Henry and I met at a writers’ workshop in Daikanyama. He laughed when I told him I usually avoided them because I hated to read poor writing. ‘You pretentious prick,’ he said. ‘I think I love you.’ It was my first — and only — writers’ workshop. . . . Henry wrote a blog. He called it stream of consciousness. He said that was his style. This was intentional — it meant he never had to edit anything. Sometimes he wrote what he thought. Other times, he wrote what he wanted people to think he thought...