Great Novelist

“Sounds great. ”

Standing in front of the stage, the staff said small. Everyone who was in charge of the stage was looking at the audience. In the audience, people who knew there would be coincidences were waiting for their appearance. From now on, we have to go in there. I have to write.

Nam-Kyung said, don't fix it. If you're afraid of failure, don't fix it. I fear failure. I'm afraid that cheer will turn into silence. But I want to write a story. I thought of the manuscript. It sends a signal from my mind. I have a better article. I have a message for you.

Write it. I'll forget it. Nothing changes onstage. I only think about writing when I write. I'll forget all about the battle, the nervousness, and the fact that my writing is being revealed. Someone knocks you on the back. A penis. There are staff looking at you. It was a sign that it was time to get up on stage.

“I'll be back.”

“Yes."

You move your feet. The first thing you see when you get onstage is light. The light brightened my eyes. I empowered my eyes. I saw the faces of the audience. Expectations, expectations, expectations.

“Hello, I'm a writer by accident. Nice to meet you.”

It was as if I was leaving. It is greater than the cheer that the scroll received. I remembered the writers who passed through here. I can see why you were shaking, communicating, and talking about yourself. I was silent when I mowed down.

“Today's article is not written in any of the published books. ”

They smile, rejoicing. I sprinkled cold water on it.

“But I couldn't complete it. ”

People's unified reactions were broken. The landscape changed. The atmosphere changed. Embarrassment, doubts, and still expectations.

“I've had to retire again recently. Yesterday, so I couldn't write it all down. I was greedy. ”

Someone exhales like a habit, and someone sighs.

“But can I do that? because this is a stage showing the writer's writing. ”

I heard an intermittent answer. They slowly understood. Coincidence tries to write on stage. I try to write immediately. You fix the microphone with your other hand.

“You can enjoy it as it is. I don't know what the story is going to be, but I'm going to try my best. ”

I turned around and added one more word before I sat at my desk.

“If you don't like the content, you can think like this. Coincidence failed this time. because I'm going to revise the content again. ”

I handed the microphone over to an employee. He received a microphone with a joyful look. There is someone who wants to see the crash. There are those who wish to be destroyed. I took a deep breath. I could see very well from far away.

“I feel good today. ”

I move slowly. I read the manuscript first. The screen was blank while reviewing the manuscript. I didn't care. The protagonist of the previous post is a figure with a grey hat motif. He takes his last chance and starts his life as a writer. The story to be presented was completely opposite.

Coincidence is already a writer. I let it go. I put my hands on the keyboard. I wrote the name of the protagonist.

“Coincidence?”

It's an instant reaction. I heard a sound in the audience. The sentence is written down. Coincidence triumphs. Recognized for their skills.It sells a lot. He leaves three novels in total. The title of the debut was mango. The next novel was called Brushes, and the last novel was called Grey. These are great novels left by chance.

When I wrote down the famous scene, the playground was quiet. I delightfully portrayed the life that I enjoyed. I felt the sentence flowing smoothly. It was not difficult to follow the line that I had painted in my head. Sometimes I heard laughter. Everyone is enjoying themselves.

“Write slowly. ”

I heard something disturbing my writing from afar. I stopped my hand and raised my head, and the auditorium was moving. It was the shouting of an audience. In the previous stage, no one had ever screamed. Unlike young writers I had never seen, young genius writers were friendly. I robbed my hands in the air for no reason. He answered, powering up his ship because he didn't have a microphone.

“Was I fast? ”

Yes, the little answer is back.

“I don't usually try to take it slow. I'll try, but I don't think I can control it. But it's okay, right? ”

I heard a bigger answer. They also knew the purpose of the event. I looked down. I took a deep breath. I focused on writing again. It was not difficult. It was already a trained situation. The text flowed faster than before. At last, the moment when coincidence falls to hell. I think of those who wished for their downfall. The story you want is right here.

“That far?”

A quiet bowel flutter erupted. I heard the audience. Disappeared without retaining form. There are no spectators, no battles, no failures here. The protagonist is pushed. The situation has changed. The happy days are over. He becomes arrogant. Ignores his surroundings and stops trying. I don't know what I am.

He became known as the perpetrator, the fearful one, the old one, and the garbage. After a little more time, he was not even called. Everyone no longer ignored the coincidence and cared about him and tried for him. Seeing him take back the wrongs of the past made me happy.

