I’ve been deep in the world of Murakami lately, reading Norwegian Wood.

And while I appreciate its artistry, it’s not hitting quite the same way as his other works.

Maybe it’s because I’m neck-deep in writing my own novel right now – a psychological horror about a concert pianist whose reality fractures during a performance of Ravel’s “Gaspard de la Nuit.”

The way Murakami bends reality in books like Wind-Up Bird Chronicle feels closer to what I’m trying to achieve with my protagonist Ava’s descent into musical madness.

Speaking of psychological horror, a friend who read some chapters of my manuscript recently compared it to Thomas Ligotti’s work.

I’d never read Ligotti before, but now I’m diving in, and wow – there’s definitely something in that DNA that resonates with what I’m exploring in my book.

The way he handles psychological deterioration and the thin membrane between reality and nightmare… it’s exactly the territory I’m trying to navigate with Ava’s relationship with her mysterious alter ego, Ember.

It’s fascinating how reading other authors while writing your own book creates this strange resonance chamber. Each book you absorb somehow speaks to what you’re creating, even when the connections aren’t obvious at first glance.