推敲・the craft of revising your own writing
Your Japanese reading is years ahead of your writing.
Suikō is a daily writing practice with an exacting editor. Write one short page a day; it marks exactly what’s off — the particle, the word choice, the register — and tells you what to use instead. It never writes it for you, because rewriting it yourself is how it sticks.
Your first three rounds of correction are free.
No card, no placement test.
What feedback looks like
最近、心が動いた出会いについて書いてください。
Unnatural
起業のことについて
After a noun like 起業, the こと is padding. 「起業について」 is the natural form.
use this起業について
Incorrect
よく分かれなかった
Potential-form confusion: 分かる is already potential in sense, so it never takes 〜れる. You want 「よく分からなかった」.
use this分からなかった
Unnatural
情熱を見て
Grammatical but flat. Being moved by someone's passion is rendered with 触れる — you touch it, you don't watch it.
use this情熱に触れて
The plateau isn’t a myth. It’s a missing rep.
You’ve done the input: the Anki deck with five digits on it, the novels, the meetings you follow without effort, maybe an N1 certificate in a drawer. And your own Japanese still comes out stiff, translated-sounding, a register too low. The gap between 分かる and 使える does not close from the input side.
ChatGPT is a ghostwriter.
Paste your paragraph in and it comes back perfect — and unfamiliar. You read it, nod, and retain nothing, because the machine did the only rep that counts: producing the sentence.
“Sounds unnatural” is not feedback.
A verdict without the fix leaves you exactly where you were. You needed the actual collocation — 好評を得る — not a hint that one exists somewhere.
Nobody is keeping score.
You’ve traded で and に at the same corner for three years. A tutor circles it weekly; nothing counts how often, or notices when it finally stops.
書く。朱が入る。自分で直す。
Write. Get marked. Fix it yourself — the same loop a Japanese editor runs on a manuscript, or a calligraphy teacher on a student’s sheet.
一 書く
One page a day — 200 to 400 characters against a real prompt, with grammar patterns to reach for if you want them. At least one N1 pattern every day, because comfortable practice isn’t practice.
二 朱が入る
The editor marks your draft in vermilion: every problem anchored to your own words, with the exact word, particle, or pattern to consider. Typos get one line, not a grammar lecture. And it cannot rewrite your entry — that rule is built into how Suikō works, not a politeness the AI might forget.
三 直す
You revise; it checks whether each fix landed, round by round, and tells you when another pass would only surface preferences. Corrections become cloze cards you can export as a real
.apkg— double-click, review tomorrow.
And once an entry is finished — written, marked, revised, done — you can reveal a native version of it. After the work, never instead of it.
A year of writing should look like a year of writing.
Every entry you finish is bound into a monthly volume — pages written, characters written in your own hand, searchable forever. Ten years from now it’s a record of your life, written in Japanese, with the marks that made it better still in the margins.
And it stays honest. The editor never rewrites your entry, and every draft you send for marking is kept exactly as you wrote it — so when you look back at January, you see January, and how far you’ve come since.
今日も一枚。
One page today.
Your first three rounds of correction are free — spend them on one entry driven to done, or three first drafts. Then it’s $9 a month.