While Reading Riku Onda's "Thursday Suite"

"Thursday Suite" was the first work by Riku Onda that I ever encountered.

Regarding her debut work, "The Sixth Sayoko," I had heard it was "interesting," but I couldn't quite bring myself to pick it up.

The reason was that I had a dislike for coming-of-age novels featuring middle and high school students as protagonists. That hasn't changed much even now; it took me about a year to pick up a novel by Mio Nukaga after I first learned her name.

In contrast, the reason I was able to open "Thursday Suite" so easily was, firstly, that the main characters were adults, and secondly, that they were all "writers."

I tend to be drawn to stories that feature people in creative professions, including "authors," as the main characters.

What kind of works are they writing?

Where do they get the inspiration for their works?

And, if possible, what is the root of their "writing"?

Even though the information available within a novel about fictional characters is limited, I was always eager to turn the pages, wondering how much I could draw out from between the lines.

I suppose I could just read the authors' own essays instead.

But perhaps it was precisely because they were fictional beings that I couldn't help but be curious about them.

Just as the moon only ever shows a portion of its face to us on the ground.

And the women who appear in "Thursday Suite" were all written in a way that tickled and stirred my curiosity.

Among the five, there is Eriko, the non-fiction writer who appears first.

Shizuko, who runs an editorial production company and writes essays about antiques and art herself. In fact, she was writing a novel for a certain reason, and the description of that novel became the image of the kind of novel I want to write.

Naomi, who specializes in psychological suspense, and her half-sister Tsukasa, a literary novelist—I quite liked them when I first read the book.

The process by which they started "writing" in their teens and each walked their own path as novelists stirred in me the thought, "Someday, I want to debut like this too."

However, the reality is that I have yet to write a single work, let alone anything I could call a study.

I spent years without seeing at all where I should pick up ideas or what I should write about.

When I opened "Thursday Suite" again, the biggest difference from when I used to read it repeatedly is that I have now become a fledgling "writer" myself.

I am now involved with art history—a subject I once felt so trapped by that I even wanted to distance myself from it—through the act of "writing."

When I questioned whether I should just keep working for low pay, relying on the unreliable dream of being promoted to a full-time employee, I realized that the desire to "make writing my job, if possible" was still there within me.

I started a blog on Ameblo, thinking I just needed a place to "write," and began throwing in whatever came to mind, regardless of the genre.

About the books I read.

Personal notes like a diary.

And art.

Among these, the articles related to art were the most well-received.

About a year has passed since I started writing longer articles occasionally, once or twice a month, whenever the mood struck.

On a whim, I searched for "art writer recruitment" and found a page for writer recruitment on "bitecho" (now the web version of Bijutsu Techo).

"I want to do this."

The words slipped out of my mouth.

"I want to write here, no matter what!"

Even though the bitter memories of being repeatedly rejected during job hunting occasionally crossed my mind, I wrote the application email.

Is it polite?

Is it easy to read?

Is my self-promotion done properly?

I had others look over the finished draft.

I did everything I could.

After that, I wrote and sent in "three sample articles and project proposals" as requested, went to the interview... and that brings me to where I am now.

Since receiving the notification of my hiring, I have just been writing.

I searched for exhibitions I thought I could write about, developed proposals, and pitched them.

The genres I covered were initially limited to Western art, but like a turtle slowly poking its head out, they have gradually expanded.

Above all, I am aware that the breadth of my own interests has expanded.

And now, I have even reached the point of saying such cheeky things as these.

"I don't want to do the same thing as everyone else!"

"Just explaining the paintings isn't interesting enough!"

Well then, "what more can you add?"

That is the point of struggle every single time.

And even though I know I will suffer while worrying, groaning, and working until it is finished, once it is over, I find myself thinking about the "next" one.

Was that a line from Eriko in 'Thursday Suite'?

"It's a cursed business, isn't it?"

Truly, it all comes down to that one phrase.