What do you get when two Japanese warrior women armed with snacks, sarcasm, and ancestral trauma set off across Scotland in a beat-up car?
Disaster. Laughter. And maybe spiritual enlightenment—if they survive the sheep.
Drive, Die, Repeat is not a travel guide. It’s a full-throttle, side-splitting, emotionally unhinged diary of a road trip that was never meant to be a book. From cursed battlefields to haunted cairns, from burger-fuelled prophecies to historic blunders and sheep-based warfare, this is the chronicle of two chaos gremlins leaving a trail of confusion, haggis, and existential crises across the UK.
Meet martial artist, silent storm, and the designated driver of doom. Meet her loud cousin, spiritual raccoon, and snack hoarder with god-complex energy. Together, they are what happens when Onna Musha collide with British heritage sites and forget the meaning of “appropriate behaviour.”
Seven days. One war wagon. Zero chill.
If you like samurai metaphors, unhinged road trips, cursed GPS directions, and witnessing the emotional breakdown of Scotland in real time—welcome. You’ve found your clan.
Hier ist die überarbeitete Version, in der du ausschließlich als Autorin auftrittst – ohne Master, PhD oder akademische Titel:
I’m Sumiko Nakano, a British–Japanese author who somehow ended up living between two worlds — the one I research, and the one I actually inhabit. Born in Ōsaka-shi and raised in the UK, I lost my ability to speak after an accident as a child. I didn’t get my voice back, so I built a new one through writing. Silence didn’t shut me down; it simply forced me to communicate with more intent than most people ever need to.
My work focuses on 19th-century Japan, especially the Boshin War and the women history decided to misplace, soften, or ignore. I don’t write the tidy version of events. I write the version that still bites. My novels and historical books are stitched together from research, stubbornness, and an annoying tendency to keep digging until the truth stops hiding.
At the centre of my writing are women, conflict, memory, and the silences left behind by history. I am interested in the people who were pushed to the edges of the record, reduced to footnotes, or removed from the story entirely. My work brings them back not as symbols, but as complicated, living human beings.
Somewhere along the way, my stories wandered off the page and onto the screen. Short films based on my Daughters of Wars series received Awards of Excellence at the One-Reeler Short Film Competition in Los Angeles. It was a strange experience, considering much of the work began at my desk with far too much determination and far too little sleep.
What I write is simple: history with a pulse.
Not museum-glass history. Not the polite version.
The kind you can feel in your ribs.
Silence may be the loudest part of my life, but on the page, that quiet becomes force. And when my books do their job, you won’t simply read the past.