Great Novelist

An old notebook unfolds in the center of the desk. Anyone can see the rushed writing is subtractive. It is a burden to even keep an eye on it. No matter how close I get, I don't get used to it. I felt myself standing in the day. The windows are rattling. The wind seems to be strong today. It is a leafy season.

This was not what I had been doing. I did not seem to be writing. I feel like I'm writing it down. It's stuff.I want to quit right now. My mouth is full of bitter water. I don't want to swallow Highly stacked manuscripts are not very helpful.

The story was in the midst of a crisis. I wrote and thought, "What other story in the world is so boring?" Being there is a pathetic past. You draw a thick line. After five hours, you hear a voice you shouldn't hear when you lower your hand.

“Teacher.”

A raven came in. I forgot to lock the door again.

“If you snuck in, you shouldn't have teased. ”

“Can't you see I have it in my hand? ”

You look at it roughly. He has a knife in his hand. I blinked slowly. The day shines sharply.

“I see you're carrying something dangerous. ”

“I'll stab you. ”

He looked down at the manuscript in his hand.

“I need an explanation. ”

“You said that. Get what you want. ”

It was recent. It was the right thing to say to get rid of the crows.

“I'm trying. ”

He looked at him for a moment and said.

“I have fallen on my head. ”

He shakes his head violently, and the dry piece falls down. The clothes he's wearing are pretty thick now. I saw dead skin on my lips. It was a dry season, and it was also an emotionally mobile season. At the end of fall, the crow becomes sentimental. He looked down at the leaves and said,

“Pick it up and throw it away. ”

“It's about time you accepted me. As time goes by, I get nervous. Realistically, time is limited. It's the only time I can live like this. ”

“That's your problem. ”

“I'll stab you.”

He sighed. The crow comes forward one step. The blade was in an elaborate shape. I got up quickly. I reached out my hand and wrapped it around the blade. The crow did not shake. I felt a cold expression on my face as if I was looking in the mirror. You feel a dull pain as you tighten your hands.

“Looks like the director sent you another useless item. ”

“Look at this. ”

As he presses the tip of the blade, the day goes in. It is so real that no one notices.

“It's a fake. ”

The crow holds out the manuscript in his arms with a knife.

“Please take a look at my article. This time, I've written about life. ”

“Can't you see I'm busy? ”

The crow stabs his heart with a knife and dies. It wasn't fun, but I laughed. The raven went out and brought a parcel box and a letter. Miscellaneous things seemed to intersect. I send things I didn't ask for. I didn't feel bad.

“This is from the Coin Writer. ”

He opened the letter. The writing of the coin was located.

“Son of a bitch. ”

I told him I was surprised.

“The beginning of the first sentence. ”

“Sounds like a rumor. ”

He read a sentence that still did not conceal the rough temperament. A novel was published in the world that was covert by the cult, and he opened up his prime again. It was a full-length novel he'd written in five years. Readers were enthusiastic: content and quality to meet their expectations. What he said in the letter was simple. It is a message that urges you to be insensitive. I told the raven who was asking about the content.

“If you don't do it right, you'll come and swing your fist. ”

“Watch your nose, sir. ”

I don't know when I'll come back again. He nods quietly. You squat down and warn him, looking inside the box.

“By the way, why don't you just stop coming in because the door's open? ”

“Come on. You're the one who left it open. I've been doing errands. Please look at me. With my writing. ”

“I don't like doing things I'm not told to do. ”

"I'll be a quick apprentice. ”

“I don't need a guy who doesn't listen. ”

This is a conversation that has been repeated many times already. He doesn't tire of sticking around and bothering. It's as rare as what you do. But he doesn't throw them out because he helps write in his own way. Looking at him, who is the opposite of himself, reminds me of the past more clearly. When I was young, I was alive and well. Crows are fast animals. He certainly knows he will not be thrown out.

“Director Zahra sent this. ”

“What is this? ”

He handed over what was in the box. When I opened the paper bag, there was a book.

“Autobiography?”

It's an autobiography written by grownups. I've never heard of this. I looked at the content, including childhood stories, moments I had in a director's dream, turning points in my life, failure stories, fairytales, movie stories, secrets of work, values, actors' stories, interviews, dreams or goals. He burst into laughter.

“A maestro's life. That's a bold title. ”

There was a famous testimonial on the back, and surprisingly, there was also the name of the coin. The stupidest autobiography of my life. Worst sentences for sleeping. It resembles Zahra herself.

