Curry Zawa Kaoru’s Creative Counseling - “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to draw what I truly envision.” Perhaps you’re being too idealistic.

What I want to draw and what I can actually draw are worlds apart

I have a favorite ship that I’d love to draw fan art of for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, my art style is far from befitting them. In my opinion, my ship would look much better if drawn with a more artsy and stylistic flair, and that seems to be the majority of the fan art I encounter.

My art style, on the other hand, pretty much screams otaku; and not in a good way, either—think anime body pillows and the like. If you were to look at my fan art, you’d probably think, “Aw, they’re doing the most just trying to draw their favorite ship.” While I’m also a commercial illustrator, I only seem to be digging myself deeper into the otaku art style hole, further widening the gap between what I wish to illustrate and reality.

Whenever I see the stylistic illustrations of my oshis pop up on my timeline, I can’t help but think how much better my storyboard would look if it were illustrated by those artists instead, which makes me depressed about not being able to draw like them.

How should I come to terms with the fact that what I want to draw and what I can draw simply don’t match up? I’d love to know what you think.

“Hiei would never say something like that.”

I’ll spare you the raunchy details, but this phrase became infamous after a certain YuYu Hakusho fan supposedly uttered it in response to a pleb’s completely out-of-character remark during a Hiei x Kurama roleplaying session.

However, even if a Hiei superfan had been involved and whispered sweet nothings that were in character, there’s no guarantee that the YuYu Hakusho fan in question would have deemed them acceptable.

While some otakus are happy to see their oshi in any scenario they can imagine and will gladly click through every tag available, other fans can be pickier and much harder to please.

Naturally, there’s no right or wrong answer when it comes to supporting your faves. If we’re talking about which is easier, though, I’d say you’re better off being what I like to call a “non-picky eater.”

Some otakus have the great misfortune of being into fandoms so niche that there are hardly any tags or couplings to choose from, despite them being open to just about anything. However, if your oshi is a popular character from a major fandom and you don’t have any specific preferences, you’ll most likely be spoilt for choice for life.

On the other hand, if you have strict preferences or your own interpretations of how things “ought” to be, you’ll probably find anything that strays from them somewhat distasteful. In this case, should you be unfortunate enough to encounter fan art or fiction of your oshis that is too OOC, you might no longer be able to consume any fan works ever again.

Of course, that’s not to say there aren’t any benefits to having your own headcanon. Just like how archaeologists reconstruct dinosaurs and the periods in which they lived based on the fossils they excavate, fans can use official canons as a starting point to reimagine and construct their own interpretations of their oshis.

At times, other fans’ headcanons may impress you, or you might have your feathers ruffled by interpretations that completely oppose your headcanon. Furthermore, there’s always the possibility that the official canon will release a statement or art of your oshi that you previously found unthinkable, in which case you’ll be faced with the difficult decision of either A) starting over from scratch like a good archaeologist whose theory is debunked due to the discovery of a new site, or B) proudly declaring that it’s the official canon that has it all wrong. While the road may be filled with occasional potholes, as far as satisfaction is concerned, being a “picky eater” is just as rewarding as being a non-picky eater.

Maybe you’re idealizing your oshis too much

However, while it might be all fun and games inside your head where you have complete freedom to edit the appearance of your oshis and OTPs and reinvent them as you please, the trouble begins when you try to translate what’s in your head onto paper or the screen. Trying to express your headcanon into drawings or words can be just as challenging as when a researcher publishes a paper to make their theories known to the world.

If you’re someone who’s skilled at drawing and writing, you might not have to worry about being shocked at the discrepancy between the image of your oshi you have in your head and the “thing” before you that looks like something a cat coughed up.

That’s probably beside the point, though. Seeing as you’re a commercial illustrator, you’re most likely already good at drawing, and to other people, your fan art of your OTP might even be considered god-tier.

This reminds me of a scene from Tomie, one of Junji Ito’s masterpieces.

In this scene, a man who is obsessed with the femme fatale, Tomie, mutters her name over and over again as he paints a portrait of her in a frenzy. Upon completion, however, he destroys the canvas with his bare hands, lamenting that it doesn’t look “right” at all.

Many otakus have exclaimed, “You and me both, brother!” at this famous scene, which has spawned countless memes. As for whether the man’s portrait of Tomie was actually that terrible or not, the answer is, of course, no.

