About Me

This is Aja. I write fanfic and blather about gay serial killers. I have a guitar named Rex Stout that I can’t play, and a piano named Maayah that I can. In the endless war between zombies and unicorns, I am Team Zombie. Welcome to my journal!

All content on this site is duplicated on my livejournal. This blog is a mix of fandom & media commentary. I frequently blog about films, YA literature, and some sf/f.

If you want to know more about this journal, my contact info, and my review policy, start here.

If you’re feeling sentimental and you want to check out the old livejournal welcome post & poll, it’s here.

Feel free to drop me an email or find me on twitter if you have any questions or just want to say hi! Or, since this is ye olde welcome post, you can say hello right here. :)

Thanks for dropping by, and thanks for reading my journal!

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It’s May Fifth! You know what that means….!

Happy Hikago Day!!!

Technically this LJ is on hiatus until the end of June, but it’s May 5th, and on May 5th, exceptions must be made.

For anyone new to this journal, Hikaru no Go is my true love. If you have never watched this show or read the manga, here’s my Top 5 pimp post about why it is the best. Best, best, best. Best story ever, best characters ever, best epic metaphor for life turned into a shounen manga series ever. Oh, my heart. Hikago has a unique place in the annals of beloved manga/anime series for many people. There’s just something about it that’s truly special.

This year, Manga Bookshelf, a wonderful fan review site run by my friend Melinda Beasi, is doing a very special roundtable on Hikaru no Go to celebrate the publication of the final volume of the series’ English translation (which was released, fittingly enough, on May 5th).

Melinda asked me to be a part of the roundtable discussion, which has been fantastic. If you’re a fan of the series (or don’t mind being thoroughly spoiled), please check it out. Those ladies are so smart and articulate, and we had a wonderful, fun discussion.

Every year since 2007, I have done a special Top 5 meme in honor of Hikaru no Go to celebrate May 5th. It’s my favorite post of the year – Hikago fans ask each other for their top-5 Hikago-related things! It’s so much fun and reminds me every year how wonderful this series is.

Melinda also asked me if I would like to do a very special Manga Bookshelf version of this year’s Top 5 meme, the only answer was: of course! What better to celebrate the 5th anniversary of my meme? And what better way to celebrate a story that’s all about connection than connecting with other people who aren’t on LJ? :D

So! Hikago fans! You can find this year’s Top 5 meme at Manga Bookshelf, right this way!

Bring your game faces, and LET’S FIVE! :D

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Fic: The Sons & Daughters of Hungry Ghosts. Inception, Mal/Dom/Saito.

Title: The Sons & Daughters of Hungry Ghosts
Author: Aja
Pairing(s): all permutations of Mal/Dom/Saito
Rating: R
Word Count: 5,500
Warnings: mindfuckery, dark themes, mild descriptions of graphic imagery, mild dubious consent

Summary: Mal becomes Orpheus to save Dom, or maybe just to save herself.

Written for .
Challenge art is by koushi; view/review it here!

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fic: reason #398534 why Monte Carlo is never a good idea

So far in this fandom, i have consistently shown that i can only produce fic while drunk, drunk, or drunk. To this tally we can now add: while high on Vicodin.

This is a twitter fic that mirabellawotr told me to write. Apparently, she tells me to do things and I do things, because 1600 words eked out in 140-character-limit tweets later, I am bringing my shame to LJ to tell you all, DO NOT DO THIS AT HOME. And by “this” i mean, “please do not spam your twitter followers with terrible unbeta’d clichefic written off the cuff while you are nursing a burgeoning career as a dope fiend.”

But anyway, here is 1600 words of fake boyfriend twitterfic. And no, it hasn’t been beta’d, it’s twitterfic. The amount of self-loathing I feel right now is roughly equivalent to the amount that Arthur is going to feel when he wakes up in the morning and realizes that he got totally sloshed and pawed Eames’ Cavalli and Eames let him because he’s a posh slut.

(Eames’ Cavalli, btw, is this number from the Fall 2011 collection, because of course that is what he would wear to a gay cruise night in Monte Carlo, come on. Have I mentioned I was high when I wrote this.)

right, okay. onward.

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Take the challenge! Join the OTW.

Earlier this month I was asked to write a guest blog post for the Organization for Transformative Works (the OTW) in support of their March Fundraising Drive. I hope you will please read this post and others from around the community and think about what the OTW means, or could mean, to each of us in fandom. Please follow this week as they update! My guest blog is crossposted below.

