A long-awaited picture book project. [Letters to the Hand God ⑤]
I received a request for the first time in a while and wrote a small story for a picture book.
I think it had been six or seven years since I stepped away from writing stories due to various circumstances.
Then, the other day, I received a message from a publisher I used to work with, and I wrote a story for three-year-olds.
It wasn't for a single picture book, but for a story corner in a magazine.
Since I had to fit the format of a picture book within a limited number of pages, my way of thinking was a bit different from when I create a standalone book. Also, because it was a magazine that required a strict awareness of the target age of three, I recalled my past work and my own child-rearing experiences to get back into the swing of things.
In the end, I wrote three stories before getting the final OK. The first two were rewritten based on the editorial team's judgment that they might be a bit too difficult for three-year-olds.
Ultimately, I was relieved to be able to write a story that they said was "absolutely wonderful!"
On top of that, the second story I submitted was accepted for another magazine aimed at older children, which I am very happy about.
It was my first job in a long time, and it was a lot of fun.
After receiving a request, there is naturally a lot of back-and-forth with the other party before the story takes the form of a book.
In this case, I rewrote the story itself twice, and even for the third manuscript that we decided to move forward with, I continued to exchange messages and rewrite the fine details many times.
Multiple "worlds that look the same but are slightly different" are born—I don't dislike that process.
It feels a bit like I am depicting a parallel world.
The lines are just a little bit different.
The situation is just a little bit different.
Since this is the case even for a very short story in a magazine, when I write longer reading materials, the variation of those "slightly different worlds" expands significantly.
As I write stories that change little by little, the world sometimes becomes very different from the beginning.
The setting changes, or the people they meet change. Because what the protagonist thinks and learns there also changes, many, many character portraits that are "the same but not exactly the same" are drawn in my heart.
When I reproduce multiple parallel worlds within myself like that—ah, I feel that the real world must be the same.
If there are multiple parallel worlds in the stories I write, it is natural to assume that parallel worlds exist in the reality I live in as well.
I am here now, having chosen just one world from among them.
People often say that there is no such thing as "what if," but I can't help but feel that the world is made up of countless "what ifs."
The "reality I didn't choose," the "what if I had done that back then..." still exists somewhere, and it's just that I didn't choose to "be" in that world.
I think that is very similar to the many "slightly different" stories I wrote that didn't become books, but that I certainly did write.
According to research by Professor Barbara Sahakian of the University of Cambridge, "people make up to 35,000 decisions a day."
From small decisions like what to eat or what to wear, to major ones that might change your life.
When I imagine that a "parallel world I didn't choose" is born every time, the way the universe expands is endless!
I am living in the "here and now," which is a tiny point in that endlessly expanding universe—as I cherish that mystery and think about what kind of choices I will make to live from here on out, my heart feels bright and light.
After all, I can freely choose the world I want to live in every time I make a choice.
There are tens of thousands of chances a day to choose the path I wish to follow.
Even if you don't need to be conscious of every single choice, when you suddenly realize it, thinking that you are moving toward a brighter path makes your heart very light.
Even when you think you've moved in the wrong direction, you can just choose to move in the direction you like in your next choice.
35,000 times a day. Moving freely, as you like.
That is what it means to live!
By the way, one recent choice I am deeply glad I made is calling for articles about "#hands."
I ended up calling for articles unexpectedly at the end of the year, and actually, I myself was quite surprised that I had done so.
That is because until I started writing that article, the idea of a call for submissions wasn't on my mind at all. Once I started writing, before I knew it, it had become a call for submissions.
It feels like I shifted into a parallel world where I "call for articles about hands" while I was writing the article.
And by choosing that path, I feel like I have found several "doors" I had been looking for for a long time.
Since I've gone to the trouble of finding these doors, I intend to move into those worlds.
And I hope to turn what I see there into articles little by little and deliver them to you all.
I'm a little nervous about whether I can write them well—but instead of hesitating, I will keep carrying myself toward the world where I can write them.
Now, in connection with this "picture book work," I would like to introduce three articles from the "Letters to the Hand God" magazine that delivered thoughts on "hands" in the form of fiction, such as novels and poems.
