Great Novelist

“I think I know where I am. ”

Thanks to you, he was wandering the path. I made an urgent appointment, so I left in a frenzy.

It was good to be near the publishing house by bus, but there were a lot of book cafes nearby, so I was confused about where I had picked up the meeting place. He took out his phone. to ask for directions to Nam-Kyung.

I followed his description into the alley.

“Here, here. ”

I saw Nam-Kyung waving his hand in front of a building. It was a cafe with a glass pane on one side. I noticed a blue sign.

“Though I didn't expect to hear you say come at once. ”

“Dong-gil is a very practical person. ”

Yeah, I can tell just by asking for a meeting like this.

The two of them went into the cafe. The first thing I saw was a book. The new book has 10% off text next to it. Among them was the book of Australia.

A bookshelf stands in place of a dull wall. There was a book rushed in. It was more centered on books than other book cafes because it was a book cafe inside the publishing house.

As I looked inside the building, I noticed a man who looked thirty. I write with a straight posture. I'm concentrating. The expressionless face of the man seemed a little enlightened.

Apparently, he's a dead end.

Again, the steps of Nam-Kyung were towards him.

“Dong-gil, this is the writer by chance. ”

The man stopped his hand in Nam-Kyung's voice, slowly raised his head and looked at him. I stared at him for a long time.

“Hello."

I salute the young self with respect. He asked me to speak comfortably to him. I accepted the journey without saying a word. Anything is fast when it comes to behavior.

“It's a spaceship. Call me Lord, not coincidence. ”

“Yes."

I decided to order a drink first as an offer from Nam-Kyung. All three of them ordered a warm Americano.

“Do you want some of this piece of cake to sell? ”

“I'd appreciate it if you'd let me. ”

Seeing Australia not eating, he smiled and carved two pieces of cake. It was because he politely refused to like sweet food. Soon there were cakes and Americanos. While Nam-Kyung and Dong-gil greeted each other, he ate a cake. It was delicious.

After the conversation between the two of them, Dong-jae glanced at him. It started a full conversation with a signal.

“I heard you were curious about my face. ”

Comrade Gil confirmed his words.

“Yeah. I was younger than I thought. I can feel your age when I see your face. You read well. ”

I smiled briefly and expressed my gratitude. I wrote several representative works, and it was not bad to be praised by the best seller to write.

“I read a lot of your books, too. ”

“Really? I think it was a little hard for a student to read. ”

Obviously, his book has a hard side to bear. But he was the one who enjoyed the hardness.

“I love Hemingway, too. ”

His noble face softens slightly.

“Hemingway is a good writer. It's on the notebook, and it's clearly on your favorite list. ”

I blinked for a moment. Clearly, what?

“What do you clearly like about it? ”

“A list of things I clearly like. ”

It was literal. I asked him, thinking about what he looked like right after entering the cafe.

“So that's the list you were using before I got here? ”

“It's a journal. ”

He used to write a lot. That's why you're a writer.

“Isn't it a little early in the day to write a diary? ”

“It's my journal, so I always use it. ”

He was right. Some of the writers kept a diary. However, in the case of comradeship, it was in harmony with the word diary in accordance with the wise impression. A man in his thirties who fits the diary well. Exotic.

Besides, what exactly is your favorite list? I've never heard of such a list since I was born. Why would he make a list like that?

“Why would you make such a list? ”

“I want to know exactly what I like. ”

“Do you like clarity? ”

“I don't like or dislike it here. I want to know who I am. ”

I remembered a saying to get to know yourself.

“Do you like Socrates? ”

“I don't hate it. ”

It seemed like a person who was more unusual than he thought.

I took a bite of the half-eaten cake while the conversation was over. Comrades took the cup to their mouths. And I asked.

“Do you remember Hemingway's first encounter? ”

I ask for a favor. I think slowly until the cake in my mouth slips down the back of my neck. The memory of being surprised by Hemingway's signature was not difficult to recall.

“Short. Murderers." ”

“You've read a particularly hard-boiled novel. ”

“That's why I remember it better. I had never written anything so expressionless. ”

The novel "Murderers" was one of the articles in the short book. Two contractors try to kill someone they've never met just for loyalty. This is absurd. There are three people who are aware of this situation.

One is indifferent to stories that are irrelevant to him, and one accepts that there is such a thing. And one resisted.

The man who chose resistance is a man named Nick. Nick looks for targets for contractors. I told him the situation. I told them to call the police for help.

But the target remains motionless. The target speaks. I'm tired of running.

Nick is shocked by all this nonsense and decides to leave town.

Reading that simple story, I thought of everyone's position. I resisted with Nick. I gave up everything with the target and waited for imminent killers.

I took a step back and tried to kill a person while watching, engaging in a culture that was clumsy. Everything was possible.

I admired Hemingway, as did his comrade.

I asked him.

“What was Hemingway's first reading? ”

“Kilimanjaro's Eye. It was actually written by Hemingway on a trip to Africa. ”

Dongjoo said with a sparkle in his eyes.

