Became an American Retro Novelist - Chapter 160



Only Noblemtl

160.

I recently heard from Julia Chandler of the Los Angeles Times.

[Hello, author. How have you been?]

“Oh my~ Julia! It’s good to hear your voice after so long. I’ve been well. How about you?”

[I’ve been doing well too. I’m just waiting for the author’s new work.]

“Hahaha, I’m also just waiting for news of Julia’s marriage.”

[······.]

“Oh, now that I’m old enough, I should meet a good person and get married. That’s why I keep nagging and nagging. Okay?”

Glenda, who was an ‘old-timer’, used to urge Julia to get married in this way. Julia, who had difficulty revealing to her the truth that she was married to her work, usually passed on her contact with Glenda to other reporters, but that was no longer possible.

Because there was something separate from the newspaper company’s work that Simon had asked me to do.

Inside the office, Julia continued speaking with an awkward smile that was invisible to the other person.

“Oh, by any chance······can I ask you to write a book review?”

[Huh? What kind of book review?]

“The new writer will be releasing a new work soon.”

[Oh my, that’s great. How is the new writer?]

“Yes, this time college······.”

[Oh my! Now that I think about it, you wrote a letter of recommendation for me before! You keep writing like that, and how hard must you have studied to go to college?! I hope my grandchildren are half as good as you! Oh, now that I think about it, my grandchildren······.]

I had a feeling the story would be long.

Since ancient times, older people have been more likely to feel lonely.

***

I was offered a reasonable fee, but I would have done it even without that.

For Glenda Hoffman, a hope for American housewives and a writer widely recognized on both sides of the literary and non-literary divide, the work of “God” had a special meaning because it rekindled her passion and inspiration for writing, which she had half-forgotten during her long career as a writer.

In fact, if you do the same thing for decades, you tend to do it reflexively without even realizing it.

Glenda has written most of her novels in the structure of ‘a married woman’s story of suffering but finding happiness’. When it is non-fiction, it has a strong romantic tone, and when it is literature, it deals with the concept of life.

That is why I started serializing in newspapers in order to break that mannerism and revive my passion for writing.

Then, she happened to read ‘About T’ as her grandchildren showed their fandom, and she got a glimpse of a world with different colors from her own. Because of that emotion, she talked to the new writer directly, and she felt great joy for the first time in a long while as she continued her long career as a writer.

The process of talking about writing with a writer who is as old as her grandchild and communicating with each other had a small influence on her writing. Recently, Glenda was thinking about writing a completely different type of story than the ‘housewife’s story’ she usually writes.

Since it was a new work of God that gave me such a special opportunity, I was curious, and if I could be of any help there, I would be happy to do so.

‘What kind of work would you have written?’

Will this be another cute and soft story?

After receiving the manuscript, Glenda prepared jasmine tea and pumpkin pie, sat down in the armchair in front of the house, and began reading the new author’s new work, ‘Country of Losers’.

“Haha, I guess this is about the defeated people rising up.”

The thought that came to mind when I saw the title completely changed after exactly 30 minutes.

“············.”

Glenda’s eyes were filled with confusion.

‘What is this story?’

I was completely absorbed in the rough and tumble of the novel, and when I finally came to my senses, I felt a pounding headache.

It wasn’t unpleasant. Rather, I felt liberated.

The feeling of imprinting in her mind imaginations she had never imagined made Glenda deeply immerse herself in this novel.

Internet. A device called ‘The Book’.

Glenda had read several famous SF masterpieces, but had never delved deeply into the genre because it did not suit her taste. However, as a mature writer, she was able to accept ‘Country of Losers’ without any reservations, thanks to her sensitivity to the medium called ‘writing’.

Above all, the process was made easier because the new writer’s writing skills were excellent.

But because of that, Glenda herself felt a sense of inferiority.

‘Is this the writing of a brilliant young writer who will represent the next generation?’

A piece that I cannot write as I am trapped in a set of values ​​that were completed under the pretext of reminiscing about the past.

But Glenda was not so immature a writer as to despair of herself by falling into the trap of a thought that came to her mind. She knew full well that he had his way and she had her own writing.

Still, I sighed without realizing it.

As I continued reading, the sharp intuition contained in this article became more and more evident.

‘It’s a story full of truly cruel and unpleasant imagination.’

