Writing Wind Hill was a twelve-year struggle and adventure. The
memoir is an attempt to share my experience with non-writers who
may wish to someday write a story. The memoir also comes in
Colorful and Colorless Versions. I am currently working on the final
sections and collaborating with an American writer, James Michel.
We hope to complete it in the near future.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The next morning, as I sat in my usual chair, another story
started to fall. The story took place somewhere in Hokkaido. But
later that day, as the sun was setting, I was surprised to realize that
everyone in the story was speaking in English and I had traveled to
The next morning, as I woke up in my bed, and even before I
had a chance to look at my clock, the story continued. I went down to
the living room and sat in my chair again. By this time, I was filled
with different kinds of emotions and was having difficulty eating.
Around the time of the sunset, I "was" in Miami. I heard a deep-
toned male voice say, "This is the beginning." I nodded, though it
felt it wasn't chronologically the beginning.
The third day came. I was feeling weak, because I wasn't eating
anything. I just sat and "watched" the story evolve. I spent all day
somewhere upon the Andes Mountains. The sunset arrived. The
same deep-toned male voice said, "This is the end."