Great Novelist

“Here, take this and put it into words. ”

Moon put all kinds of food on his desk and told jewelry. The seniors who already knew what training it was with experience surrounded it with a happy look.

Apples, confectionery, paprikas, salt, sugar, macarons, dried squid, squid, zucchini, egg yolks, cinnamon, cola, green tea, red ginseng, green grapefruit candy.

“Yummy!”

“You have nothing to eat. ”

Moon stopped them. The children, of course, rebelled.

“Aigoo, there are so many of them! ”

“Yes, just give us a little. I've been struggling to find some junk lately. It's been a long time since I've trained. ”

Seonhwa and Seogwang raised their hands and shouted. Teacher Moon looked at the annoying disciples and said.

“If you eat all the gems instead. ”

“Yay!”

“And since you said training, you should write one by one. ”

“Of course!”

The children are excited, and they put pressure on the jewels. Those seniors didn't care about what to eat first. Seonhwa said.

“Let's eat a squirrel. ”

“No. Red ginseng it is. ”

“What red ginseng, let's drink from Sikhee's neck. ”

“I want an apple. ”

The jewel chose one while listening for suggestions or wishful thinking. It was salt.

“Of all this? ”

“He's a little weird, too. ”

Seonhwa muttered. However, it is quite a wise choice for Australia. Simple flavors like salt are easy to express in words. The jewels were taken to their mouths with their little fingers, dipping a little salt into their mouths.

“Salt.”

It's simple, but it's a definite word for salt. Moon later explained the rule to say three times. The jewel takes the salt back with a serious look.

“It's just salty. ”

“Feel more. ”

“Well, it's a little light. ”

“Again?"

With Moon's haste, she closed her eyes and focused on the taste in her mouth.

“It's stimulating.”

“Next, then. ”

She chose the dry squid. I tore off one leg and chewed it.

“Tough, a little dirty, a little salty. No duplicates? ”

“Yes.”

“Then it's good money. ”

“Pass.”

She tastes them one by one. Seeing his successor, they were tasting again. The jewels made it through, but the last of the blue-grape flavored candy was blocked.

“It tastes great, it tastes great, it tastes great. ”

“Squeeze it out. ”

The gem rolls its candy around and rolls its eyes together.

“Hard.”

“I've done it before. ”

“Hard.”

Her cheeks turn to candy.

“It tastes like blue grapes. ”

“One last thing. ”

Spring empowers both fists and supports her. Jewelry was tied to the word "blue-grape candy" and could not think of a variety of words. The only thing that tastes blue is the candy. Moreover, I was running out of vocabulary expressing the flavour with the words that came out earlier.

“Come on.”

What she needed to know was that this is not a tasting exercise. Teacher Moon's training is to eat and express. Expression is not restricted. Even if it says it tastes like blue grapes on the packaging, if it feels like it tastes like sardines, it becomes sardine-flavored sweets. Blue grape claims

It was possible to completely ignore it. It didn't matter what other people's tongues felt. It is the self that accepts and expresses it.

Of course, if you don't give your reasons in literature, you will be turned away and recommended by others, but it is okay now.

“Fruity. ”

I haven't noticed the jewels yet. Teacher Moon thought about it for a while, but he decided that he was good at this in his first training and passed. From word to sentence, sentence to sentence, and word to word, she will grow.

“Can I eat now? ”

Baron asks. He already has a squeeze in his hand. Moon said, tearing the body of the squid.

“Yes. Leave my share. ”

“Let's eat!”

The doorman started the party not in time. He slashed his mouth with a red apple and wondered if it might be a hint to the next article. I wrote habitually. I think it will be so-so.

The novel by the author of faith, The 7 volumes of the Bronze Professor's series.

A controversial coincidence. I finally show myself.

Shock from Fragment. Any clues to coincidence?

Coincidence spoken by a believer.

Coincidence in the river. Curiosity erupts. What kind of writer is he?

This is the book that says it's a coincidence.

I read it to see it and bought a full series of copies. It's so funny.

Professor Dong's series is popular in Japan. Faith was originally a famous writer. Everyone knows how to read an abstract novel.

Thank goodness for that. I spilled it on purpose.

When did it become clear that it was because of the journalist?

But is it really a coincidence coming out of here?

A slight deformation. It's fiction.

He's a terrible character. I was worse than Professor Dong.

I'm sure it's the same with money. Millions of wives sold books.

Wouldn't the writer of faith be quite familiar with coincidence? You paid for the same club writer and literary enthusiast.

I heard that I also did my own coverage. Then you must be pretty close. Maybe he has the same personality as his character.

b. Accidents were the most noticeable at the end and the beginning.

Where are you going with this?

I saw a video of Pyeongjin's critic interpreting the river, and the experts were surprised. It is regarded as the most coincidental writing.

I'm happy because I'm a writer by chance.

It was very different from the writer. It feels like ideals and reality. If the mathematician wrote in a ambiguous and dreamy atmosphere, the writer accidentally wrote down death with certainty and reality. The amazing thing about this place is that it happened to be 18 years old.