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Recently, I’ve had two of my default assumptions about fandom overturned.

Assumption #1: The Powers That Be know what fandom is.

In May, I attended the first annual Book Blogger convention, where a room full of publishing reps were asked, “How many of you know what fanfiction is?” I was stunned when less than half of them raised their hands.

In fandom, we face constant threat of exposure, legal repercussions, etc. It’s hard to grasp that lots of media professionals don’t find fanwork threatening because they don’t even know what it is. When they *do* discover fanwork, their response hinges on their overall view of fan culture. When they perceive fan culture as a positive thing, fandom becomes safer from threat.

I believe that no one can portray fandom more positively than fandom itself. But do we always?

Assumption #2: Fans know fandom is nothing to be ashamed of.

If fandom has taught me anything, it’s that legitimized fanwork exists everywhere. So when I posted a long list of examples to show how fanfic fits into a larger cultural spectrum of reworking previous sources, I assumed I was re-stating the obvious.

But the outpouring of response I received was overwhelmingly one of surprise. I hadn’t realized how many fans saw fanfic as illegitimate, or how eye-opening and empowering a simple list of examples to the contrary could be.

Fandom may no longer be widely viewed as something closeted and shameful, but we’re still transitioning. We often need reminders that fanwork has cultural and creative significance. We need fans advocating for the legitimacy of fanwork–not just for legal reasons, or as liasons to the general public, but for ourselves.

That’s the reason I’ve been a member of the OTW since its inception. I want my community to take pride in itself and the things it creates. And I take constant pride in the OTW, not only because it secures legal protections for fans, rescues endangered fanworks, and tirelessly educates the public about fandom, but because just by existing, it proves that fans and fanworks are a part of a larger collective experience. The OTW exists as an invitation and a challenge for us to express, to the world and each other, what a vast and valuable part fandom plays in modern culture, and what a wonderful, irreplaceable community experience it is.

Take the challenge! Join the OTW.

23-29 March 2011 OTW Membership Drive

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Fic: Goes Down Easy. Arthur/Eames, NC-17, 5,000 words.

So, I’m supposed to be reviewing Moon Child instead of writing porn, but I said that if I magically was inspired to write something that I’d post it no matter what; and there’s this whole thing where Tom Hardy is a mythical being?

See also:

And now that I have your attention–porn.

Goes Down Easy.
5,000 words, NC-17, by Aja.

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Japanese Cinema Blogathon #3: What’s in the bag? Asian Horror & the Great Divide

NJapan Cinema/CinemaFanatic‘s weeklong Japanese Cinema Blogathon. Donate here; or check after the entry for more places to donate.

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There was originally going to be a review of Audition here but then butterflythread made a great post (warning: link contains graphic imagery and detailed textual & visual references to gore, violence, and disturbing horror film imagery) about the use of the abject in horror films, referencing mostly American & European horror.

So that got me thinking about the special quality of Asian horror films that made them all the rage at the turn of the century. And how Audition is the perfect encapsulation, as a film, of everything that was wonderful about that impulse, and also everything that went so horribly awry. In fact we don’t even have to talk about Audition as a whole. (Esp. since JapanCinema just reviewed it as part of the blogathon today!)

We can just talk about The Bag.

For those of you who haven’t seen Audition, the main thing to know is that it succeeds on its lack of pretense as a horror film. The first half appears to be a harmless, unassuming (if surreal) comedy of errors about a man’s attempts to find a wife. You’re thinking, oh, what a strange, odd, yet sweet little film about dysfunctional romances and age differences in modern urban life.

And then this shit happens.

The Bag is the iconic, defining image of this film. It’s a symbol of both the horror of the body/soul divide and a symbol of the genre divisions of horror itself. You have no idea what’s in The Bag. You don’t want to know what’s in The Bag.

But whatever’s in The Bag, it ain’t pretty, and it ain’t good.

