind of social edge that makes good horror great.

The story, essentially, is about a young nurse in Tokyo going home to visit her grandparents in the countryside and discovering a dark secret–one that redefines her entire understanding of life and the world. It also touches on how Japan’s young people are almost seen as fodder for older generations’ expanding lifespans, and the sacrifices of some that society demands for happiness for others. And also, it has old people acting like pigs. Pretty wild.

And when I saw that the second contest collection was out, *and* that the winner movie was also coming, I was hopeful indeed! Shorts were clearly fertile ground for original horror, and Kadokawa et al. were throwing money at it, so I was eager for more. The winner of that round, and the film that came from it, was ミッシング・チャイルド・ヴィデオテープ/Missing Child Videotape.

I think I’m not alone in the eagerness I felt for this one. It seemed to combine some of the same ambition and originality that BWtA had with beloved tropes of cursed videos, haunted mountainsides, and family trauma. The short was a quiet, brooding story with a hefty dose of chilling menace.

The feature film, though… Well, that was something else. I should say here that, while I’m not planning to out-and-out spoil the story, I will be looking at elements that might end up ruining the movie for you. So, if you are hoping to watch Missing Child Videotape—or Best Wishes to All, for that matter—save this to read for later. And watch the latter IMMEDIATELY.

So. Just like the short, Missing Child Videotape is about two young friends, Keita (Kyosuke in the shot) and Tsukasa (Hiromu in the short). Keita gets a package from home which includes a VCR tape. It is one he made as a child, when out playing with his younger brother. The two boys stumble on some vaguely industrial looking abandoned building and play hide-and-seek. The younger brother goes to hide, despite his fear, and is never seen again. The child is, well, missing.

Tsukasa is apparently a “spiritual sensitive” and can see ghosts. He reacts strongly to the tape… Oh! It must be cursed.

Soon after, the film truly diverges from the short. They both deal with the emotional trauma of a lost child and brother, but while the short is all about suggestion and menace and dread, the film veers toward folk horror and weird mountain towns and a reporter running from ghosts… With a dose of time loops and places that don’t exist… Well. Lots of stuff. It never goes wacky with it. It always maintains its slow, heavy, almost emotionless tone. But honestly, from a purely plot-based perspective, it shares more with Shiraishi’s Senritsu Kaiki File Kowasugi! series than with its spiritual companion, Best Wishes to All.

Let’s just say, I have problems with the movie version of MCV. It tries to be too many things and fails at most of them. It takes the “unexplained” much too far, such that it becomes almost nonsensical. Individual elements are fascinating and worth exploring, but they are left behind to fade into background noise, and rather than leaving the fear of the unknown, they left me with the dissatisfaction of the seemingly unconnected. I mean, there was this whole story about how the mountain was a garbage heap for kami that basically went unmentioned for the rest of the movie?! Come on! And the reporter was running from some kind of ghost. Why? Who is she, actually? What is she muttering under her breath when she’s scared? Why is she essentially set dressing most of the time?

I can only assume that the demands of turning a twenty-minute short into a 100-minute feature put too much pressure on the story, and the production team struggled to find effective filler. So, the end result feels like they just started throwing things at it to see what stuck.

Meanwhile, Best Wishes to All seems to avoid that pitfall by taking some of the surreality of the short and leaning into it. Even as it sometimes borders on the absurd, it’s an absurdity that remains rooted in the qualities that made the short work so well, creating a kind of incomprehensible view of reality that is as confounding for the protagonist as for the audience. In expanding the short, the filmmakers preserved its essential nature, just writ large.

Anyway, what does all this signify? I think what I’m getting at is, the value of the horror short today is clearly difficult to translate to long form media, but not impossibly so. I just hope that the pressures of making bigger budget, larger-scale works don’t harm get in the way of the vibrance of the smaller scale scene.