(If you’ve never heard of the Japanese word gaman, here’s a thorough explanation. )
When I started this newsletter, I had two modest goals. The first one was to send it out every Monday. Oops, I’ve already messed up on that one. However, I’m not a business, I’m a writer. I have tried to be a business in the past, and it’s not something I can sustain for a long period of time. I’m much more inclined to stick with projects if I’m me, not an LLC. In other words, gaman (which means perseverance, endurance) for me has to include a personal, worthwhile investment, not the rote execution of tasks.
But in classic Japanese gaman fashion, I mostly end up doing all the box-checking “best practices” and executing them really well even when I don’t want to. So it feels like a shame when I decide that the gaman thing isn’t working well for my creativity or my interest, because I keep thinking of the sunk cost. But without creativity and interest, I’m not going to write anything you’d want to read.
To that end, I’m trying to be relatively consistent with these essays, but I’m also putting gaman second and creativity first. In other words, today’s Wednesday so I’m late, but here I am—because I want to be, not because my mom keeps telling me that I have no gaman.
(My kids all say I have an insane amount of gaman. I guess it depends on who’s judging? My mom disagrees. I’d like to think my kids know me better, but sometimes I suspect that my mom knows more about the person that I’ve tried and failed to become in my life, and that’s a very scary thought.)
The second Substack goal was to write twelve essays and then step back and evaluate. So I actually ended up stepping back to evaluate before I even reached twelve. But it’s been fruitful. For one thing, Substack introduced Notes, and I’ve enjoyed scrolling through to see what my favorite writers are up to. So much better than Twitter! If you haven’t given it a look, please do. But it does cut into one’s writing time, for sure.
For another, I’ve learned so much from the other writers in this space, it felt good to hit pause. And what I’ve seen is that a good newsletter commits to a vision. It’s tempting to ramble without purpose, because then I can guarantee you a newsletter every Monday. But this newsletter isn’t about checking a weekly box; it’s about thinking through issues that I think are tied closely to modern Japan, the history of the American presence abroad, racism in both places, and the special perspective that I think people like me have, not to mention my belief that most of us have some kind of liminal space that we either avoid or feel uncomfortable in. I think this is more interesting and more important than box-checking.
So it’s early (this is only newsletter number eight), but after a lot of mid-project thought, I’m re-committing myself to my specific vision: writing about Japan, Japanese language, and the experience of Japanese and mixed Japanese abroad, the history of Japan’s relationship with other countries, plus the question of where people like me fit in to Asian America, with a healthy dose of media commentary, since media is how people outside of Japan interact with Japan.
In addition, I’m a novelist who hasn’t written about Japan despite all the hours I spend on thinking about Japan, studying Japanese, and consuming Japanese books, music, and other media. This is why this newsletter is on Substack and not attached to my fiction writing. I’ve been writing regular newsletters to my fiction readers since 2017, but my readers are only interested in my novels, not my Japanese journey, which is completely fine. However, I believe that you can find writers in their writing, so I can’t afford to neglect my own journey. The real me is going to show up in my fiction no matter what, and I’ll write better books if I can untangle myself. This newsletter is about the journey. If you aren’t interested in Japan, but you are a writer who is simultaneously untangling some kind of personal and probably liminal space, welcome to the party.
The gaman thing can potentially take a person to a bad place. In my case, the word is filled with judgment, because in Japan, gaman is usually a virtue. And I do respect the gaman that it takes to do anything creatively worthwhile. But how to know when it’s enough, when it’s too much, whether you should be gaman-ing at all?
So while I know I have to put in some gaman time in order to finish my next book, I have to err on the side of creative joy. It just makes for better storytelling. This means it takes a little longer, but it’ll be that much better. And similarly, know that while there is a bit of gaman needed to write this newsletter, it’s honestly not as much gaman as it would be if I were following all those internet newsletter “best practices.” I’m really happy to be here on Substack; it feels like a community. This kind of gaman feels more like an exhilarating workout than a slog.
Thanks for reading! I have another essay coming out in a couple of days, to make up for the (slight) lack of gaman over the past few weeks!