What kind of coincidence is that? Aliens.

You don't even ask the writers of the fucking club. As most of you know. Because the director of the show fascinated me with strange things.

Do you really think this is you? He sat on the subway and read the book of faith. The coincidence in the book was as unfortunate as she had predicted. First of all, I'm rich. I have a lot of money. I live in a spacious and good house. But there are a lot of people who think they're rich by accident.

Iran. It's like pouring oil on a blazing fire.

Moreover, he has never written until the end. All stories are cut off in the middle. Patience was not the same as patience. Then I introduce myself as a writer.

He gave up the intestines. There, Professor Dong asks. You're not qualified. He replies, "I will write until I die." It doesn't matter what kind or length it is. What would you call me if I wasn't a writer? Professor Dong replies. Useless human.

As she said at the book concert, his room was filled with plaintiffs. The portrayal that the walls on all sides are not hidden from the manuscript clearly resembles his room.

“The next station is · · · · · · · · · ·. ”

He took his eyes off the book and checked the arrival station. I had to get off. I got up and put the book in my bag. If you go out to the exit and go up the alley through the familiar road, the studio, school, and home of the teacher will be revealed.

Streetside streets and other landscapes evoke the illusion of coming from the countryside. The dog barks. It means we're almost there. Finally, as you climb up the slope, a group descends from above. It's the only building in the theater where people come to take classes.

will go in.

In the narrow alleyway, he cleared the way to the side. Twelve of them. The woman in front hurries down the road with a small greeting. The face of walking down the street while talking to each other was bright. I counted them quietly, and he urged me to walk.

“Hello."

There was no need to go inside, so I could see the textbook in the courtyard where the usual and garden coexisted. The speaker waved.

“You're in uniform today? ”

“Yes, I'm on my way from school. ”

It was often a matter of her inviting herself to dinner. I also had some expectations that if I came here, I might be able to come up with a topic about the next article that I have not yet sensed.

Unlike usual, he asked, looking at the things in front of the booklet.

“What's that paint and toilet paper? ”

She sits in front of Izel. I thought art had a hobby, but the speaker said it was a class material.

“I painted in class today. This is mine. ”

In the painting she showed me, there was a big moon floating.

“What a strange moon. ”

He said he saw an honest look. The moon that was floating in the sky was deformed.

“I have a strange feeling about this. It's artistic.”

“Right? You know something. ”

By the way, painting is unusual in writing classes. I was Moon's teacher. Junsu, who came out at that time, became popular.

“Oh, you're in uniform. ”

Compliance looked at the uniform with a fresh eye. He repeated what he had said to the speaker. I came straight from school.

“Junsu, have you painted? ”

“Yeah, a long time ago. ”

He looked at the picture and asked.

“Does it help you write? ”

“In some ways. ”

Adherence helped. The speaker explained.

“Painting and writing have something in common. Look at things and draw the inside. It's common in oriental paintings. It wasn't that our ancestors didn't write masterstrokes on the paintings, nor that they didn't discover the existence of masterstrokes. Great that does not change its appearance by light.

To express one's spirit in painting. ”

Changed by the light. When the sun rises high, the shadow becomes shorter. The sunset waters the earth red and the darkness takes its shape. I was impressed by the Westernization where one subject expressed differently over time. The same thing I saw in the same place was just light.

This is how it's gonna change. At the same time, I thought of a few orientation points in my head. There was no intensity, especially the portrait. The noble spirit that will never change is because when the sun rises and sets, it will not be affected.

Expressing what was invisible was like writing or drawing.

“Sometimes when you hold a brush instead of a pen, you get a new irritation by being more clear about what you're doing. It's okay to take a breather. ”

It's a curious way. It would be interesting too. I remembered the faces of the trainees in the alleyway.

“Do you want to try it? ”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Lots of paper. ”

She stepped aside and said. Where she was, there was a palette and a solid paint, a brush, and a bucket of water. A white chapter 8 painting in plain sight was handed over by a quick observer.

“Give me the bag. ”

I didn't answer yet, but my work was done in full swing. The breaths of teachers and students were breathtaking. I sat down quietly because I had no reason to refuse. You placed the paper on top of the black iron aluminum diesel in front of you.

“What am I doing here? ”

“Draw. Anything. Like writing. ”

Like writing. Observes and accepts the inner parts of things and presents them in their own way. I used to make sentences out of letters, but now I had to paint with paint. Different but similar senses Instead of the white paper facing the computer screen and the keyboard,

I'm holding a pallet.

I thought for a moment, what should I draw? Around it were grass and trees, houses and people. There was nothing I wanted to express in the place where the eyes could reach. I felt overwhelmed for a long time.

“Hmm."

He remembered when he was writing. Do not hold your hands. I had to write something first. I picked up the brush and buried the paint. A blue line climbs down the middle.

What's this?

How it Works (1) End

lim Han-baek