Became an American Retro Novelist - Chapter 242
Only Noblemtl
242.
There is a twist at the end of this story.
The twist was clearly designed to be a huge shock to the protagonist, Jack, and the readers.
Julia tilted her head and asked after hearing God’s explanation up to that point.
“Why didn’t you include that in the plan?”
It was a valid question.
I thought it was something they had deliberately hidden from even the editor in charge.
Of course, in order to check whether the plot twist works well, it would have been right to reveal it directly in the content of the completed novel rather than hiding it in the plan and mentioning it verbally like now.
But there was no need for that. Julia was a skilled professional editor, and even if she knew the twist in advance, she could easily anticipate how it would work and how much of a shock it would give to the reader. So I didn’t quite understand why God approached it this way.
Likewise, to understand the question, God answered by wetting his neck with an old-fashioned drink.
“It’s not that I wanted to hide the fact that there was a twist, but I wanted to know how the girl’s existence was perceived based on the plan I sent you just now. And as expected… Julia thought the girl was not a character that fit in with hard-boiled novels.”
“I guess this is what the reader feels while reading the novel. Until they encounter the twist.”
“That’s right. Julia, a great editor, could understand the overall flow of the story just by reading the plan, and she thought that the innocence symbolized by the girl would not fit the hard-boiled nature of the story. However, I am confident that I can convince readers of the existence of a girl in a hard-boiled story.”
God spoke confidently.
Julia thought for a moment that he looked really cool.
It wasn’t arrogance or arrogance. He was a star writer who won the Hugo Award and the Nebula Award at the same time, and earned $1 million last year alone. But the part he was most concerned about was still organizing the materials and thoughts floating like stars in his inner self like the universe into a story and showing them to the readers.
Yeah, what’s the big deal about ‘hardboiled’?
The readers will definitely enjoy reading it. The story of how Jack’s dull life changes because of the girl, as described by God, will definitely be interesting.
······Julia thought that even if she hadn’t heard that there was a twist, she might have been convinced after reading the manuscript before the twist.
Anyway, God didn’t say anything more than that in the end.
It was intended to be hardboiled as a style, not hardboiled as a genre.
“So there’s a twist because of this girl, and through that, hard-boiled is revealed.”
“Yes. I have definitely planned it all out.”
“······Why does it feel like you won’t tell me until you use it?”
“Do I really need to say this? I tend to write in communication with Simon and Julia, but sometimes I want to act like some other writers.”
A god who smiles mischievously.
In front of him, Julia said, puffing out her cheeks.
“Then, the writer will buy you a drink today.”
“No, don’t you usually buy it from the company?”
“Tell me the twist in ‘Nightmare of Bitters’ and I’ll do it.”
“Oh, if Julia is worried about that, I’ll buy her some drinks today.”
Julia ordered a drink while muttering, “I’m sure you’ll regret this,” as she watched the god giggling.
The next glass that came out was the Rolls Royce of whiskey, Macallan, and it was 18 years old.
“By the way, I drink a lot.”
“I feel the same way, but I don’t really have many drinking buddies around me. Let’s go all the way this time.”
The god, as if welcoming, also ordered his own drink.
The Famous Grouse.
It was a low-priced whiskey with Macallan in it as its key malt, and was nicknamed the poor man’s Macallan.
Shin didn’t really like expensive alcohol in his previous life either. He hated it because he felt like alcohol was something that could be consumed with money.
The two continued to talk, sipping whiskey one glass at a time, then two glasses at a time.
“I didn’t know you would be addicted to alcohol.”
“Well, I only drink it occasionally.”
“No, someone who drinks occasionally orders all kinds of drinks without even looking at the menu? Lies. Besides, it hasn’t even been that long since we were able to drink alcohol legally.”
“······Well, I’ve been studying a lot lately.”
Since he had been drinking alcohol since his previous life, he could not say that he knew much, so the god just muddled things through.
“Oh, for this piece?”
“I guess there is a reason for that.”
“Why do you think alcohol often appears as a subject in hardboiled novels?”
After thinking carefully about the surprise question, Shin blurted out a word.
“Alcohol basically makes people emotional.”
“Wow, that’s a really great answer.”
“What did Julia think?”
“Isn’t it just because it’s cool? If the main character is drinking heavily in a bar with a nice atmosphere, that alone becomes a painting. ······Well, actually, I’m just joking. I think it’s probably for a similar reason to the author.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason why it’s cool, like Julia said.”
By the time I had finished my third glass of strong whiskey, I was starting to feel tipsy.
The god continued speaking, ordering another glass.
Alcohol is a tool to release emotions. This is probably a fact that many people can relate to. If you drink alcohol when you are sad, you become sadder, and if you drink alcohol when you are happy, you become happier.
Even now, with his rationality somewhat loosened, Shin spoke to Julia in a more relaxed manner and revealed his true feelings honestly.
