The experience of traveling in Japan is never really just about visiting temples or eating sushi, even if that’s all you set out to do. And especially not if you let your guard down just a little bit.
I’ve always felt a sort of current flowing through me as I explored Japan, which makes sense when you consider how long (and, frankly, turbulent) the country’s history has been. And I’m not speaking necessarily about ghosts or spirits—I’m an atheist—but those might be the best two words to describe the feelings I sometimes get.
Then again, I’d say it’s a fool’s errand to try and condense a decade of contemplation into a few dozen syllables. As a result, I’ve created this page to be a home for my very favorite Japan travel writing from over the years.
Being in Japan Changes the Way I Think—and Write
If you’ve ever read a Japan travel essay I’ve written, you’ll notice that I try to make it transcend the worst rhetorical trap: This happened to me; therefore, it is important. This is but one of many conscious choices I make when creating the primary chronicle of a given trip to Japan. Many of the changes to how I write when I’m in Japan, however, are completely out of my control.
Which makes sense: I think differently when I’m in Japan. While I would never compare myself to Murakami, I do feel like it’s impossible to see Japan as you’re exploring it without at least a faint lens of magical realism. This can become a chicken-and-egg debate, of course—is this an intrinsic quality of Japan that informed and inspired Murakami’s writing, or one he elucidated for the average person?—but it’s a salient thing to think about, regardless.
My Most Memorable Essays About Japan
“Carp and Dragon in the Viper Forest,” 2016
I read “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” on my way to and during this trip (which was my first paid journey to Japan), and made a conscious effort to emulate Murakami in the essay I wrote in its wake. Looking back, I don’t necessarily think it’s the very best thing I’ve written after having traveled in Japan, though it certainly set me on the path I’m on now more than any other piece of writing—and any other trip.
“The Dark Prince of Beppu,” 2019
Although I spun off this website in mid-2018, it wasn’t until late 2019 than I got into a Japan travelogue groove I could feel proud of. Which was ironic: My trip to Kyushu that autumn coincided with what is, to this day, the most painful break-up I’ve been through. What’s also ironic is that if I had seen the relationship for what is was, I might never have been able to write like this.
“Okayama and Aging,” 2021
Trauma, for me and for almost every other writer, is often what leads to the most memorable work. So it makes sense that after squeaking into Japan literally hours after it slammed its border shut (for the second time) in the wake of 2019, I felt inspired to write was is still one of my favorite meditations on mortality, and the way that being a timeless place like Japan puts it into context, especially on an otherwise superfluous mid-30s birthday.
“The Snow Country Singularity,” 2023
Japan, to be sure, was not “back to normal,” even by early 2023 when the pandemic was a distant memory for most of the west. Still, the Japan essay I wrote during my winter trip to Hokkaido that February was the first time that my fear about Japan’s raising the drawbridge again wasn’t my primary motivator in having put pen to paper—or fingers to screen/keys, as it were.
“Karma, Kismet and Coincidence,” 2024
If 2023 was the year my travels in Japan started seeming normal again, then 2024 was the year I finally, truly got off the beaten path. Which is not to say I deliberately eschewed mainstream destinations, or came only at off-peak times, but that I truly began carving my own trail through the country. An essay I wrote just after the peak of sakura season as I traveled from the Japanese Alps to obscure islands off Nagasaki best illustrates this mood.
How I Approach Writing While in Japan
If you ever happen to see me when you’re traveling in Japan—and many people do—you might notice me on my phone quite a bit. This is not because I’m posting on social media (which I mostly eschew) or navigating (I try to work that out before I leave my hotel room), but because I’m taking notes. Sometimes this is to record a specific sight or sound, or an emotion; in other cases, an entire paragraph or passage will come to me.
By the end of the trip, I usually have a few thousand words (digitally) jotted down, but almost never a coherent essay. In some cases, I’m able to stitch my notes together into something compelling; in other cases, I harvest a few words here or a sentence there, and come up with something new. Whatever the case, I do try and get a working draft finished before I leave Japan, lest the spirit of the trip escape me entirely before I’ve captured it.
The Bottom Line
I hope you’ve enjoyed my Japan travel writing, even if content of the more utilitarian sort was what initially led you to this website. Although I’d love to be able, one day, to write a memoir or novel about the decade-plus I’ve spent immersing myself in Japan, I feel grateful to have created a platform that allows me to sustain myself while I flex this creative muscle, even if the compensation pathway is indirect. Are you an agent or a publisher? Don’t be shy about reaching out. I would absolutely love to stitch some of my best essays into something more long form, or to create something new and unique all together.
