From the moment Digitalboy announced his Diary of an Anime Lived project, I was interested. True, it’s usually not a good idea for an anime blogger to talk more about themselves than about anime, but there are times when personal posts add an extra level of realism to an invisible writer and their opinions. It’s also intriguing to see how fiction can impact lives, intentionally or not.
However, when the project was announced and posts started surfacing, I quickly realized that anime hasn’t impacted me as much as I thought it had. Sure, my life is different today because of anime – but it’s the fandom that changed me, not any particular work of fiction. I could have rambled on about Honey and Clover and shoujo manga and unrequited love, but that’s not quite what the project is about. H&C might be my favourite anime, but it didn’t make me rethink anything. It’s my Bible, and it made me want to cry for every Takemoto and Morita and Hagu, every Ayumi and Rika and Mayama, but it didn’t make me rethink anything.
My prospects were looking bleak for a while: I’m from an ordinary, functional family, I attended reasonably safe and healthy schools, and I don’t suffer from any psychological problems. There isn’t much in my life that I can ramble on about, no tear-jerking awakenings spawned by a heroic struggle in anime.
Towards the end of the year, though, I realized something. I found a connection in a character who couldn’t be more different from me: Emiya Shirou.
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