I thought the reason why that imagination felt that way was because it contained a certain desire for ‘submission’ that humans have.

In the end, all humans live their lives hoping to be happy.

But what are you doing for this ‘happiness’?

Are you just living off your paycheck, getting through each day? Even if you try to improve yourself, aren’t those attempts just borrowing knowledge from others? Are you just living off of methods you’ve read in books and opinions you’ve seen on TV?

‘The problem is that most of us have accepted that kind of life.’

Finally, after finishing the novel and sighing deeply, Glenda stood up from her armchair.

“Oh my god.”

Now that I’m older, my back always hurts when I stand up after sitting for a long time.

It was a natural phenomenon that I had accepted early on, but after reading this novel, I felt that way about myself differently. The same was true of the ‘inferiority complex’ I had thought about earlier.

The process of adapting to inferiority and accepting one’s own deterioration was one of the most important parts of a person’s search for self. There were many people in this world who, even though their bodies had grown and become adults, lived crying every time they were hurt because they couldn’t have something, and couldn’t do anything about their inner child.

And the story Glenda had been writing was a comfort and a hymn to that.

She has mainly written novels about people accepting the evil and weak parts of themselves and becoming happy through that.

But perhaps that was not slave morality and an excuse.

As ‘The Book’ hopes, isn’t it just a place to settle for happiness?

“······.”

In a situation where she had many worries, Glenda’s choice was simple.

She went into the kitchen and took out her husband’s beloved bourbon, Wild Turkey, and poured it into his favorite teacup.

And unlike her husband, she gulped and exhaled.

The intoxication that quickly sets in.

Borrowing from that spirit, American housewife (omitted) Glenda Hoffman poured out her true feelings.

It was said as a ‘writer’ who is still active, not as a woman, a housewife, or an adult who has lived through a bygone era.

“It’s so well written that I’m going to curse.”

I too wanted to write a novel like this.

***

Meanwhile, in the office of the chair of the creative writing department at Stanford University’s Department of Literature.

“······.”

Edward Macmillan was waiting for one man.

He was itching to talk about his work as soon as possible. It wasn’t even the appointed time yet, but he was already fidgeting.

And unfortunately, the graduate student outside the door trembled involuntarily. Every time he heard the professor get up from his seat and move, he was worried that something scary would happen again, and he was fidgeting like guard A guarding the temple that sealed the monster.

In the midst of all this, a warrior, no, a young man, entered the department head’s office.

“Hello······.”

“Oh, God! Why are you here now!”

“Oh, I came 5 minutes early.”

Shin Han, a freshman at Stanford University, was bewildered when he saw a graduate student with a half-crying expression. What on earth was going on here? If he had asked, even jokingly, “Is graduate school life fun?”, he seemed as if he would have stabbed him with the pen he was holding.

“Hurry up and wait for the department head.”

“yes.”

A graduate student hurriedly guiding Shin into the office as if throwing food to a hungry monster.

Shin knocked on the door inside the office and whispered softly.

“Professor, this is Shin Han.”

[Come in.]

As soon as permission was granted, the god carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

“You’re late.”

“Oh, sorry.”

I arrived 5 minutes early, but I apologized anyway because if the professor was late, then I was late.

And as he sat down, Edward Macmillan put his hand on the manuscript that was on the desk.

The words ‘Country of losers’ clearly caught my eye.

Shin, who had returned to school a little early due to course registration or other matters, received a call from Simon saying, “We are looking for someone to write a book review,” and thought of Edward MacMillan, a professor at Stanford University.

Since the work itself has a literary quality, I thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea to ask a professor with considerable influence in academia to write a review, so I asked him to do so······.

‘That was just yesterday.’

But why was I called here right away?

As soon as I woke up in the morning, a bleary-eyed graduate student who clearly had stayed up all night came to my dormitory and unilaterally informed me of the appointment.

Shin looked at Edward’s face with a slightly uneasy expression, recalling a series of strange situations.

The old professor put a cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and puffed on it several times.

The room quickly became a raccoon’s den.

“I read it all.”

And the conversation continued.

“You want to ask for a book review?”

“······That, that’s right.”

“When will the book come out?”

“Well, I’m guessing about three or four months from now.”

“I guess it won’t really affect my schedule.”

