I published a book about English patterns twelve years ago. I think my motivation for it was to share with more people the free-spirited atmosphere of knitting overseas, which I loved. At the time, I couldn't stand the discrepancy between the worldviews of Japanese knitting and those abroad, and I was struggling to do something about it.
I was 38 at the time. Being that age, I was working hard, but I had no idea how readers would perceive me, and I was simply confused by the strange excitement surrounding the book. My editor and I felt a rollercoaster of emotions every day: a combination of surprise, disappointment, and joy.
Although I didn't see it myself, there was apparently a lot of online criticism, and my sister couldn't sleep after reading it. As a result, I decided not to express my true feelings in the writing I published online for free. I couldn't let my sister worry any more.
After a whirlwind of time, a classmate from university got married in Kansai, and I was invited to his wedding reception. I was looking forward to seeing my orchestra club classmates again. However, I was a little nervous because I hadn't had a chance to see them since I started working in knitting. I was sure they would ask me what I did for a living. I wondered what they would think about it.
There were two fellow woodwind players at the wedding venue, one of them a bassoonist working for a newspaper. We both played double reed instruments and were very close in university, so it was nice to see each other again after so long. I think we even talked about the details of my book being published while we were catching up on various things. They smiled and said, "There's no point in publishing a book that doesn't cause controversy. It's a huge success!" I still remember that look on their face.
I didn't regret publishing the book, but I was exhausted from dealing with the events that followed, so I was very happy and relieved to hear such confident praise from someone in a completely different field. It finally dawned on me that publishing a book was worthwhile at that moment.
Now that I'm 50, I feel nostalgic and envious of the passion I had at 38. As I get older, I can see what's going on around me more clearly and begin to consider different perspectives. That itself is a wonderful thing, but looking at myself at this age, I think that 38-year-old me was quite interesting.
I'm planning to publish my next book through amirisu keeping in mind that "there's no point in publishing a book that doesn't cause controversy." I want to explore what kind of book people will remember for years to come.
This will be the last of these essays. Thank you for your continued support.
In my next post, I'd like to present a rewrite of "Tokuko's knitting career and journey," which I published in a previous blog.