“This is not testimony. ”

“Cool? Can I read it? ”

It was in English. He handed the book to him. Crows are also smart animals.

“May I borrow this book? ”

By the time he finished eating, he reached out his head from the library and asked. He cleared the table without looking at the book in his hand.

“I told you before. You can just take it. ”

“How so? It's your study.”

When you're threatening with a knife. He expressed his tremendous respect for the space called his library. I glanced at the dirty place and turned my gaze away.

“It's a book of coins. ”

“Yes, it was a contest between me and my teacher for an award. That one.”

He points to the trophy with his fingertips. What he chose was an article about the first murder. It's a manuscript.

“I've never seen the first edition. ”

He said in a very excited voice.

“I like that there are many books and books that are hard to find in your study. There is no treasure vault. ”

“The ones on the inside are the ones I used to refer to when I was working, so you can read them if you're interested. ”

“Did those boxes do that? ”

“The boxes in that room. ”

“You're too modest to manage. ”

He said it would be quite expensive if you sold it somewhere. He did not even pretend to have heard.

“When do you want to clean up? I want to help. ”

“So far, so good. ”

I wasn't interested. I have work to do now. He checked the time.

“Make yourself at home. ”

“Yes. I'll be quiet. ”

“Take this for me when I call. ”

“Of course.”

He walked quickly into the workshop. I am nervous while writing. I took a deep breath and picked up a pen. The old notebook has a failure. The protagonist in the story will suffer the same. I know that pain and despair better than anyone. I could think of the main character's heart without having to feel his eyes.

The hand moves quickly. I didn't hesitate. Even if I don't think about it, my hands draw a narrative. The body changes, the child's hand and the adult's hand are different. They move on their own. He fights with his realm without ever interfering. There are times when you don't know who's writing what. Enlightenment came close and quickly drifted away. I swallowed a dry saliva.

I felt a fine ridge behind my back. A familiar gaze. Here comes the crow. Surveillance through the breach. I always do that when I'm working. You move your hands faster. There are many scenes that I want to use. Describing his inner self made him emotional. His tragedy was mine. The more I write about his life, the more I know. I've been taking one step towards the truth that I've been trying to get away from. I didn't like it. I was only miserable.

I want to drink alcohol. I want a cigarette. I want to bet money. Imagine the night beyond the window. I doubt it's alive. I'm getting closer to myself at the time. The urge to kill is revived. Over time, the more I finished writing, the more urgent my mind became. Winter is coming. The rainy moon died on a snowy day. He fell down.

“What the hell.”

I stopped my hand from rattling. The crow makes a sound.

“· · · · · · · Sorry. ”

The voice is bewildered. He asked boldly.

“What's going on? ”

“No, it's not. I leaned forward without even knowing it. ”

“I thought you said you'd be quiet. ”

“I'm sorry."

He put down the pen. I can see his body hardening.

“I'm sorry."

The crow apologizes. He rubs his mouth without saying anything. His apology bothers me. I don't know why.

“You were a crow. ”

“Yes, it's a nickname. ”

“You told me you like birds. ”

“Yes, I did. ”

“I never said that. ”

You hear a raven breathing. His chest swells with tension.

“Can you choose what you hate most in the world? ”

“· · · · · · It was my skin. ”

“I'm a crow. ”

You roll over. The chair squeaks.

“May I ask why? ”

“No. ”

He got up from his seat. I took out the wallet that was in my pocket. A raggedy leather.It's been a long time since I discarded it.

“May I ask for an errand? ”

“· · · · · · · Yes. ”

“Don't come in for another six hours. If you don't like it, you can go home and get your stuff. ”

He left without a word. The sound of closing the door was very small. I sat down and picked up the pen again. After that, I was able to write without being disturbed. However, there was no progress. I wrote it, but don't like it. I felt overwhelmed by the thought of wasting my time. The sun was setting.

“Can I eat something? ”

I caught something on my feet to get out of the workshop. Your socks get wet wet with a sharp sound. There was simple food with water and dishes. There was only one person who could do this. I lift up the rolling glass and sigh a little.

“You mean you'll come tomorrow. ”

The food is cold. You chew through your mouth a batch of food. I quickly swallowed and sat back down. The thought of not accepting it completely but not handing it over to others dominated my body. I will complete it before I die. The crisis quickly passed and peaked.

There is a Great Novel here (1) The End

lim Han-baek