Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella 3-1

akimi

Oct. 24, 2025

Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella 3-1

Third Exchange　part 1

Dear Takeshi,

Late-summer greetings.

Summer vacation was such a joy, wasn’t it? I thought five days and four nights would be plenty, but they passed in the blink of an eye.

Your mother made all my favorite dishes, my old friends gathered to see me, I got to eat the bean daifuku from Usagiya, and most of all—I got to see you.

Home really is a special place.

Now that September has begun, work has suddenly gotten busy. Around here, it’s rice harvesting season.

Since the timing varies by variety, you can always spot a field somewhere in the middle of harvest.

The other day, I attended a harvest festival in a nearby town for work. It’s apparently a well-known event, so perhaps you’ve heard of it. It was my first time, and I was quite surprised.

At the top of a long bamboo scaffold—like a ladder over five meters tall—many small decorative balls were hanging. Men in loincloths took turns climbing the shaky structure, tearing off the decorations and tossing them down.

Not just ornaments, but bags of sweets too, which delighted the children who rushed to gather them.

There’s a legend that when the god of harvest once rested in this region, a strong local deity helped him out. The festival is said to be inspired by that tale.

This area is especially famous for its rice, so the faith in a bountiful harvest runs deep.

I watched from a distance so as not to get in the way. The ladder swayed dangerously with each climber, and I couldn’t help but feel a chill just watching.

I nearly screamed several times and had to cover my mouth with both hands.

What struck me most was a young woman—likely the wife—standing anxiously behind a tense young man with a stiff expression.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and he seemed even more nervous, sweating profusely.

Then, a large man nearby chuckled and said:

“It’s a blessing to be worried over. Eventually, your wife won’t even bother watching. That’s when you’ve truly made it.”

But when it was that man’s turn to climb, the woman who had been stirring the pot of pork miso soup quietly stepped out of the tent, ladle still in hand.

She watched him with concern, and before he even returned to the ground, she was back at the pot as if nothing had happened.

I wonder—did he not realize she was worried? Or was he just pretending not to notice out of embarrassment?

The results of the Newcomer’s Prize will be announced soon, won’t they? I’m looking forward to it.

Please take care of yourself amidst your busy days.

Respectfully yours,

Kyoko
September 23, Showa 50 (1975)

en 2

Correct

Corrections

JeikNation

Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella 3-1

Third Exchange　part 1

Dear Takeshi,

Late-summer greetings.

Summer vacation was such a joy, wasn’t it?

I thought five days and four nights would be plenty, but they passed in the blink of an eye.

Your mother made all my favorite dishes, my old friends gathered to see me, I got to eat the bean daifuku from Usagiya, and most of all—I got to see you.

Home really is a special place.

Now that September has begun, work has suddenly gotten busy.

Around here, it’s rice harvesting season.

Since the timing varies by variety, you can always spot a field somewhere in the middle of harvest.

I'm a little confused about this sentence. Grammatically it makes sense. When you say you can always spot a field somewhere in the middle of harvest. I think you are saying that when you look out among a bunch of rice paddies, you can easily see which one is harvesting right at that moment because the fields next to it have yet to be harvest.

But the "somewhere" is throwing me off. Maybe just get rid of it.

Since the timing varies by variety, you can always spot a field in the middle of harvesting.
Spot a field in the middle of its harvest.
Always spot a field that's in the middle of its harvest.
Always spot a field that's in the middle of harvesting.

The other day, I attended a harvest festival in a nearby town for work.

It’s apparently a well-known event, so perhaps you’ve heard of it.

It was my first time, and I was quite surprised.

At the top of a long bamboo scaffold—like a ladder over five meters tall—many small decorative balls were hanging.

Men in loincloths took turns climbing the shaky structure, tearing off the decorations and tossing them down.

Not just ornaments, but bags of sweets too, which delighted the children who rushed to gather them.

There’s a legend that when the god of harvest once rested in this region, a strong local deity helped him out.

The festival is said to be inspired by that tale.

This area is especially famous for its rice, so ~~the~~having faith in a bountiful harvest runs deep.

I watched from a distance so as not to get in the way.

The ladder swayed dangerously with each climber, and I couldn’t help but feel a chill just watching.

I nearly screamed several times and had to cover my mouth with both hands.

What struck me most was a young woman—likely the wife—standing anxiously behind a tense young man with a stiff expression.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and he seemed even more nervous, sweating profusely.

Just a suggestion, you depict the man as being more nervous than the wife. But perhaps if the wife was more nervous than the husband, it would emphasize the point of having a wife that is worried for you is a blessing right now. Although, I think the man should be nervous too, I think the wife should be more nervous to show how much she cares.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, on the verge of a meltdown, and he was sweating profusely as well.

Maybe delete the "he seemed more nervous." and add another sentence for the woman, then still show that the man is nervous, but more as an afterthought.

