Great Novelist

Full Plate (2)

It's not that I wasn't afraid.

“Of course I'm burdened. I'm the youngest literary genius in the world. ”

It's not that I wasn't nervous.

“So I wanted to curl up and enjoy it as long as I could. I noticed the materials I wanted to use. ”

And yet, he was looking for it.

He was craving for it again, possibly failing, and possibly falling. So I could find it, so I could meet it.

“What should I do? Write what you want." ”

He smiled and said.

“I was desperate not to think of any distractions. ”

Failure, success, results. The unchanging future and the grudge of readers. I tried not to think about all the things that made me dizzy and stop my hands.

So I could write.

“It's also my specialty to push back. ”

Thirty years were days of running away. I ran from a failed past, a successful past, a fear of challenges, a desire for writing, all of it.

I didn't think of failing. I did not crave success. Not anxious, not in a hurry. I just wrote.

I only confronted the manuscript.

“I don't know what the next one will bring, but it's done, so I can't help it. ”

Life that was full of failures is not very helpful. I thought about it, and he smiled a little.

“Hey, you heard the teacher. ”

“You heard him.”

“How old are you? ”

“I'm 17.”

“Hey, hey. ”

Crew was amazed. It was an unimaginable thing for him to say when he was shy in nature.

The speaker smiled quietly. And I said,

“I look forward to it.”

“Yes.”

He replied confidently.

I went inside the speaker's house. What was different from a typical home was that there was a space to conduct the class. A classroom-like landscape was unfolding in the house. Low desk with cushions. On the floor, there is an etched wooden pattern. On the wall were the texts of the students and a portable white board in front of them.

While looking inside, the speaker asked.

“What do you think? Nice place, huh? ”

“Yes.”

A place where people who dream of writing study. It was such an impressive space. The owner and teacher of the space, the white paper, put out the wrinkles of the eye area.

“This is my spot. This is where my great debut was born. It's no coincidence I'm talking to a writer. ”

Keung said, sitting in the second row behind him. I wanted to say it proudly, but my voice quickly decreased.

He smiled and said.

“Are you talking about the manuscript that embroidered the sky? ”

“I shouldn't have said that again. Let's not talk about that. I was very angry with the teacher. ”

As he spoke nicely, the speaker behind him opened his mouth.

“It's the writer's freedom to fix and throw away his manuscript. But with that in mind, you can't give in to that attitude. It's not abandoning the manuscript, it's hurting yourself. ”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

It was a light tone, but it had bones in it. She was a stricter teacher than I thought.

That day, he tried to give up his path as a writer. I didn't like what I wrote because I didn't think I could write it. Deep down, there was a lack of courage. Continuous failure shatters him.

What he really wanted to discard was not the manuscript but himself.

She's talking. Don't give up.

Looking at the roots of a serious answer, the speaker said lightly.

“Then you are a very unusual couple. ”

“Yes?”

“The musical performance has not changed to the performance. ”

“That's right, Master. I don't know if it's illness or medicine. ”

It was not my intention, but there was a coincidence next to the failure and success of the workforce.

“What have I done?" You're the one who wrote it well. ”

“That's right. I wrote the fallen one. But I come to play a lot. Let's cheer you up. ”

A strange hand gesture of muscle sucks him out. He calmly takes a step back and keeps his distance from him.

“We should go to dinner. I'll bring some rice in advance. ”

The speaker said.

She was the one who bit her favorite food. Seeing the speech coming out, he slowly moved and sat across from him.

Crew said it was disgusting.

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“That day. You found my manuscript. ”

“I remember hearing greetings that day. ”

“There were no accidental writers there. ”

He quietly asked.

“Did you miss anything? ”

“Not a few of them. So I reread it and rewrote it. ”

That was the end of the story about that day. Neither Workers nor Australia lasted long. That was enough.

There was Junsu who was on the phone outside. Before he put the phone in his pocket, he flicked his finger three times. He looks at the gesture of his hand and looks up at his voice.

“Did you get the speech? ”

“Yes. I don't sell my novels. ”

I sat next to the rookie. Sitting around the desk in the middle, it looked like a discussion.

He said with a disgruntled expression.