There were a handful of quintessential Japanese horror films at the end of the 90′s that crossed over into the American mainstream and kick-started American interest in Japanese horror for most of the next decade, though that’s waned thanks to lots and lots of crappy remakes, and Tartan’s now-bankrupt “Asian Extreme” brand. But in the beginning, there were a handful: Ringu (1998), Audition (1999), Pulse (2001), and Ju-On (2000/2003). Arguably Battle Royale (2000) and Ichi the Killer (2001) were also forerunners of this movement, too; but I want to set them aside for a moment and talk about the other four, for the obvious reason that they sidestep the typical gore-splattered effects of the modern horror genre and opt for a more heavily suspense-driven suggestion-based approach to the creation of fear.

American studios, used to many decades of gore-splattered zombie, vampire, and teen slasher films, took away completely the wrong thing from American film-lovers’ new interest in Asian horror. They decided it meant that it was time for a recontextualization of traditional Western horror elements. So they looked at the basic ingredients of Battle Royale and Ichi the Killer, and in synthesizing those elements with American horror, essentially wound up with a whole new genre, torture porn.

When they looked at the basic ingredients of The Ring, The Grudge, and Pulse, however, American studios floundered. As a genre, it must have been easy to build on the ravenous, violent social commentary of the first two films; but after they got done doing literal, shot-for-shot recreations of the other films, there wasn’t much for American horror films left to synthesize. They failed to realize that films like Ringu and Ju-On, and the frustratingly ambiguous Pulse, had more in common with those other late films of the 90′s, The Sixth Sense, The Blair Witch Project, and The Others. All of these American films (like their predecessors, The Haunting, The Birds, Rosemary’s Baby, and countless other horror classics) opted for the Jamesian approach to supernatural horror, depicting it as a symptom rather than a cause of human psychological breakdown. This new wave of Japanese horror films took our imaginations a step further: they presented internal and external horror as permanently, inextricably conjoined. And they did that by de-emphasizing many of the tried-and-true horror techniques of American/European cinema. No one remembers how many bodies are dismembered in each of the Saw movies; but everyone remembers the horse jumping over the side of the boat.

And everyone remembers the Thing In the Bag.

Audition, to me, sits in the middle of these two impulses. It has elements of both the graphic horror genre and the implied horror genre. It has a set of protagonists who are all complicit in creating the horror that lives in the shadows of our heroine’s apartmet. But it also has such a strong psychological component that it’s easy to forget that nothing supernatural actually happens in the film. The Bag, as an image, is so powerful that it seems to be superhuman, mythological. (Is there some supernatural element involved in keeping the Thing In The Bag alive? We will never know, but aren’t you tempted to wonder?)

In most modern American horror films, there’s a defining point of origin for the evil: Freddy, Jason, the Devil, the Candyman, a coven of witches. In Asian horror, there’s often an eternal grudge, a ghost caught in a permanent time loop, or a strange new form of evil creeping out of Pandora’s Technogadget. These things aren’t palpable, and often are immutable, uncontrollable. You can’t hope to harness them anymore than you can hope to pinpoint their origins. Likewise, the Thing in the Bag, though it may have a definite origin, history, and backstory, resides in that loop of inhuman and uncontrollable terror. It has a direct correlation to that other longstanding horror trope of The Hatbox, something that carries an instant mythos of its own without you ever needing to see what’s inside it; even as you know that, inevitably, you must see what’s inside.

And this is where, to return to the concept of the abject, the Spirit/Body divide is also a reflection of the Supernatural/Psychological divide; the place where the body and spirit are horrifically severed is the same space in which supernatural & psychological evil are permanently conjoined. Uzumaki (Spiral) (2000), based on the manga of the same name by Ito Junji. Spiral is a lacklustre adaptation of a very clear idea: that evil elements occupy a life cycle as surely as any living thing.

Ito’s horror manga is completely concerned with the delineation of that yin/yang push and pull: he depicts a kind of supernatural/personal nesting space, not only thematically, but quite literally, in one of his most famous short stories: The Enigma of Amigara Fault, which you can read online here (remember manga is read from right to left). DISCLAIMER: This manga has brief images of earthquake devastation and survivors. Please please do not read if you will be triggered or made uncomfortable in any way by these images. Alternately, you can read a plot synopsis here.

