Haruki Murakami: The Moment I Became a Novelist

This epiphany he writes about sounds almost religious in nature. Did he really not consider writing before that? Does his memory fail him, is this a memory construct that makes for a good story but doesn’t hint at what really happened? I’ve never experienced anything like this myself.

I often tell people, when asked about why I do what I do, that I knew I wanted to be a software developer at the age of 10. But it wasn’t a sudden realisation. It came to me after getting an Amiga 500, playing games and then realising I could make my own games. I vividly remember a summer trip to my aunt’s place in Norway where I brought a book on BASIC and devoured a tutorial on how to make a hotel booking system. I was utterly enthralled and thought “maybe one day I can make hotel booking systems for a living”. From then on there was little doubt I would do this.

Except of course when I turned 13 and got into playing rock music on my guitar. I spent the next 7 years feeling lost, because I really wanted to be a musician but the career opportunities seemed unfeasible. It wasn’t until after a brief stint as a data entry clerk in the UK that I came to the conclusion that I needed to get my shit together and go to uni. So I studied Computer Science and here I am at the ripe age of 35 with 10 years of software development experience, thinking I always knew I wanted to do this. But I didn’t, and writing this made me realise that.

If you've not read any of Murakami's fiction and are interested, check out "Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World". I think most HN readers would enjoy it.

Among my group of friends, I've found that everyone's favorite Murakami book is always the first or second they read. After you read a couple, they all start sounding the same. Another angsty young man searches for a girl with serious emotional issues, and there's some metaphor heavy dream sequences and talking animals along the way. I haven't read his recent books but I've read five books of his and it was really tiresome, repetitive reading after book 2-3.

Small anecdote: I was living in Taiwan in 1999 and found an English translation of Pinball, 1973 in a bookshop there. It was a Kodansha imprint, for English learners I think. Anyway, I'd already read a number of Murakami books by that time (Wild Sheep Chase, Dance, Dance, Dance and Wind-up Bird Chronicle), and enjoyed them so I snapped it up. It was an ok read but far from his best (which for me, still remains Wind-up Bird Chronicle).

Later, I researched that Kodansha edition on the net and realised that it had never really been made available in English speaking countries and was fairly rare. So I put it up for sale on eBay, probably in 2000 or 2001. Thought it might attract a bit of interest but was pleasantly surprised when it attracted a lot of interest and eventually sold for something like $300. Can't remember the exact final bid but it was around that. Was happy to sell it for that and still happy now. I doubt it's appreciated in value since then but I could be wrong.

Anyway, it appears from this article that Pinball, 1973 and Hear the wind sing are now finally being published in a generally distributed edition. I'm a little bit surprised because it was my understanding that Murakami thought they were early, weaker works and wasn't particularly keen for them to get new attention.

While not as completely out-of-the-blue, I also had a similarly sudden realization that I wanted to become a computer scientist.

I was in my third year of living in Japan at the time, teaching English in a small, conservative town in which I felt isolated and out of place (despite having become mostly fluent with the language).

My best friend there had left, ironically inspired by me (or so he had claimed) to leave his country and pursue his dreams abroad, in Australia. I had very little left to offer me in Japan, but I had no idea what else to do; my undergrad in physics had left me with an impressive degree but no marketable skills, certainly none that I still possessed 5 years later.

I was in a grocery store in Hamamatsu, listening to one of my favorite podcasts called Skeptically Speaking (now called Science for the People). The episode[0] had a guest named Mark Stevenson, who had written a book exploring the future of various areas of science. At one point he talked about the work of Hod Lipson at Cornell, who had written a program that could investigate data and guess physical equations, and who had also created a robot that taught itself how to walk. I remember him saying that in AI, it's the hard things that are easy, and the easy hard. I remember being so fascinated by this research that I thought, how cool would it be to be involved in this kind of thing? And it was in that moment I decided quite suddenly to become a computer scientist.

I went to a dollar store and bought a notebook, went home and immediately went to MIT's opencourseware site and started the watching the lectures of their introductory CS course. Seven months later, I was back in America at grad school, and a year after that I was a full time software developer.

I still wonder what might have happened if I hadn't happened to listen to that podcast.

[0]: http://www.scienceforthepeople.ca/episodes/an-optimists-tour...

These are lovely anecdotes and he's obviously an interesting and capable story-teller, but he worked very hard to make his nominal epiphany true. The trick of writing in a foreign language as a way of discovering his own voice is fascinating, but it also must have been very difficult.

So a better title might be: "How I was motivated to be dedicated enough to become a novelist." And this is actually a more interesting story, at least for other artists, because the thing everyone faces at the outset is failure and lack of belief in our own work. We have to have something to keep us going. He had that single moment at a baseball game. Others have other things, but having a weird little talisman like that can be very useful in solving the ongoing problem of motivation.

In my own life, at the age of 13 I ate at a Chinese restaurant for the first time (on a school trip to the 'big city' a couple of hours distant from the town I grew up in) and got a fortune cookie that read, in its entirety, "An ambition far beyond your reach".

I've achieved a good deal in the forty years since then, and at times when the going has been particularly tough I've thought back to that and told myself, "Yeah, well, you were told what to expect and went ahead anyway. So don't complain, just get back to work."

Would I have accomplished as much without being able to do that? Maybe, maybe not. But being able to do it made the journey easier at times. It's a silly thing--I don't believe in fate or fortunes--but sometimes silly things can be made to work for us.

So I could say that was "the moment I became X", where X is any major achievement since, but "One weird trick to stay motivated and focused on your goals" would be at least as accurate.

I've read this story before, and often think about how if people don't have examples in life these 'epiphanies' are hard to come by. Non-fictional heroes may get more attention with the access to knowledge we have nowadays, but there's still the problem of focusing in and having the possibility made real in our own minds.

My story: - The pretty big theater I worked for had a crackerjack unix head running a windows/exchange environment like it was no big thing, all from an iBookG3. I was in the shower, at some point in the late fall. and I thought to myself 'I'd like to have a job/get paid to "fix computers"'. I sent away for Apple's Tech Training, someone's husband was starting a consulting company, and 10 years later... well, I like what I do and am lucky to have as many advances as I've had in my short career. Workstation-level sysadmin may not be highly regarded, but at least the book I wrote wasn't by hand.

This is an interesting read. Thanks for sharing it.

What would be a good introduction to his work?

I confused him with Ryū Murakami, another novelist but very different style.