First, this piece.
Tsukino's "Novel | Hands that Touch the Soul."
Tsukino participated in the project with a novel, but she is also a poet who scatters beautiful words throughout the world of note.
Tsukino's world treats every single word as carefully as a jewel in her hand. That charm overflows in the novel I am introducing.
The setting of the novel is a doctor's office in a hospital.
I really like the passage below that describes that space.
In the one-meter radius world between the doctor and me, only words with the texture of pure white cotton and gazes like spring sunshine exist. The heartbeats that naturally overlapped always played a comfortable melody.
The heartbeat of the 'teacher' that shouldn't actually be audible to the ears.
Yet, it feels very natural for it to overlap with 'my' heartbeat. The sound resonates so comfortably that I feel as if it reaches all the way here—.
Tsukino-san's writing, where emotions are lovingly woven into the scenery.
I think it's wonderful.
For the rest of the story... please visit Tsukino-san's room!
They have also contributed a story here.
Hanakopter-san's, '[Story] When My Body Disappears'.
I will quote from near the beginning.
It was in the middle of lunch with a colleague. It happened suddenly.
'Huh...'
Machiko noticed that the little finger on her left hand was gone.
(Omitted)
'Machi? Is something wrong?'
Her colleague Kumi calls out to Machiko, who is acting strange.
'No, I just got some dust in my eye.'
For some reason, I felt it was better to hide it.
(Omitted)
Strangely enough, it seems Kumi hasn't noticed Machiko's missing little finger.
(Omitted)
Is it only I who feels that the little finger is gone?
From there, Machiko desperately pretended that everything was as usual.
This is a work that seems to have 'loss' as its theme.
Is the body being lost?
Or is it just that the senses are being lost?
Or perhaps what is being lost is the heart, empathy for others, the future, or the past—.
I felt that it could be a completely different work depending on how one interprets it, and that the real thrill of this work might be savoring the act of interpretation itself.
Hanakopter-san, who started on note only half a month ago.
They seem to be a noter who depicts a unique world.
I felt that it is a world where one can experience interesting chemical changes through interaction.
I look forward to your future works!
Next is an introduction to a poem.
Noi Man-san's, '[Poem and Essay] "The Hand is an Expresser of the Heart"'.
I said I would introduce the poem... but I hesitated to extract only parts of it, so I will quote from the essay in the second half.
'The hand evolved to strike people'
It seems there is such a theory.
(Omitted)
Human history is also a history of war.
Stealing others' interests to raise one's own status.
How many battles have there been for that purpose.
That is nothing but something done by human hands.
'Hands' have been weapons not only when wielded directly, but also indirectly.
It feels sad, but that is a historical fact.
Hands evolved to strike. That was the first time I had heard that theory.
It is a shocking statement, but as I read Noi-san's article, my feelings gradually calm down.
Even knives and cars can be a benefit to people or a deadly weapon depending on how they are used.
If so, how will we use the 'hands' we have been given?
The article concludes like this.
Perhaps the hand evolved as a weapon to hurt others. However, even if it was born as a weapon, a weapon ceases to be a weapon depending on how it is used.
How we use it is up to us from now on.
Because the hand is an expresser of the heart.
We can choose what to express with our hands.
With 35,000 choices a day, we can create the value of our 'hands'.
Toward the brighter side. Toward the lighter side.
If we could walk hand in hand with everyone toward such a world—I would be truly happy.
I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who supported this project.
I plan to continue introducing the articles you have submitted one by one, while following a single theme each time as much as possible.
It will take some time to introduce all the articles, but I would be very grateful if you could wait patiently and look forward to them.
Also, if there is anyone who intended to participate in the project but whose article has not been included in the magazine, please take the trouble to let Crystal-ru know. You can do so via the comment section of any article.
This is the magazine that contains your "#Hand" articles. ↓↓↓
The first article I wrote about the "Hand God" is here. ↓↓↓
The recruitment article for "#Hand" is here. ↓↓↓
The series of introduction articles for "Letters to the Hand God" is here. ↓↓↓