“I felt like I had heard about it and discovered the secret to life that was written about it. ”

“He reflected his experience in many parts of the novel. ”

Donghae nods.

“That's right. Real love. ”

“Goodbye, weapons. ”

“I went to see the Espana civil war. ”

“For whom does the bell ring? ”

It was all the title of a book with Hemingway's experience. He was satisfied with his answers. It feels good to talk. Maybe he's simpler than I thought. The expression was satisfactory.

“Even his concise style comes from his experience as a journalist. He uses his life as a basis for it. ”

The comrade said that it felt like there was no waste. That's what he did. I feel like the rain is not slowing down and writing down a strange list.

“By the way, Dong-gil is also a journalist. ”

Nam-Kyung who was listening to the story of two writers said. I've never heard of him as a journalist. If he were a journalist, it would have been well known.

I thought the cold impression of being a journalist was vaguely consistent with the job of being a journalist. Recently, the image of a journalist has gotten worse, but the nature of the job is to convey the truth.

“I'm embarrassed to say I'm from the press. How did you know?”

“I had a meeting with Mr. Jung the other day about the plaintiff's request. Just a moment.”

“He's always talking nonsense. The writing he wrote looked like he was imagining himself. I feel bad when I read it. ”

“Is that right? I had fun reading it. ”

Quite an assessment. Even though Nam-Kyung was accustomed to such companionship, he did not forget his eyes. To think it was a joke between close friends, my comrade really hated that look.

“Who are you in the West? ”

“He wears only speculative clothes all season long. It's a concept of outfits. ”

I didn't think anything good would come of asking anymore, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. I only laughed as if I heard a funny sound next to Nam-Kyung. He turned to talk.

“I didn't know you were from the press. ”

“I don't talk with my mouth. ”

You said you were embarrassed earlier. While hesitating to ask if there was a reason I was ashamed of being a journalist, my comrade said so without hesitation.

“I worked as a journalist and quit in one day. ”

This time, I asked without hesitation.

“Why?”

I didn't deserve to know. You quit in one day, you should've left before you got your Temple Certificate.

“Well, for some reason, I knew I was going to resign. It was breathtaking. I thought it best not to waste my time. I became a journalist knowing it was a difficult time to live by writing, but it was a mistake. It was my choice to go behind my back. ”

Then he said confidently.

“Whatever the times, I was capable of earning and living. I was young, too. I panicked and acted in a low self-esteem. ”

However, I did not feel arrogant from the comrade who said, "I am not advocating for this time of unity." As he said the sky was blue and the grass was green, he rated himself that way.

In fact, when I saw him become the best-selling author, I didn't overestimate him for being the best seller.

Efforts to identify yourself objectively.

I see. He doesn't look alike.

I said exactly what I had in mind at the moment.

“You don't look like Hemingway. ”

Comrade Gil silences for a moment. A moment of silence followed me.

“What does that mean? ”

“He had a habit of exaggerating to wrap himself up in a shy, weak self. ”

In that regard, he was a living legend, but unlike Hemingway of violence and bragging.

Comrade Gil sighs and smiles small. The child who was destroyed by the compassion was briefly touched. Yeah, that's right. I whispered a little.

“I learned that at your age. I wasn't that disappointed when I read the book" Across the River Into the Forest. "”

Across the river in the woods is Hemingway's novel, beaten by critics and readers.

“When I heard that he was a hairy girl obsessed with masculinity, I was hurt a lot. Maybe more than Hemingway himself. ”

Hemingway's mother, who wanted a daughter, dressed him as a child. It is even said that he introduced his neighbors to him as Ernestin. As a means of defiance, he enjoyed hunting and fishing and exhibited his masculinity on the surface. It was the beginning of the bluff.

His concise style was revolutionary. It seemed easy, but in fact, the books made of thorough calculations were spectacular. That's why Hemingway, who wrote such a paper, carelessly thought he would do the same.

“I couldn't concentrate on the many testimonies that he was a liar. I felt betrayed at will. I couldn't help feeling sensitive. I wanted to be him, but I didn't want to be him. ”

I was very lost and very worried.

He pulls out a small note from his arms.

“That's why I started writing 'a list that I clearly like.' ”

So that's how it is. The desire to make an objective judgment of oneself came from disappointment. I can't believe there was such a story on my clearly favorite list.

The illusion breaks and you learn another truth. It's painful and unacceptable. But at the end of the day, he goes after it.

Because he respects Hemingway.

“What was the first few words? ”

He asked.

“Hemingway.”

Dongjo replies. He puts a rising verse in his mouth.

“Humans can be destroyed, but they cannot be defeated. ”

“The old man and the sea. ”

His last masterpiece was captured by the end of the road. The old man and the protagonist of the sea, Santiago, murmured in a battle with a flock of sharks to protect the marlin he caught in 84 days. Humans can be destroyed, but not defeated.

“He will not be destroyed or defeated. ”

The four letters written in his notebook were illuminated by the sunlight coming through the glass.