Great Novelist

A woman named Butterfly is sharp. Night. Darkness. I painted the whole thing leaving only the end of the piece because I liked it. It was probably the closest thing he had to something he wanted to say.

“It just felt different to being born and being alive. ”

The butterfly listens to him with a serious face.

“I was almost alone in school. It wasn't social, so I had a lot of time to write. ”

I was really alone, so I had a lot of time to write. Thanks to this, I was able to complete a full length novel.

As he laughed, butterflies opened their mouths, saying that they were also alone at times.

“I was a bully at my previous job. Adults get sidetracked. I've heard stories in the bathroom. It was pretty painful. I always think I want to be favored by everyone. Greed. It's impossible. because somewhere in the world, someone must hate me. ”

Everyone has a feeling they don't want to be hated. She has experienced a failure, and she knows how tired it must be.

“But I was also greedy one day. ”

And yet she speaks respectfully. It's a constant challenge. Like you've never been hated. It may be a possible challenge to know that it's not to be liked by everyone. It means that somewhere in the world there's someone who likes her.

I heard the children laughing from a distance.

He was a horse.

“I didn't have a dream then. There was no goal. Time was running out, but I didn't do anything. ”

This was not just the story of the academic era. He was alone when he left the paragraphs, as though he had run away from suspicion. I drank alcohol every day and played poker. I was accustomed to the end of winning and winning. I knew that they were fooling themselves. I also knew that they regarded it as money. But I didn't stop by myself. He was furious that there were moments out of control in his body and mind. I drank alcohol furiously. It was repetition.

He thought, "When I think of those days, I smell a weak corpse." As time went by, he stopped. It was the nearest condition to death. Living Humans don't smell of corpses. The smell of it on your body.

It was death.

“So the characters in the night are not all still alive. Less mature, less alive than a child in its mother's belly. ”

“ · · · · · ·. ”

He knew he was dying even at a young age in the past. It was dark and it was night. morning never comes. At that time, he was looking forward to it.

After listening to him, the butterfly opens its mouth for a moment.

“I see.”

The butterfly said that, and I went to the bathroom with him. He drenched his neck by drinking a mouthful of the drink he had ordered.

“Hah, that's crazy. I love it.”

Meanwhile, the butterfly leaning against the bathroom sink mutters in a suppressed voice.

She wanted to shout to the world if she'd let me. People, look at this. I'm talking to a coincidence writer. He's the youngest and sexiest writer I've ever seen. Come and have a look.

Take a look.

Butterflies shake their bodies with their hands to block their mouths in a voice that seems to protrude quickly. This excitement is unbearable.

“I can't quit this job because of this moment. ”

There are countless interpretations of one work. Even if there are as many readers, it is no exaggeration. There are no right answers. There are various opinions of critics, and if the reader does not understand what the expert has interpreted, that is the end of it. Books were free. They belonged to readers.

And anyone who is fascinated by the book is interested in the author who created it naturally. Among the myriad people on earth, the words of those who love are special. So did the writer. Butterflies decided to go home and read the book again, based on his interpretation.

“Phew, Phew. Let's calm down.”

The above-described face was rubbed by hand. It was like a dream for a horse like that to come out of his mouth at that age. That plump skin, that sophisticated skin. You're too deadly.

“This is a virtue. ”

I liked Moon from childhood. The writer looked cool. Ever since I was a middle school student with the most sensitivity, I have been completely captivated. Lee Jaek-sa, Yoon Dong-joo, Park Tae-jun, Lee Tae-won, Sang-seong, Kim So-wol, Yoo-jeong Kim, etc. When I thought about their work, their life, my heart started beating on its own.

Of course, he didn't tell anyone about this aspect of himself. I only used my nickname on the internet and acted on the blog

“I'm a successful virgin. Oh, I'm happy. ”

The butterfly resolved once again, fixing his makeup with a quick flick of his hand.

“I win exclusively. ”

“Ha.”

The butterfly sighs.

