Emotions, sometimes they pop
I am going to write my thoughts on Noyagi-san's essay, "When Popcorn Pops."
(If you haven't read it yet, you can do so here.)
I first learned about Noyagi-san at the end of June. It was triggered by an incredible article that surely everyone involved in the Creative Awards must have read.
300 works............300 works!?
I thought it was insane. When I opened it, I realized this was the same person who had written review articles for past Creative Awards as well. 100 works in 2024, 200 works in 2025, and following that trend, 300 works this year. It's just too crazy. It's also crazy that out of all the adjectives available, "crazy" (yabai) is the one that fits best.
"I see, so they are in charge of building excitement."
That was my first impression of Noyagi-san. Since the Creative Awards are sometimes called a "festival," they are the person who takes on the role of maximizing the excitement of that festival. In reality, writers are happy to receive feedback, and considering the fact that they posted an article capable of delighting 300 authors, the level of their contribution to building that excitement goes without saying.
What an incredible person. That's what I thought. But five days later, after reading Noyagi-san's essay "When Popcorn Pops" that appeared on my X feed, I felt a different kind of "incredible" regarding Noyagi-san.
This essay is structured by alternating between two timelines. One is the timeline of "until I go to the place I saved on Google Maps," and the other is the timeline of "until I harvest the popcorn (and what happens after)." In the beginning, the story progresses without the connection between the descriptions in each being clear. The process of growing popcorn might seem like something out of the blue, but when the two timelines intersect toward the end, it becomes clear that it was an essential description.
When writing a review of this essay, the first thing to touch upon should be the high level of its structural composition.
Two stories that seem unrelated at first glance are written in parallel, alternating within a single essay. It proceeds in such a way that the two eventually intersect.
I can understand it in my head. But when I try to write it myself, I realize it is by no means easy. Simply put, there are many points to take care of. At what timing should I switch to the other timeline? In which paragraph, and how much should I describe? How should I express the movement of emotions? How do I keep the reader from dropping off? Where do they merge, and how do I wrap it up?
This essay, "When Popcorn Pops," feels like a work where all of these elements maintain an optimal balance. It is a meticulously crafted piece of writing, yet it lacks that "too polished" feeling that often appears when something is over-engineered. Including that balance, I felt the way the text was put together was simply skillful.
I am the type who just keeps writing from the beginning, so personally, I am dying to have this kind of meticulousness and sense of balance. Noyagi-san, please give it to me.
Another thing I must mention regarding the quality of Noyagi-san's writing is the softness of their prose. In this essay as well, that gentle choice of words stands out clearly.
The origin of popcorn is corn. It is called "explosive variety," and the name itself sounds quite fun. What is that? Explosive.
"Hey, look. I'm walking at 300 kilometers per hour right now."
On the way back from the restroom, my eldest son mutters on the deck.
Indeed.
It's so fast that it only looks slow.
I thought we would naturally meet again someday. I thought we would laugh about silly things again, eat meals together, go out to play, ask each other how things have been lately, and that sort of feeling would just continue on forever.
Just as handwriting is said to reflect a person's character, I believe the same is true for one's writing style. The theory that people who write soft prose likely have soft personalities is one I think is probably correct.
Of course, that doesn't mean soft is good and sharp is bad. But, as you can tell from reading Noyagi-san's other pieces, there is a genuine sense of kindness in that softness. Being kind is a wonderful thing. I truly believe that.
One element that creates this softness is the use of "closing" and "opening." Closing refers to writing in kanji, while opening refers to writing in hiragana.
Noyagi-san's writing has an exquisite balance of "opening." That is why it leaves such a soft impression.
This "closing and opening" isn't simply a matter of the more you open or close, the better. It is important to decide on a balance that matches the atmosphere you want to convey in that piece. Naturally, there is a spectrum—"leaning more toward opening" or "leaning more toward closing"—and adjusting that balance is quite a delicate task.
Noyagi-san's approach is, how should I put it, "not forced." The same goes for the structure mentioned earlier; I really think they are someone who is skilled at finding that balance.
Memories I had kept bottled up pop all at once.
Now, there is no stopping them.
The location saved on Google Maps is the temple where U-chan rests. Contrary to the wish to believe it was a lie, the gravestone is found, and memories of U-chan come rushing back to the author.
I can only say it is masterful to have chosen the expression "(memories) pop" here. It feels like emotions are popping and welling up like popcorn. I don't think it was just a play on words to link it to "(popcorn) popping"; I believe they really were popping, and the author wanted to describe that honestly.
Yes, exactly. Emotions, sometimes they pop. Admiring that choice of words, I found myself nodding along repeatedly.
Finally.
I suspect this essay is a very important and meaningful piece of writing for the author. If that is the case, I considered that viewing this essay as a "creative work" or focusing on the techniques of writing might perhaps be unwelcome to the author.
That is why I struggled with how to approach writing this feedback. I thought about focusing on the content and writing a response that empathized with the emotions behind it.
However, when I reread this piece many times to write my thoughts, the truth is that the "extraordinariness" of the writing itself stood out. As a fellow writer, I felt it would be disrespectful to ignore the quality of this piece and my own feelings of how good it is, so I decided to write it this way. I apologize if there was any disrespect. But these are my true feelings.
That is all!
▼Works submitted to the 2026 Creative Awards by the author of this review▼