“Isn’t it a bit strange? In the hard-boiled style, which mainly emphasizes dryness, ruthlessness, and coldness, alcohol, a tool for expressing emotions, appears frequently. But never, no matter what happens, characters in hard-boiled works never express their emotions by drinking alcohol.”
“That’s true. That’s absolutely true.”
Julia also ordered another drink.
Likewise, alcohol in hard-boiled works is used to express how emotionally strong the characters are due to its characteristic of being a tool for releasing emotions.
In hard-boiled fiction, emotions were considered useless and had to be eliminated in order to solve the problem.
“In a way, the girl in ‘Nightmare of Bitters’ also plays that kind of role.”
To the protagonist Jack, she is the one who gradually brings back the emotions he had forgotten in pursuit of his goal.
“So what’s the twist?”
“I will try to write it as quickly as possible.”
In fact, Julia let out a sigh in front of God, who kept the secret until the end without even giving a hint that there was a plot twist from the beginning.
But in the end, she ended up paying for the drinks with her corporate card.
***
It was a night full of alcohol and jazz music.
The last song I heard was ‘I Fall in Love Too Easily’ by ‘Miles Davis’, which I remember.
Julia, who came out onto the street, felt the world spinning. Perhaps it was because she had been drinking and talking about her two favorite things, novels and alcohol, for the first time in a long time. She was drunker than she thought.
How many glasses did you have? I stopped counting after ten.
The scent of all the whiskies mixed together was like taking a bath in a bathtub full of flowers, vanilla, and chocolate. The liquid in the bathtub was a hospital disinfectant.
‘Did Ardbeg drink it for nothing?’
Ardbeg, a peat whiskey with a distinctive disinfectant aroma that is widely divisive.
Of course, Julia liked it very much. And surprisingly, God knew how to enjoy this whiskey that those who didn’t like it wouldn’t even look at. The two of them were bound to die.
On the way back, I was so drunk.
The god who was watching Julia staggering from the side······was not drunk at all.
“are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, it’s okay.”
“You’re really drunk.”
I had to walk a few more blocks to catch a taxi.
It was already past midnight, but the area around City Hall was relatively safe, so there was no need to worry about crime. However, Julia was drunk and her gait was a little unsteady, and the nearby drunks who saw her giggled and cat-called her.
“Man, that’s killing my butt.”
“Instead of taking a taxi, how about climbing on top of me?”
“Are you playing with that Asian kid over there? Are you satisfied with being small?”
When Julia heard those words, she raised her head in anger to glare at them, but God appeared and covered it.
He spoke with an indifferent expression, his hands in his pockets.
“Ignore it and just go.”
They were drunk anyway. They weren’t worth dealing with.
Julia’s eyes widened at Shin’s extremely ’emotionless’ judgment, not wanting to get involved in a bothersome commotion. Shin naturally led Julia, who had become the target of cat-calling, to the opposite side of the street as if it were something he was used to, and escorted her so as not to be noticed by the drunkards.
“They seem like they don’t have the courage to chase after me anyway.”
Shin glanced back and smiled bitterly at the drunkards who were just licking their lips.
Julia, who had been quietly looking at his profile, said:
“Author, something is different today.”
“We’re both drunk, and it’s night time. In times like this, the one who’s okay should be the one who takes the initiative.”
No matter how safe the public was, that was just how it was at night. You never knew when, where, or what would happen.
Shin, who had taken a step towards the road, naturally caught a taxi, and for some reason Julia thought that he looked more mature than her.
‘This is also a lecture by the new writer.’
There was something very dignified about the way he called a taxi that was standing nearby.
Until now, it felt like he was a great genius writer, but he still had a boyish side to him, but now, that feeling has completely disappeared from his appearance.
What should I say? It feels very gentlemanly and has a mature charm.
Julia negotiated with the taxi driver, opened the door, and stared blankly at the broad back for a moment until the god turned around.
“Get on. I have to go home.”
“······Author.”
“yes?”
“By any chance, have you grown taller?”
“Uh, well.”
God tilted his head at the sudden question, but was not flustered.
Julia tilted her head and got into the taxi. Their eyes met for a moment, and Shin tapped the trunk of the taxi. And the taxi left him there, picked up Julia, and began to drive down the streets of New York… no, Los Angeles.
Shin thought as he watched the car disappear into the darkness of the city, its tail lights trailing a line.
‘······I think I’ll be kicking the blanket a bit tomorrow.’
I’m sure you remember that at some point, when we were having a conversation, I kept saying ‘~~e-yong.’
***
The next day, in the slow morning.
After running through hell with Jiwoo early in the morning, I came home to catch my breath and drink some water when I suddenly received a phone call.
“Yes, it’s Han.”
[······Ah, author.]
The voice of someone dying.
It was Julia Chandler.
“Did you sleep well yesterday?”
[Yes······. What about you, author?]
“Me too. I don’t remember anything from yesterday, but when I came to, I was home.”