I made that commitment. I broke up without even saying anything. I couldn't think of a time to say it. As this was the second attempt, Paine was running out of time to approach with caution.

Butterflies saw work at the office and returned home to prepare for tomorrow's business trip. After I finished showering, I took out my travel bag and brought some materials to introduce to my clothes and foreign agents.

There was a sample of translations of about 50 pages of synopsis and original novels, and reader reviews.

One of the agents sent me an introductory email beforehand. I sent an email to a few people who are usually interested in Korean literature. I got back to Molly first. I was supposed to see it in the book on my business trip tomorrow, but I promised to bring detailed data.

The reply from him was:

Dear Emily.

I was told that a 16-year-old young writer had made his debut. Honestly, I'm in the middle of a anti-Semitic debate. Writing is slow enough to make a writer blossom. But I can assure you of that. Translation samples, please. I'll see you in the book.

Emily was her English name. Molly's reaction is understandable enough. It was understandable for a 16-year-old in this industry to hear that he was a young writer in his mid-40s.

But butterflies don't worry. Both works and writers were excellent. Molly, a veteran agent with much more experience than herself, will feel it when she reads the article.

It's already drawn in my head. The text handed over to Molly is passed back to the agent in each language. Each publisher will want to see it and publish it in their own company. Offers from overseas will be pouring in now. In many countries, in many publishers. I feel full just imagining it.

“I'll do it. I'll do it. ”

Butterflies lie on their beds.

So I wanted to manage accidental writers more exclusively. To an agent, exclusivity is a kind of vehicle. The blindfold used by racehorses to run straight ahead.

If I work against the US or Europe, it will take me a long time to prepare for entry. In short, I spend a few months and a few years studying and selling my products everywhere to introduce books. In order to run for that long time, I needed the word ‘exclusive'. It was definitely different to just work as an agent and the author's exclusive agent. It is because I am confident that as much as I work hard, it will be completely my own.

Moreover, there must be many agents who covet this book other than themselves. If the book is sold incorrectly while working so hard, all the effort he has made will become obsolete. Going abroad was not an easy task to do while being aware of it.

The butterfly thinks for a moment and reaches out with the phone placed next to his head. Several calls are repeated and then switched to voice. It was a voice that I had just heard.

“Hello?"

“Yes, Writer. That's the white butterfly.”

Yes, and his unique voice answers.

“What did you call about? ”

“Are you free tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something before I go on business. ”

“Well, it's time. ”

The good thing about him being a student was that he had relatively much time. I was going to meet again and talk before going on a business trip. I'm busy now, so I won't have much time to see you in person. Butterflies set an appointment time and ended the call. The time has come to build a wall.

“I really do. ”

The butterfly once again made a commitment.

And when he finished calling, he looked at one of the articles he had written for a long time.

“It felt good. ”

In the meantime, there was a cold manuscript. He lowers his pen and turns on his base. The crowded shoulders complain of pain. Maybe she'll talk about exclusive management tomorrow.

Anyway, he doesn't give up.

He smiled slightly.

Things were definitely changing. He reminded me of the day we first met. when he was really 16.

At that time, it was copyright and I didn't know anything. Of course, Nam-Kyung explained it to me somewhat, but I think the adults will take care of it. "Even at his discretion, he was somewhere behind the scenes.

He had already grown arrogant and did not even think of failing. Well, the actual results were fine.

“This is the third time we've met. ”

This is the third time we've met before she went active as an agent. It didn't take this long before the first meeting, because it allowed the right of exclusivity. She would have learned more about herself and her book than ever before. I don't even know what the consequences of this change will be for him.

Could be worse than before. Not even homeless this time. He cleared his mind. Still, it's much better than living the same life as before. It's a miracle that happened.

When I went to that cafe we talked about yesterday, the butterflies were already here. She finds him and waves her hand for a few moments.

“You're here early. ”

Australia arrived before the appointment time, but she was there first. It seemed like it was not a professional position to keep the customer waiting. The two of them decided to take a walk in the park with each coffee in their hands.