Edward nodded and held the manuscript in his hand as if it were something precious.

“It’s a very well-written piece. The theme is clear. It’s unique. And yet it’s kind. It may be difficult to understand at first glance, but I felt a compelling power that I couldn’t put down. I guess you put a lot of effort into explaining the setting by weaving together the characters and events. ······I’ll write a book review. I don’t know if it’ll be helpful.”

“It would be a great honor for me if you wrote it for me, Professor.”

“Yeah. ······And this isn’t the end, right?”

God’s eyes widened.

Edward MacMillan was a man who systematically analyzed the art of ‘writing’ and presented some rational answers and interpretations to the world. He was passionate about teaching with the intention of raising the art of letters to a higher level by applying his skills, and he studied beyond that. Nowadays, in terms of academic knowledge of literature, there are probably only ten people in America who are better or comparable to him.

Because of that, I had no choice but to do a fairly structural analysis while reading the text.

At first, when I read it, I just tried to immerse myself in the author’s world, and after that, I thoroughly analyzed each story in the novel to read what the author’s intentions were.

And his conclusion was this:

“This is great in itself, but I feel like there’s still more to show.”

“You are correct.”

God smiled awkwardly.

It felt like I got a glimpse of Edward ‘the homework bomb’ Macmillan’s true worth.

Then the old professor smiled as if he was in a good mood.

The world God described had a great impact on him.

Predictions are made through close insight. And writers, in a way, are beings who predict. The process of writing down the stories and characters they create, living, breathing, and moving in their work, is in a way connected to the act of predicting.

And with this work, Edward acknowledges that God is a writer with deep insight.

Yes, he wasn’t even twenty yet, but he was already a writer of great ability.

“For me, this piece is much better than ‘About T’.”

“Go, thank you.”

“We suffer from information overload. And there is a being that controls it and makes us happy. But the process is extremely gentle. We have the right to choose, and it is just like a training wheel on a bicycle, watching over us and helping us.”

‘Training wheels for a bicycle’.

When the god heard that expression, he could not help but be amazed.

He described himself as ‘religion’ and Simon as ‘God’.

And this time, ‘training wheels’ came out.

‘It’s much more touching.’

In a way, that would be the word that could describe me from the perspective of ‘The Book’.

“Just because it hides its activities so thoroughly, this novel makes readers angry. And it makes everyone unable to resist it. Just like the gods in Greek dramas. Unlike them, it doesn’t bring destruction to humans, but that makes it even more unpleasant. If you look at it another way, isn’t it a stagnation that only seeks happiness?”

“······.”

“As a writer, you don’t want to end it here, do you?”

“you’re right.”

God nodded.

“There are still more stories I want to tell. ······And to be honest, I’m still short of the SF award length standard I’m aiming for. I think I’ll write one more volume.”

“What kind of story are you going to write?”

I couldn’t dare say in front of Professor Jeong Jeong-han, “I won’t tell you because it’s a spoiler.”

But since he didn’t want to tell everything straight away, he decided to explain it in a ‘parable’ like Edward Macmillan.

“Professor, don’t you think there’s too much homework?”

“huh?”

“One novel a week? We don’t just take the professor’s classes.”

“Is that a lot?”

Edward opens his eyes wide.

“······.”

“······.”

For a brief moment, an uncomfortable silence fell.

“Uh, I’m not really like that······.”

So God got away in a somewhat cowardly way.

“Someone is having a hard time.”

“Why? Isn’t studying fun? And since you chose to study in this department and are paying to learn, wouldn’t it be better to ‘train’ as much as possible before you leave?”

“Right, that’s the spot!”

“huh?”

“This ‘university’ system is preventing us from accepting it as ‘training’.”

Instead, it only brought about anxiety due to endless competition.

If we don’t overcome this competition, we will be eliminated somewhere in society.

The problem was the ‘why’.

They unconsciously tormented themselves without really knowing why they had to work so hard.

And as I looked at those college students, I thought of one more dystopia I still wanted to show them.

Let’s make an analogy like that without giving off too many spoilers. Edward hesitated for a moment and then tilted his head.

“But, if you do it well, it’ll be fine, right?”

“······.”

“Isn’t this a problem that can be solved if you study hard?”

“Oh, I’m sorry for being rude.”

The analogy failed.

The god felt his eyes going dark.

End

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