Great Novelist

He tried to think rationally. I had to try harder than usual. I looked up at the picture above my head and lowered my head.

“Whew.”

I exhaled briefly. You are fighting the noise alone in a quiet room. Thunder and water fill up. I couldn't help but notice Hyundai's writing. There's a crow hiding in there.

The speaker fights the crow. He fights. He believes. If you drive out the crows, there will be peace of life. For him, the crow was the evildoer of the whole world.

He was thinking about the end of the crows. I was wandering around trying to figure out whose hand to raise. Now I have a feeling what to write. The batsman is clutched with his hands. The writing gets done quickly. The emotion that was accumulated in the body is released through the hands. digested.

The crow dies. He beats the crow. At that moment, I realized. What he really wanted was the death of the crow. It was too late for me to ask.

“Dead things never come back. ”

The dead never come back. It's the truth. It's the law. Justice and justice were the first premises for peace. I took a short breath. I'm getting excited. My heart is racing. I bit my lip. I'd like to move on to writing as soon as possible about what's going on inside my body. The typewriter grows louder. At the end of the day, I threw it away completely.

“Finish it first. ”

I leaned against the backrest. He was soaked in writing, checking his time and hurrying to get up. It was already past lunch. This would have been fine if it were your home, but this is the current workshop. As I went downstairs, I found myself drinking tea. There were traces of food on the dimly visible dining table. He rubbed his back and greeted.

“Good night. ”

“You're late.”

I smiled awkwardly. I asked him with a look on my face that he didn't care.

“Do you usually write like that? ”

Maybe he was in the room.

“What would that be? ”

“Impulsively. ”

I rolled my eyes. I finally lost my heart a little while ago.

“If it were me, I'd be exhausted soon. ”

“No way.”

“That's what a racket is. I can't control it. ”

“There's no such thing as a rush. ”

“Bring me the manuscript. ”

He paused.

“Looks like the storm is right. ”

“Don't you?”

He shuts up and turns away. I climbed up the stairs halfway, pushed myself out and asked.

“But when did you get here? ”

Hyundai tapped his shoulder lightly. Looks like they came to call me after dinner. He came down with his laptop quietly. Hyundai told me to drink tea while reading. He focused on him as he was raising the water. Hyundai read every single one of his sentences carefully. I don't know what to do at the same time as my heart. There is no zero tolerance at this moment.

“You've got it all worked out.”

“Yes?”

“I feel overwhelmed. ”

He rubs his eyebrows. Hyundai shuts up for a moment, then says.

“Are you a protagonist? ”

I didn't get a good answer. I nodded slightly and replied.

“I'm not that violent. ”

“Are you a crow, then? ”

“Not mean. ”

Hyundai smiled a little. He realized that he was lying.

“I think he and the crow came from the same root. Am I wrong?”

Otherwise, you can't stab the whole grain like this. He admitted it while swallowing sighs.

“Yes.”

“There are some things that people don't want to accept. ”

His eyes slowly pass over the sentence. His hands move. Looking at the end of a novel.

“Dead things don't come back. ”

“Maybe he's a fool. ”

“I don't think you're doing very well. ”

“You became a hero in the village. By getting rid of the troublesome crows. ”

“That's right. ”

Hyundai said, putting down his laptop.

“I don't know what it means for you to suffer like this. ”

But he also hated crows. As he pointed out, Hyundai swept his hair.

“That's why this story is interesting. ”

I was speechless for a moment when I didn't think of it. My jaw twitches.

“You read it well. ”

Hyundai slowly got up from his seat. He asked reflexively.

“Going to work? ”

“Yes.”

He said boldly. You don't have to write at night anymore. He followed behind the prefecture entering the workshop.

“Do you have something to say? ”

He was slightly preoccupied. Hyundai raised one eyebrow and waited for the horse. I took a deep breath.

“I'd like to read it. ”

“What.”

I found out about Hyundai. He made it clear.

“Your manuscript. ”

“It's not finished yet. ”

“Yes, I want to read it. ”

Hyundai smiled a little.

“Good.”

Surprisingly, I was pleasantly granted permission. I was embarrassed and asked.

“Can I really read it? ”

“What did you ask for? ”

“No, I didn't expect you to do this. ”

“Read what you want to read. That way you don't sneak in and peek. ”

Stabbed. He hands over the manuscript. You take it with caution. The manuscript is warm. The handwritten letters are neat and applied. He swallowed a dry saliva and read the sentence.

“There is.”

