Where I used to live in Kanazawa, Japan, was deep in the heart of a residential district of the city. It was a place of old buildings, people and dreams. It was where I found Gold River City, the imaginary representation of Kanazawa city that lives on in my imagination.
The trouble is, when I go back to the same neighborhoods, I am not going back to the same places. My apartment, that I lived in for 3 years, is now completely gone. So much has changed one might get lost on the same streets that were familiar only a decade ago. Only the Sakura shrine remains unchanged, which makes a lot of sense because religious sights rarely get make overs.
But the memories persist in between the cracked stucco and ripped rice paper windows of a city I used to walk through every waking hour of my life. The dreams are still there, the memories, and I will mine them for the diamonds that remain buried. They will shine, because I want them to shine. That is one of the magic things about fiction. It is a highlighter for things reality takes for granted. Things that are probably now long gone.
Fiction is a different world from our own.
Keep writing, remembering and dreaming. It’s what makes you a writer.