I tried to be a little considerate in that way, but the other person was Julia Chandler, who was more thorough than anyone else when she was sober. As expected, I didn’t just let it go.
[Don’t pretend you don’t remember. I’m contemplating whether or not to jump out the window right now.]
“······Calm down and have a hamburger to relieve your hangover.”
[For the time being, let’s just communicate by phone······. I’m sorry······.]
“I’m sorry, that’s what I should say.”
Suddenly, the phone disconnects.
‘Hmm, I guess I’ll have to focus on work for a while. Then I’ll contact you.’
I went into the shower and washed myself, chewing on the fact that I had been forced to do something like that.
After a while, I came out, patting my head with a towel, and the spicy smell of Korean food lingered in my nostrils.
“Hey, Shin-ah! Breakfast is ready! Come quickly and eat!”
When did it start? After our family’s financial situation improved, my mother began to prepare elaborate Korean meals more often than simply eating bread and bacon for breakfast. And right after I returned from college, this tendency became even stronger.
Thanks to that, I was able to finish my hangover with a neat and filling meal, and then I went up to the second floor and started working.
‘ego.’
As I told Julia, ‘Nightmare of Bitters’ was never a novel that sacrificed the first half for a twist in the second half.
In fact, in a way, I thought that the first half of this novel, or rather, this novel itself, could be an antithesis to existing hard-boiled novels.
In my opinion, hard-boiled novels are novels that kill ’emotions’.
Why? Because emotions don’t help solve problems. That’s why men have been taught since childhood to suppress their emotions. Adults shouldn’t cry, be very happy, or get angry. People praised men who controlled their emotions and moved toward their goals as badass.
And I, from my past life, have some of that appearance too.
‘That’s right.’
Even after returning, I was only motivated by the goal of paying off my family’s debt.
Even at school, I was overly cold, considering it unnecessary to build relationships, and in the process, I failed to take care of others, let alone my own psychological state.
Thinking back now, it was truly a terrible thing.
There are so many good people and happy things in the world.
But to write this novel, I had to dive back into those feelings.
I already had the plot figured out, but to write a hard-boiled novel, I needed to put a lot of effort into the sentences.
I restrained my emotions so that they don’t stand out too much, and I also refined the girl’s lines and descriptions so that they don’t seem out of place.
I focused on bringing back my past life, when I had lost my father, my mother, and even my novel, and was tossed around by the waves, desperately trying to find my balance in life.
“Oh, brother! Eat some fruit! Mom said to eat some!”
Oh, the hamster brought some fruit.
“Why are you frowning like that? You’ll get wrinkles.”
“Jiwoo. Wrinkles just appear when you get older.”
“Oh, I want to eat the apple.”
Yeah, yeah. Take it.
Jiwoo Jang, who didn’t even care about my answer and just took all five of the crescent-shaped apple slices.
That left only a handful of dates on the plate.
I continued to think as I chewed on it.
“······.”
How far did you think about it?
Oh, yeah.
“Oh, that’s right!”
······The hamster came again.
“You didn’t forget that we decided to go see Alexa’s play later this evening, right?!”
“I know, Jiwoo. It’s okay if you speak softly.”
“I’m so excited!”
“so do i.”
The hamster went back again······.
“······Phuhat!”
I couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.
‘Oh, okay. I’ll think about it later tonight.’
Is this why writers work better at night?
Since I have to spend most of my time with people who live during the day, I tend to get interrupted easily during this time. That’s why, if a writer wants to work during the day, they might have to find a separate studio or go to a suitable cafe, but I don’t necessarily have to do that right now.
For me, being with people is as important as writing novels.
‘It seems like Jiwoo is really excited since I’m back home after a long time.’
Instead of roughly anticipating the psychology and going to work, I went outside. The hamster, who was loitering in front of the door, wondering how to get in again, was startled.
“Huh?!”
“What else do you have to say?”
“I, I think that’s getting in the way of your work······.”
“It’s okay. What is it?”
“I wrote a new song this time. Would you like to listen to it?!”
“As much as you want.”
I laughed lightly and the excited hamster ran off to his room.
Looking at that back view, I suddenly remembered something.
‘ah.’
This must be it.
The feeling when Jack opens his heart to the girl and cares for her without realizing it.
I quietly engraved the sentence that came to me like inspiration in my head. I started using a word processor after using a typewriter, but I was still used to the analog method from several years ago, so it didn’t seem that difficult to recall the current feeling with a few words I remembered and continue writing.
‘······I received help I never expected.’
But to me, Jiwoo wasn’t my ‘girl’.
Alexa, who I would meet on stage at night, Dupi, who I would watch the show with, Julia, who I would drink with the night before and catch up with in the morning, the world that changed because of so many people like that was definitely a miracle that happened to me and a result of my ‘purity’.
That’s why I was able to smile.
‘But not Jack, right?’
Just like I was right before I returned to 1980.
Suddenly, the flavor of the Old Fashioned I had the day before came to mind and lingered on my tongue.