I muttered without knowing. I could feel his gaze. There was a book here I had seen in the past. This story is still incomplete, but I've definitely seen it then. The lost teacher and the wandering of the remaining disciples. The question of why people cannot be born together, cannot live together, and cannot die together is evenly melted.

“I wanted to hear every word he said. ”

An ambassador for a disciple, he asked.

“The disciple listens to his teacher's will. ”

“I feel sorry for you if you're being so harsh while you're playing a disciple. ”

Hyundai expressionlessly said.

“But I want to fix it. ”

He blinked.

“Why?”

“Thanks to your writing, I found something missing. ”

Insufficient. You can't see it in your own eyes. Hyundai took the manuscript before he could say anything. Draw a line on the scene. I'm so sick of bones.

“Deleted.”

Hyundai said peacefully. The disciple did not listen to the teacher's will. The dead do not return. Nothing will happen again.

“Don't let your emotions get in the way. ”

Hyundai insisted. His hair looks a little whiter. He sits at the window. He can't stop talking.

“Have you heard the last words of the writer Kang Wool? ”

“You've been asking a lot of questions about the rainy season since last time? ”

“I'm a respected writer. ”

“Most of the time. ”

Hyundai took the manuscript back.

“I heard.”

He was confident there. Who are the disciples? Who are the teachers? When he opened his mouth, Hyundai said first.

“I won't tell you. ”

His eyes sank silently. A gaze that claims ownership. He retreated without a word. I could be sure. In the future, if you read his work, you will meet him. I decided to wait quietly.

“The sky is still cloudy today. ”

He went down later than usual. Hyundai was already in the workshop. The door is halfway open. He straightens his waist. His hand goes on and on without stopping. He watched without a sound. How do you write? You can't see yourself with your own eyes. Even if you bring a mirror, eventually the eyes wander over the sentence. Do you hold a pen with such pure passion? I wish. I wish I could be a writer, like a part of myself, like a piece of everyday life. There is no greed on his back. I don't have any complaints.I want to write like that.

“Are you here to read again? ”

Suddenly, Hyundai turns his head to look at himself.

“Yes, show me. ”

He did not speculate. When he finished his first draft, it was two months later.

“There are plenty of useful books. ”

He put back the book he had chosen in the library. He collects books without regard to the genre. Choosing was fun. He slowly examined the list of books. I felt that my skin was well stored. I imagined the footsteps he would have taken to buy this book one by one.

“You said you kept some old data inside. ”

I wonder what's the longest book I've kept. The number of books on the outside was great, so it took me a while to get inside. I opened the door and went in. I felt cool. There are many scary books.

“It smells different. ”

It doesn't smell like a book in the library. I lowered myself in front of the bookshelf.

“This is a first edition. ”

I took out a book with a careful hand. This is the first edition of a novel that is still being printed. Unlike the books he had read, there were no covers, no translations, no publishers, no papers. When I turned over the page, the changed reference words were now noticeable. The character's tone is dull enough to make a laugh. I was slightly enjoying watching the actor's clumsy acting. Someday, even the most praised translation of Seogwang will get old. So is his translation. The book is not alive. So it can't be changed.

“It will continue to be revised. ”

Second of all, whether it's intentional or not. He glances at the book for a moment and sticks it in place.

“Hmm?"

I found a familiar name on the bookshelf next to it. Whitepaper. It's her book.

“This is also a first edition. You have three volumes. ”

It's her debut. It's now gone, but it was a contest that was the gateway to the paragraphs back then. She got the target. The first page of the book contains a review. He enjoyed reading it.

“The appearance of a newcomer is rare. I could feel strong in a solid frame. I hope that you will continue to write like this. A newcomer who is sad but excited to be standing in the story. Stubborn, thorny text. That's why I liked it.”

It was a good speaker to write a local and comfortable story. She had this moment, too. I couldn't recall the current speech at all. Books are organized in order. I was looking at fragments that I did not know, and there was something at the end of it.

“Is that a book?”

Something was off. No title, no writing. It didn't seem like it was officially published. It was more like a paper book I made at school. I opened it slightly. I saw the sentence.

“A novel.”

There was a protagonist. He followed the author's instructions and drew what he looked like. I felt like I resembled someone. The hand of the intestine stops. This style is familiar.

“Is this... ”

I raised my head. I can see the name Kang Wol. It was the book of the river that occupied next to the book of the book of the book of books. I feel my strength in my hands. This is the style of the river. He read every publication of the Crescent Moon. It wasn't that hard. He died without leaving much behind.

“I've never read anything like this. ”

The Moon Is Not in Your Hands (1) End

lim Han-baek