In the past year, one of the stories I’m writing for my collection has pulled me unexpectedly into 1930s Japan.

I’ve been doing a lot of reading about that era — and particularly its aesthetic legacy.  So browsing at my local bookstore the other day, I was excited to come across this compact, accordion-folded book about the art of 1920s and 30s Japanese matchboxes.

The story for my book is still finding its shape, but I’ve been enjoying the research for this piece, which keeps drawing me in new and interesting directions.  For now, I’m focusing on savoring the process.  Sometimes writing fiction offers unsought gifts.   Even while waiting for each piece in the collection to unfold.