Things that pass by and fade, but might be remembered someday / Post-event notes for Comitia 154 & Mushoku Tomeisai 3

Thank you for your hard work at Comitia 154.
To everyone who visited my booth, thank you so much!
I am filled with joy that so many people purchased my work.

Since this was my first time participating as an individual circle, I was underprepared and have many points to reflect on (the biggest being that I lost my circle ticket on the morning of the event. Is it true that this will negatively affect my lottery chances for future events...?), but I am quite satisfied with the work I created.

This time, I drew an 8-page short manga titled "Ghosts and Grave Robbers" and had it made into a booklet at a printing shop.
The printing is beautiful, there's no moiré, and the impression of the cover at a glance is exactly what I was aiming for. It's the best. Thank you, Ryokuyosha. I am truly sorry for the last-minute submission.
It seems many visitors to the booth were interested in the cover, and some even complimented me, saying, "It's a beautiful book." Happy!

Perhaps the anti-capitalist, super-deficit pricing of 100 yen per copy worked in my favor, as I initially expected that "selling 10 copies would be a success," but I ended up selling several times that amount. I'm a bit surprised. Isn't this a pretty good result for a first-time Comitia participant...?
However, there is also the idea that selling doujinshi too cheaply isn't great, so I think I'll set a more realistic price that could aim for a profit from next time onwards. I want to sell enough to be able to afford beef tongue at the after-party.

The thing that made me happiest was when someone who bought the book asked me, "Do you plan on making more horror-like works like this in the future?"
A few years ago, when I brought my manga to a publisher, an editor told me, "Your work is in bad taste" (the editor was being as considerate as possible, so I don't hold any grudges at all; in fact, I'm grateful), and ever since then, I've been troubled by the feeling that my "style" isn't needed by anyone—of course, it's fine to draw even if no one needs your work, but I felt like I had been branded as something with no commercial value, so I drew manga under the assumption that it was impossible for my "style" to be sought after by anyone. So, feeling that there are people who look forward to more of this style gives me a fresh sense of motivation.

The people who visited the booth were all unique, and I found it both happy and interesting to see that these are the kinds of people who find my work, so I had a fun time even just by manning the booth. Once again, thank you all so much.
Regarding the booth setup, it was a huge help that a friend who has a lot of experience participating in events like Comitia and ZINE flea markets helped me out this time. Thank you so much, friend.
I was also personally excited that the person in the neighboring booth was a student of the "Hirameki Manga Classroom." I reacted a bit too eagerly, saying, "I've seen the critique sessions on the Genron YouTube channel!!!" so I hope I didn't weird them out.

Overall it was fun, but there are definitely some points to reflect on regarding the content of the manga.
Above all, I think the 8-page length is definitely lacking (in fact, most of the customers who came to the booth read the whole thing through the sample and finished without buying it), so I'm thinking I want at least 16, preferably 30 pages for the next work, but where will I find the time to draw that? I wonder...?

It happened to coincide with Comitia, but I also participated in an event called "Mushoku Tomeisai" (Colorless Transparent Festival), where you submit music anonymously.

About 4,500 songs are released with the composers hidden, allowing listeners to hear the music with information and biases stripped away to the extreme—an interesting project that is rare to find.
To enjoy the music purely, there is a rule for the MV to be "white background with lyrics only." It might make the organizers angry to say this, but it's a concept like Ichiran (ramen shop).

I submitted a song titled "Confession." It's a very simple guitar rock song.
Just before producing this, I bought a YAMAHA Revstar guitar, and since it makes the sounds I really like, I made the song devoid of any elaborate decorations to make the sound of this guitar stand out. It's simple enough for a junior high or high school 3-piece band to play.
I was incredibly happy that the listeners really noticed my dedication to the "goodness of the guitar sound." I mean, I think this is the goodness of Mushoku Tomeisai. They really listen by focusing on the sound. It's like a flavor-concentration booth.

As the title "Confession" suggests, the lyrics are also themed around "honestly revealing things," but when the words appear on the white background, I intentionally used some words that might be startling. Like "streetwalker" or "the monster I keep in my head."
I believe that being honest can sometimes be an expression of violence, so I hope it's a song that conveys that.

I plan to arrange "Confession" a bit more, make a simple MV, and upload it to YouTube within the year. I'd be happy if you listened to it again!

Being able to participate in two events, Comitia and Mushoku Tomeisai, at the same time was a very good experience for me.

At Comitia, I was able to realize that as long as I firmly create things that I think are good, many people who don't know my name or face will take an interest in my work.
At Mushoku Tomeisai, I was able to confirm that my work is being directly evaluated as "good music" in the form of view counts, likes, and comments.

Passersby who don't know me feel something in what I've created, stop, pick it up, and take something away from it.
Creation as the only means by which I can believe in the meaning of my existence here. That primal joy.

For the past few months, I've been working from home while being chased by the production for Comitia and Mushoku Tomeisai, suffering in my room in constant solitude, but I think what I did had that much value.

My life is filled with the premonition that it will end in solitude in about ten years (I'm not young, and my mind and body are in tatters), but if passersby can just tuck away what I've left behind in a corner of their bookshelves or their cerebral cortexes, that's enough for me.
If someday they remember it and wonder, 'Whose was this?'
That is my grave, my ashes, and my ghost.