“That's weird. Why don't people read your work? ”

“I see.”

They didn't have anything to say when they asked him. Junsu stroked the shoulder of his muscles three times, smiling softly.

He looked at the shoulders of his peers and thought about Junsu's works. His writings were more focused on works of art than on popularity.

There are good works besides bestsellers. There are many, but not all can make a name for themselves. Accessibility was an important issue in the publishing industry. The reality was that it was hard to get people's eyes without something to talk about.

He looked at the roots. His debut was popular. Hwaseong was in the cruelty of his work.

In modern times, the Humans forget their fear of being eaten. But it wasn't far. In fact, we know the horror of survival, even without chewing the flesh and stripping the bones.

The roots pierced my feelings for it. It was something people would be interested in. The publisher he worked hard for was also excited about his success and promoting a lot of money.

He turned his head to observe. His story was unfamiliar. His writing was not stimulating.

As readers who have to choose interesting books from the many books left behind in the bookstore, there are no good hands.

However, he read and admired his work. The sentences and vocabulary he wrote were clean, refined and beautiful.

He saw compliance.

Even in parallel, he never gives up on writing. Do not change your own posts. That persistence bears fruit.

He will become a popular writer and many will read his writings and recognize his passion. He secretly smiled.

Junsu's hand was stroking the desk in front of him. It was unconscious. He looked at his hand for a moment and said,

“Three times. ”

“Huh?"

“I've touched it three times before. ”

Cell phone, shoulder, desk. He flicked his finger three times before placing the item, even when sitting on his back and eating the fruit.

I've been caring about it for a while.

“You caught me. ”

“Oops.”

Junsu scratched his back head and smiled shyly. Even with a embarrassed look, his good impression did not go away.

His hands soon fall off the back of his head. I couldn't see it, but it must have bounced three times.

“It's a kind of ritual. ”

Junsu said, "It's an obsession, brother," and he muttered a little bit next to him. Obeying the word, I humbly acknowledged him without bruising him.

“It's a simple obsession in other people's eyes. ”

Obsession for others, consciousness for yourself.

“What ritual? ”

“It brings good luck. ”

Lucky for him, the number three was kind of like a four-leaf clover. Whatever it was, it was an interesting habit.

“I say things with my mouth, but sometimes I get surprising sentences. I feel like I'm lending my body away because something's really pouring in. It's not like I wrote it. It's unsettling. ”

When I read the text, there is a sentence that comes into my heart. Deep stabbing sentence. Such a sentence was in the article of adherence.

If you write such a sentence, you can feel it too. This is good. I like this. Every time, there was an inevitable feeling that followed. Anxiety. Anxiety about whether we can write this sentence next time.

He thought for a moment and asked.

“Why did it lead to touching things three times? ”

She said with a gentle smile that complied with the question.

“My third book became my debut. ”

The answer that came out of his mouth was somewhat empty.

“After that, my writing didn't sell very well. That's why I thought I'd run out of luck on my debut. ”

So he said that he was collecting his luck by touching it three times.

However, he had a peculiar angle.

“Three. My husband used to like it. ”

The speaker sat beside him and said. I felt a faint smell of rice for her. It was a fragrant aroma.

He smelled it and thought, if her husband likes the number three,

“You're Kang, aren't you? ”

She nods quietly. It was the name of her husband, a young, full-blown novelist. His work was steadily loved. Readers' love for the author of Kangwon was intense enough to make a movie out of him.

Of course, he also liked his writings enough to look through all of his books. Fun and unique. I enjoy reading it.

The writer who was so cheerful and fearless died of pulmonary tuberculosis at a young age.

“Yes. He didn't seem to live long. ”

“Teacher, if you say so. ”

She smiled brightly and said. The difficulty was the responsibility of the disciples.

“It's true. The world was the first in my novel. ”

“Are you saying that there is a character that is modeled after Writer Kang? ”

“Really? Who is it? ”

Junsu asked. This is the first I've heard of it. He rolled his head. Who, first in her novel, dies and resembles the author of the river.

He glanced at her quietly and asked.

“Is that horse shit? ”

The speaker looked surprised at his question and said.