Changed the line. Changed the scene. I started talking about the work. Unlike coincidence, the three works are still popular. They kept printing. You don't seem to know the end. You don't seem to know death. I'm applauded. I'm applauded. The three books were the best in the novel. A foolish coincidence is strongly jealous of the three works. Coincidence fell easily, like over-ripened fruit.

“It stopped.”

Someone says, the story of the relentless march stops. I took my hand off and covered my mouth. Coincidence and the great novel were completely separated. Coincidence was not a great novelist. But he left a great novel. Writers face a livelihood crisis and works face an award-winning crisis. A prize for tradition and honor. People wondered about the results.

I raise my head. I don't lean against the faces of the audience. Excited. They're excited. The hat caught my eye. It wasn't gray. The situation passed me by. The gray hat asked. I can win a prize. He had to answer. He organized the sentences one by one. You can get it someday. You can do it. You're not done yet. can do more. It can be better than it is now. The day will come. Someday you will.

I moved my hand and wrote it down. The audience inclined their heads to the unhurried sentence. The stall grows noisy. Only the gray hat thinks. The sound gradually fades away. You feel disappointed. The gray hat leaves behind tired horses. The sentences were left as someone else's words without comfort. Coincidence is you don't know the grey hat. I didn't understand the heart of the grey hat. Praise is not what he wanted to hear. This is not the answer I wanted to be positive about the future. The gray hat said it was the last. He was already on his mind. I accepted that it was the last. I erased the sentence I had left out at once.

“You can't ride. ”

The grey hat was chosen. I was worried that I had made a choice that I shouldn't have made.

“Yes, you can. ”

You don't have to feel guilty. Waste not. Waste not. That's what they'll say then. A little regret comes from your fingertips. My hands were a little faster. I felt a much blurrier sentence than before. It doesn't stop. I can see the story. The end I wanted has come. I felt good.

“I'm hungry.”

I leaned against the backrest with a small murmur. I have identified the completed manuscript. At that moment, the sound rang. The stage is over. Get up and go to the center of the stage. The audience was silent. I reached out to the staff who stared at me dazed. He handed me the microphone.

“Thank you."

I left a note and went downstairs. Until then, the audience was still unable to take their eyes off the screen.

*

“I've decided.”

The master suite grabbed his trembling hand with excitement. This is what it means to see accidental writing. I couldn't take my eyes off it the whole time. Coincidentally, he detonates the bomb as soon as he gets onstage. Script updated abruptly, incomplete. The coincidence of using it onstage was a surprise in itself. Your skills may be compromised. It's a dangerous gamble. That's what I thought before the story hit the halfway mark. I couldn't understand the inscription.

“Why are coincidences so good at writing failure stories? ”

Why do writers accidentally express such emotions when they only succeed? What do you know about accidents? What do you know how to write such a sentence?

“And that ending. ”

It was a bold style. It was clean and neat. However, after stopping my hand once, it completely changed. The sentence was rough and confusing. But I had to keep reading. There were emotions exposed. The emotions in the sentences disturb me. I've never seen such a coincidence. I felt that he was writing on the spot.

I was nervous. I liked the fact that I didn't know what the author was going to say. may fail. It can be like a coincidence in a novel. The place where he stood felt threatened for the first time. But the coincidence was a success.

“Damn it.”

I heard insults next to me. I could tell without turning my head. He wanted to embarrass himself by coincidence. Coincidence fails to be a knight. Irritating. He presses the elongated shutter with a excited look just when he accidentally steps onstage and throws the dice.

“How nervous I must be. ”

That's what he said. He pointed to the publisher's president and executives who were there to see the successful conclusion of a large event, and looked at the audience as exciting as he had ever been.

“Make me an interesting picture. ”

As he wished, coincidentally, he made several interesting paintings. Thanks to this, the reporters who posted photos and articles in real time fell in love. Everyone was busy sharing excitement about writing. It was like an audience pouring out of a movie theater.

“Hahaha.”

Seeing his furious expression, she raised her voice and laughed as well. After a long time of leaving behind a single word of gratitude, the voices of the audience slowly called out. I realized then that no author has ever allowed an audience to discuss the work. Immediately after the stage was over, the writer cheered and applauded him. I was amazed at the writer who wrote a good quality article safely. It's a pleasure to write something unusual. But instead of accidentally disappearing, the articles were getting readers' feelings. Coincidence was the last order. But it felt so fresh. The first scenes on his stage were endless.

“Coincidence.”

The inscription closed its eyes and enjoyed the evening.

Winner's Brawl (9) Ends

lim Han-baek