Then, a large man nearby chuckled and said:

“It’s a blessing to be worried over.

I understand this sentence but it is a little confusing, just the wording and phrasing is a bit awkward.

It is a blessing to have someone worry over you.
Being someone's concern is a blessing
You are blessed to have someone worried about you

Eventually, your wife won’t even bother watching.

That’s when you’ve truly made it.”

Is he bragging about this? When you have "truly made it." As in peaked at life? What is he implying here? That's when you have truly made it because your wife loves you so much she doesn't care? You have truly made it as a man, that you are so manly your wife doesn't care? You have truly made it because your wife doesn't love you anymore and doesn't care? I'm just a little confused as to why he thinks his wife not caring about him equals him "making it" as in that is the best possible thing that could happen in life.

But when it was that man’s turn to climb, the woman who had been stirring the pot of pork miso soup quietly stepped out of the tent, ladle still in hand.

She watched him with concern, and before he even returned to the ground, she was back at the pot as if nothing had happened.

I wonder—did he not realize she was worried?

Or was he just pretending not to notice out of embarrassment?

The results of the Newcomer’s Prize will be announced soon, won’t they?

Is this the same as the rookie's contest? May be good to keep the name of the contest consistent with the previous letter so we don't get confused if Takeshi is entering multiple contests for his manga.

I’m looking forward to it.

Please take care of yourself amidst your busy days.

Respectfully yours,

Kyoko

September 23, Showa 50 (1975)

akimi

Oct. 31, 2025

Hello, JeikNation. Thank you so much.

"Tears welled up in her eyes despite her best efforts to stay composed, and that only deepened the seriousness of the moment. He grew even more nervous, sweating visibly."

"Being someone's concern is a blessing."

"A man’s made it when his wife stops worrying—either because he’s finally reliable, or she’s just given up."

Thank you as always. I’ve revised it like this based on your advice—what do you think? I’d be happy if you could help me polish the next part as well.

saintiago

Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella

Dear Takeshi,

Late-summer greetings.

This doesn't feel natural. I would either omit it, or you could say something like "I can't believe it's already August" to provide context.

Summer vacation was such a joy, wasn’t it?

I thought five days and four nights would be plenty, but they passed in the blink of an eye.

Your mother made all my favorite dishes, my old friends gathered to see me, I got to eat the bean daifuku from Usagiya, and most of all—I got to see you.

Home really is a special place.

Now that September has begun, work has suddenly gotten busy.

Around here, it’s rice harvesting season.

Since the timing varies by variety, you can always spot a field somewhere in the middle of harvest.

The other day, I attended a harvest festival in a nearby town for work.

It’s apparently a well-known event, so perhaps you’ve heard of it.

It was my first time, and I was quite surprised.

At the top of a long bamboo scaffold—like a ladder over five meters tall—many small decorative balls were hanging.

Men in loincloths took turns climbing the shaky structure, tearing off the decorations and tossing them down.

Not just ornaments, but bags of sweets too, which delighted the children who rushed to gather them.

There’s a legend that when the god of harvest once rested in this region, a strong local deity helped him out.

The festival is said to be inspired by that tale.

This area is especially famous for its rice, so the ~~faith in~~hope for a bountiful harvest runs deep.

I watched from a distance so as not to get in the way.

The ladder swayed dangerously with each climber, and I couldn’t help but feel a chill just watching.

I nearly screamed several times and had to cover my mouth with both hands.

What struck me most was a young woman—likely the wife—standing anxiously behind a tense young man with a stiff expression.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, and he seemed even more nervous, sweating profusely.

Then, a large man nearby chuckled and said:

“It’s a blessing to be worried over.

Eventually, your wife won’t even bother watching.

That’s when you’ve truly made it.”

But when it was that man’s turn to climb, the woman who had been stirring the pot of pork miso soup quietly stepped out of the tent, ladle still in hand.

She watched him with concern, and before he even returned to the ground, she was back at the pot as if nothing had happened.

I wonder—did he not realize she was worried?

Or was he just pretending not to notice out of embarrassment?

Embarrassment doesn't feel like the right word here but I'm having trouble thinking of an alternative. There's probably an elegant Japanese expression for this 🙂 Maybe "out of the mutual understanding developed through their mature relationship."なんとか

The results of the Newcomer’s Prize will be announced soon, won’t they?

I’m looking forward to it.

Please take care of yourself amidst your busy days.

Respectfully yours,

Kyoko

akimi

Oct. 27, 2025

Thank you for your advice! This gave me great insight. Regarding the part you pointed out, I've decided to revise it like this.
"Or was he just acting oblivious because he felt self-conscious?"😝

saintiago

Oct. 29, 2025

That sounds good!

Correspondence: A Japanese Epistolary Novella