However, due to being wholly obsessed with Tomie, the man probably couldn’t accept anything less than the “perfect” image he had of her in his head; in his opinion, a painting that was merely “good” but not “flawless” had no right to exist.

Since you cherish your ship to the point that you’re determined to draw them for the rest of your life, there’s a chance that your image of them may be distorted, much like the man obsessed with Tomie.

In other words, in addition to the art style you envision being perfect for them and your own differing significantly, your standards may have become so unrealistic that they’re now entirely unachievable, in which case, your chances of creating something you’re happy with are slim to none.

This type of fan will likely remain dissatisfied with their work and continue to draw until their hand bleeds, even if everyone else around them tries to convince them of how god-tier their art is and begs them to stop.

Because of how exhausting this can be, some people choose not to draw their number one fave.

Just as how some people come to the conclusion that their oshi would never fall in love with them and opt for a different character to be the protagonist while reading a dream novel* of their favorite characters, some fans would rather entrust other artists to create fan art of their oshis than attempt it themselves.

I, too, am one such person who gave up drawing Hijikata from FGO early on, choosing to wait for divine blessings to appear on my timeline or for the official canon to release them.

If the headcanon you envision doesn’t exist, then you have no choice but to draw it yourself. However, if seeing stylistic fan art of your fave ship on your timeline makes you disappointed in your art every time, there’s always the option to stop drawing your OTP and entrust that job to other fan artists instead.

*T/N: A “dream novel” is a type of Japanese fan-made novel on the internet where readers can decide some of the characters’ names (usually the protagonist). While initially intended as self-insert fanfiction, many people also opt to type in their favorite characters’ names instead.

The road to “perfection” is far from easy

That said, I’m sure it’s not easy to let go of the idea of trying to recreate your ideal OTP fan art. One option I consider at least 15 times a day is to focus purely on writing the story and leave the illustrating to someone with an art style more in line with what I want. The downside of this, of course, is that the illustrator could potentially lose their mind if you’re too controlling and allow them zero artistic freedom.

Given that you’re probably just as passionate about your favorite ship as the artist in Tomie is about the eponymous femme fatale, it’s possible that you’ll tear apart your collaborator’s work, both literally and figuratively.

For the sake of your sanity and the illustrator’s, I recommend not giving up on drawing your oshis. Keep giving it your best shot.

Also, consider this: isn’t it better not to be able to draw your favorite ship “perfectly” if you’re determined to commit yourself to it for life?

They say that the reason gambling can be so addicting is because there’s always the possibility that “things might be different this time around,” even if everything remains pretty much the same.

Since it’s not easy to change one’s art style, you’ll most likely continue to give birth to incredibly “otaku” fan art that is far from what your ideal fan art looks like and throw your hands up in despair each time.

What I’m trying to suggest is to think of it this way: although it’s not easy to get the results you want, it’s entirely possible that the next piece you work on will turn out to be the artsy, stylistic OTP fan art of your dreams, a joy that seasoned artists may rarely get to experience.

Unlike gambling, which is mostly dependent on your bank account, nothing is stopping you from trying again and again to create more art. Not many people are fortunate enough to have such an economical, sustainable, and, above all, legal way to “scratch the itch,” so I’d say you’re pretty lucky in that regard.

↑ Feel free to send your troubles in languages other than Japanese, too.

This column was made into a book!

The popular column Curry Zawa Kaoru’s Creative Counseling has been made into a book titled Otaku no Tanoshii Seisaku Ron (The Delightful Art of Otaku Creation, Bungeishunju).

In addition to fan-favorite episodes such as “Coping with fanwork taking a little too many liberties”, “When you can’t get feedback in an underdeveloped genre”, “Is 40 too old for doujin events?” and “Understanding the troubles and contradictions of killing off your favorite characters”, the book also includes brand new topics and advice!

>>Buy on Amazon Japan<<

Interviews

Does jealousy grow stronger if you're ignorant of how hard the other person worked? Curry Zawa Kaoru and Tsuzuru Sanada discuss the challenges surrounding creativity

To celebrate the release of the book, we had a chat with Curry Zawa and Tsuzuru Sanada (author of Doujin Onna no Kanjo). Give it a read!

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Curry Zawa Kaoru
Born in 1982. Unemployed. Her works include Kremlin (Kodansha), Makeru Gijutsu (Kodansha), and Busu no Honkai (Ohta Publishing). Her hobby is egosurfing.
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