In the Enigma of Amigara Fault, Ito creates an iconic and terrifying image: hundreds of person-shaped holes have opened up on a mountainside. Each hole seems to correspond to fit an individual. So people delightedly flock to the mountain, determined to find their hole, their special, custom-tailored bit of inexlicable phenomena. So quite literally, the mangaka gives us this image of a unification of the body/spirit divide that also encompasses this joining of the external/supernatural and the internal/psychological. Not only is the origin source unknown, but there is no knowing what you will find when you find the hole that belongs to you. Just like the Thing in the Bag presents the concrete visual of the body, dehumanized and de-contextualized, Ito’s person-shaped holes present the completely abstract extreme of the body/soul divide: the spirit, meeting the supernatural, calling out to the body to rejoin it like a child returning to the womb. We recognize the inherent drive to seek out our own tailored supernatural experience because we know that that supernatural phenomenon is already, in part, created by us, as we are created by it. (Which came first, the person or the hole/womb?)

In the same way, we are driven to recognize the inherent humanity of the Thing in the Bag, despite the accompanying horror of that discovery. And this is the great genius of Asian horror: it joins the personal to the external so fully that we have to recognize the extent to which all supernatural phenomena is self-created. Somewhere out there is a person-shaped crater for each of us, whether six-feet underground or just on the surface, waiting for us to crawl into it. And just as we recognize that we are all irresistibly drawn to that personalized darkness, we realize that being drawn to that darkness is paradoxically part of what makes us human. And that is the starkest juxtapostiion of all: the realization that to be alive is to be drawn always, inexorably, towards death–

–and the realization that the Thing in the Bag is us.

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Places to Donate to Help Japan:

Japanese Cinema Blogathon, #2: Images of women in Japanese film.

NJapan Cinema/CinemaFanatic‘s weeklong Japanese Cinema Blogathon. Donate here; or check after the entry for more places to donate.

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Kazama Shiori.

When she was only 17, her short Imitation Interior became the first film to win the PIA Film Festival Scholarship. She’s gone on to write and direct feature-length films focusing on 20-somethings struggling with adulthood in modern Japan: How Old is the River (1995), Mars Canon (2002), and Sekai no Owari (2005).

Kawase Naomii. In 1997, for her autobiographical documentary Embracing, she became the youngest person ever to win the Camera D’Or (for best new director) at Cannes.

Ten years later, for her feature film The Mourning Forest, she won the Grand Prize.

watch the trailer for The Mourning Forest

Tanada Yuki. Winner of the 2008 Directors Guild of Japan award for her film One Million Yen and the Nigamushi Woman, Tanada is a filmmaker who places women at the center of her stories, and gives them agency and freedom. Her films tackle a heady host of issues including teen sexual exploration, queer identity, female sexual empowerment, and coming of age in modern Japan.

Quote from Tanada’s Midnight Eye Interview: “I want to be known as a filmmaker, not a woman filmmaker. As you know, there are male directors and women directors who produce interesting and not so interesting films, regardless of their sex. I don’t think there’s any difference in approach or subject matter between men or women. I think if you had the same script and you gave it to a different filmmaker, it doesn’t matter if they were male or female, a different movie would come out. I don’t think gender has anything to do with it. It’s the individual who defines how the film turns out.”

Ninagawa Mika. Renowned and award-winning photographer, cinematographer, and director, you can see her trademark color-bursting style in the AKB48 MV , which she directed, or in her fashion shoots for Vogue Japan. Her directorial debut, Sakuran (2007), is scripted by Tanada, and is a critically acclaimed, color-saturated depiction of female sexuality.

Ando Momoko and Ando Sakura.

The daughters of famous filmmaker Okuda Eiji, both have achieved success and critical acclaim: Sakura notably through her award-winning role in Love Exposure, which Jasper Sharp calls “the most exciting film to come out of Japan in years;” Momoko through her directorial debut, Kakera, about the relationship between two young women struggling with their sexualities and with adulthood.


Ibi Keiko. Former Miss Japan, NYU grad Ibi became only the second Japanese director in history to win a non-honorary Academy Award–in 1999 for her Documentary Short, “The Personals.”

This puts her in a club of exactly two people: herself and Akira Kurosawa.

Hamano Sachi.

With over 300 films to her credit, Hamano worked her way up in the pink film industry to become a legend who ran her own production company, and garnered the title of the most prolific filmmaker in Japan.

After realizing that her body of work was being largely critically ignored because of the subject matter, she set out to include more mainstream films in her portfolio, featuring empowered heroines and gay and lesbian protagonists.

Since 2000, her films such as In Search of a Lost Writer (2000) and Lily Festival (2001) have taken top prize at film festivals around the world.

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Places to Donate to Help Japan: