Yukimi Ogawa's Blog

Author website

Okay, so, here it is:
https://bow-gas-e6f.notion.site/Yukim...

You may wonder, why now? Well, I tried a few times before, but I felt comfortable with none of the tools/platforms I could find, and last time I almost made up my mind I gave up going freelance some time ago and my passion died, and...well. I'm sorry, I'm just a messy, lazy person.

It's not much. But at least here I can keep the list of my published stories updated.

Thank you

2023 has been a year where I have too many people to thank, and I can't imagine my words conveying the real gratitude I actually am feeling, no matter how hard I try.
Nevertheless I need to try.
Thank you for putting your work into the collection Like Smoke, Like Light.
Thank you for reading any of my work.
Thank you for spreading word, having interest, stopping just one fraction of tiny moment to look at my work. It all means a lot, a lot more than you'd think.
I wish you all a very happy New Year.

EDITED: Eligibility?

Okay, I don't really understand eligibility. Mostly because I don't have a lot to say most of the time. But this year? I had a BOOK published! I guess I should do this...right?

So my 2023:
Short story collection:
Like Smoke, Like Light
Mythic Delirium Books

Novelette:
"The Tree, and the Center of the World"
Published in Like Smoke, Like Light

Short stories:
"The Portrait of a Surviver, Observed from the Water"
Clarkesworld, February 2023

"Amber Too Red, Like Ember"
Published in Multiverses: An anthology of alternate realities, Titan Books

Hope you all had a good year. I think I did. And I wish everyone who deserves it a very happy new year.

p.s.
Forgot to include one of the short stories! Turns out this has been a productive year for me.

Count down with me--Day 0

It's 20th June here, but still 19th elsewhere. I'd like to use these in-between hours to say some thank-yous.
The book does not include an Acknowledgement section. I was afraid that, no matter how hard I tried, I would miss out some very important thank-yous. I am that kind of person. I opted to not exclude anyone by not including anyone.
There are so many names to be named. Those who offered me very helpful feedback, those who cheered me on over the years. Family members, friends, coworkers who helped without even knowing. Readers who read my stuff, liking it, disliking it. I am standing here because of your kindness. The world became a much better place since I had the honor of interacting with you in any way.


Here, I'm going to actually name a few people, who were actually involved in the production of the book at Mythic Delirium.
Anita, thank you for going through all of my weird stories, I really wish I could send you our pickles. Francesca, for your beautiful introduction; knowing you would understand, would try to understand, let me through those times I couldn't believe in myself. Sydney, I'm sure my manuscripts were not all easy to go over, thank you for putting up with the ever-changing spellings and all. Paula, the cover/interior art is gorgeous, I love love love the color of the woman's dress on the cover, among everything else.
And Mike, thank you for taking chances with this non-speaking plump heave of limbs. There are too many things I cannot do, and you've been super kind and patient.

And you, you who are reading this! Thank you for your interest in this book. I'm proud of it, and if you do decide to give it a try, I hope you enjoy reading it.

Get your copy of Like Smoke, Like Light here!

Count down with me--Day 1

"Like Smoke, Like Light" can be read at Strange Horizons.
http://strangehorizons.com/fiction/li...
This is another story that involves farmhouse annex. An article I read some time ago about a decorated, sealed tomb, and an image of a room full of lamps and lanterns that just popped into my head, made up the first spark of this story.

I wrote some words for this piece. But they contain a mild SPOILER. Do proceed with caution if you have not yet read the story.


**********
The ceiling feels somehow too close, trying to crush me dead, and the inky darkness has its hands over my mouth, though not touching—letting them just hover there, as if warning me, I can drown you out any moment. I feel my own hands and feet go cold.
I'm too old, too experienced, to fear darkness.
I think, ever since I faced that void, that darkness filled with hatred, something changed in me completely. No, I'm not exactly afraid of the dark. But ever since, there is something in my darkness, something lurking. If that thing is waiting to pounce on me, if it wants to embrace me lovingly, I have no idea. But it's there.
Right now, me not wanting to be seen sleeping wins me not wanting to sleep in the dark. Though barely.
Am I going to never sleep soundly at night?
Something moves at the corner of my eye, but I know instantly that it's not supernatural; I know the moon is bright tonight, and it's just a tree swinging outside, its shadow moving on the screen.
I don't want to light my special lantern. I don't want to disturb my friend's sleep. She deserves rest. But surely, it won't hurt to place the lantern near me, in my sight? The sight of it might give me some sliver of comfort.
I unwrap the bundle and place the lantern near the window. And open the screen.
And lie back down.
The trees outside the window are swinging, and under usual circumstances, to an ordinary person, the gentle movement might be soothing, sleep-inducing, even. But to me—there is a moment of complete silence, and then, I immediately realize the mistake I just made. The moonlight, the trees' shadows, come through the lantern and stretch softly towards the other side of the room. My ghost friend inside the lantern doesn't emerge, not the usual way. She is just a flicker, or two, maybe three, among the shadows of the dancing trees. But I feel her.
"I'm sorry." I sit up as soon as I'm sure my friend has been woken up. "I'll wrap you up nice now. I'm sorry, I had no intention of disturbing you..."
Then my ghost fried says, "No!" though her voice is a whisper in the sighing branches. "If you don't mind..."
I involuntarily frown. "Anything wrong?"
Hesitation seeps over the moonlight. "Don't laugh at me," after a moment she says.
I wait.
"I...don't want to be alone in here." A sniff. "At night."
I consider this a moment. "Are you saying, you are, are, afraid of the dark?"
The moonlight seems to spatter for a second, though that must be just my imagination. I hear her breath, but she doesn't continue.
I—I burst out laughing.
"I told you not to laugh!"
"I'm sorry, I truly am," I chuckle on some more. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at me." I sigh and swallow. "I feel the same! I don't want to be alone in the dark. But I don't like being seen while I sleep, because of what my ex-husband did to me. Oh," I heave another sigh, "I must sound really stupid."
Something flatters over the wall; a bird, insect, it's too blurry to tell. "You don't," she says at length. "You don't."
My ghost friend is still too blurry, and it's a bit hard to make her out. "I don't feel exposed now. Perhaps, we could rest like this. Keeping each other company."
"We could," she says. "We should."
I lie back down. The shadows of the lantern, the moonlight and shadows coming through the lantern, cover a part of my head, as if they are stroking me to sleep. "Good night," I say.
"Good night," she replies, but the voice is already distant, as if it's coming from the other side of dream.

Count down with me--Day 2

There is no paticular reason for not having said this much, but "Perfect" is a creation myth for the colorful island. I'm sure I came up with that idea as I went along with the story, that I didn't set out to write it as the colorful island story.
Beauty has always confused me. Even before I put on so much weight, I knew people didn't like the way I looked, one of the reasons being my exotropia. Me writing a story about beauty, and the story turning into something this weird, says a lot about this, I guess?

And maybe that's why I love making shimmery things.


Pre-order Like Smoke, Like Light here!

Count down with me--Day 3

"Welcome to the Haunted House" s mostly about tsukumogami, tools that have acquired a spirit over time. The protagonist Ichi is a ichimatsu doll. This story came from a painting I once saw of yokai marching through the night, by an unknown creator.
I think I'm still sort of attached to the idea of promises that are not kept. As a child I really didn't understand why grownups would make promises that, in retrospect, they had no intention of keeping in the first place.


Pre-order Like Smoke, Like Light here!

Count down with me--Day 4

I talked a bit about "The Colorless Thief" in the Big Idea post here. This is the first colorful island story I ever wrote.
I still wonder how the people on this island name their children. One of the characters here, Dai, was actually named something like Peach or Pomegranate, just making people around him call him Dai because he doesn't think his personality goes with these colors. Most people of the island don't do this. The colorful are named after their color, naturally, but how the colorless are named...that's still a mystery to me.

The protagonist, Hai, is a labradorite person. Her name indicates "grey," her colorlessness despite her being colorful, but also the Japanese name for labradorite includes the word "hai." (This "hai" is not pronounced hai, though.)
I made this weird thing for her.


Pre-order Like Smoke, Like Light here!

Count down with me--Day 5

I think I just wanted to write something scary, when I started "The Flying Head at the Edge of Night," but did it become a scary story? I don't know.
There are, roughly categorized, two types of this yokai, rokurokubi: one with a neck that stretches, and one with a head that flies away.

I made this neck thing for Head and Body.


Pre-order Like Smoke, Like Light here!

Count down with me--Day 6

I've been to a few dyeing workshops, one of which involved actually getting my hands into the dye pot. The warmth felt weird. The smell...you could get used to it, maybe, though you wouldn't want to. In the story "In Her Head, in Her Eyes," the protagonist Hase is thrown into one of these pots, and I feel really sorry for her, though she...doesn't...quite...
Anyway. I made this! With bonus sea pottery (as in sea glass but not glass.)




Pre-order Like Smoke, Like Light here!