Episode 159: Breakfast at Hermit Crab (2)

soft-

wrinkled fingers. The moment the paper touches the index finger that has calluses in it. The paper rolls over with a rustling sound.

OK.

[It may be a disaster for everyday life to have a regular bar in the neighborhood, but it is infinitely a blessing for memories... .]

Countless typefaces scattered over the pure white drawing.

The individual worlds drawn by white and black revealed their secrets in front of Park Yeon-seo.

Park Yeon-seo.

This is the 30th anniversary of his debut as an elder writer. He is one of the most outstanding writers of our time, who portrayed human existence in a capitalist society through his works.

… In fact, it is an external stance.

For those in the literary world, Park Yeon-seo is just.

She's just a 'tiger old man who gets more poisonous as he gets older'.

Because, of course, her comment contains a higher purity of salt than that of the Yuni Salt Desert. This is because she is famous for inflicting intense pain that hurts more than a bullet ant.

'Star ★. It is clear that the author of this novel has dementia. Because I remember the same plot, the same characters, and the same expressions as in this novel in his previous novel 'To Kill OO'.

‘Star rating ☆. I highly recommend using this novel as a teaching aid in the training of Hwasaengbang in Korea. Because it is colorless, tasteless, and odorless, it is not uncommon for it to seriously damage the reader's respiratory tract, heart, and brain.

That's why the 'people who've been evaluated by her at least once.

‘Ah, if you’re old man’s age, you’ll just say nice things, huh? You say my novel is nothing more than a self-replica? huh really Have you ever done something like that because you're not funny? Kaak Hee!’

‘Master Park Yeon-seo! No, how well you write that my style is colorless, tasteless, and odorless! I could have been more famous than you if I had been lucky!’

Although she criticized her by taking her crane off her evaluation of her by Park Yeon-seo. She never gave in to her own subjectivity.

How strong was his tenacity?

‘Hey, sister. That kills my temper a bit and lives. No, like everyone else, how can I make it softer? Kids these days aren’t like us, and then they bump into us?’

‘Take it, yes! What if it's personal preference by bringing something that doesn't even look like an article? No, how are you going to show readers what you're talking about?'

… If he had been born in the past, he must have been beheaded by the king, or he must have had the king's head cut off.

'invective? Park Byeong-sik in the film industry, Marco Ramsey in the culinary world, and Park Yeon-seo-ji in the novel world.’

If so, would these words be circulating?

However, this did not mean that her evaluation was only filled with unfounded sarcasm.

Because, while most of the writers she criticized have not produced any significant achievements since her.

‘Star rating ★★★☆. This work is a well-made white flower wine. This work, which was cooked with all kind of sincerity with a hundred flowers picked over a lifetime, is worthy of intoxicating the whole world with its bright colors and pleasant fragrance. The best under the heavens. I would like to express my gratitude to the author for allowing me to taste such a delicious drink.’

Most of the writers she praised.

[2017 Summit Literary Award Excellence Award Winner ‘The Day It’s Hard to Take Off’]

[2018 Daesung Literary Award Grand Prize Winner ‘Capital Occupation’]

[2019 Future Literary Award Grand Prize Winner ‘When I Was a Giant’]

It was because her skills were recognized in her later years and her active work activities were developed.

so.

‘What? Park Yeon-seo gave her three and a half stars!’

'crazy! If it’s such a work, I’ll buy it right away without asking any questions!’

‘Hey, hey! Yeon Seogap was right! One of the best novels I've read this year! Exciting!’

As readers, we have no choice but to listen to Park Yeon-seo's evaluation of her work.

soft-

Today she was reviewing her manuscript. The manuscript in her hand today is one of the manuscripts submitted to the 'Supreme Literary Award'. She was the proof of the sweat and tears of newcomers who dream of becoming writers.

However.“Whew… .”

A deep sigh escaped from her mouth as she put her manuscript down.

‘There is no work, the work.’

Even today, she had already reviewed more than 10 works, but none of them caught her eye.

Of course, it would be unreasonable to expect much from a new manuscript... … .

‘Isn’t this really too much?’

It's been a few days since I've been reading only works of the same level, and I felt like my head would explode at any moment.

Apart from sweat and tears in the submitted manuscripts, most of the manuscripts are piled up on the desk.

'It's like I've seen it somewhere. A style that looks like it was made in a factory. Poor reason.’

It was because he was looking too ugly to be called a 'work'.

"Eww."

A sigh escaped Park Yeon-seo's mouth.

Of course, it wasn't that the quality of this year's work was too low compared to the average year, but... … .

'Is this too poorly structured? The characters feel like they are floating.’

‘Hey, he writes quite well, but he lacks philosophy.’

‘Well, maybe 10 years ago it would have been eaten.’

No matter how carefully I looked at the manuscript, there were no works that fit the name of ‘Daesang’.

'It's a big deal, it's not long until the deadline... .'

For this reason, I was already reviewing 10 to 20 manuscripts a day, reducing sleep for a week.

Let the situation be like this

‘… Are my standards too high?’

I thought about it, but that doesn't mean I couldn't be bothered with the judging of Korea's best newcomer award, the Sangsang Literary Award.

However?

‘… I need to rest a bit after looking at this today.’

The last manuscript that Park Yeon-seo picked up felt unusual.

soft-

The first sentence of her novel appeared as she turned her cover page.

'On a rainy night, the lights of the funeral hall in front of the house were distorted, and cars flocked to the parking lot with pebbles like rats.'

The moment you see that sentence.

pounding-

Park Yeon-seo felt her own heart pulsate loudly.

A sensation she hadn't felt in nearly three years. A tremor that pierces her from her fingertips to her toes. The joy of finding an outstanding piece of work for her. The goosebumps of her climbing up her back came to her.

'This is it!'

She handed over her manuscript with her trembling fingers. Then, her brain, which had not been sleeping for a while, began to move, swallowing her saliva.

[…] I am nothing That evening, on the terrace of a cafe, I was nothing more than a bright silhouette. I was waiting for the rain to stop... ]

The novel is a modern city. It was a story about what happens to fragmented human beings after going through a major event.

It was a common setting, though. The characters with deep solitude and dreamy atmosphere made the work more than ordinary.

[When it's not raining, I look at people and think. How much water is hiding in those people's bodies... ]

Park Yeon-seo fell in love with her novel novel that she has not seen in a long time.

[On that day, I saw a lot. Among them, there were people who wanted to become a stewardess, and there were people who wanted to become singers and… Some said they just wanted to live... (syncopation)… But, ironically, I was drinking at that time. The same temperature, the same price, the same light as the tears they shed... ]

So some time has passed.

[…] In my dream I was a giant. That day, with a large body that seemed to reach the sky. I took out a little bird from the people's tears, that salty lake.]

The novel is over.

“… ha."

The breath I had been holding in for so long exploded.

She looked down at her manuscript in her own hands, blankly looking at her ending credits.

‘Crazy.’

All the dissatisfaction I had until I saw her novels disappeared without a trace.

No, rather, she felt her body tremble as if her body were aching at the remnants of her pleasure, which was so intense.

She went back to the beginning of her manuscript and looked at her author's name.

OK.

Pi Hyeon-deuk.

A name you'll remember if you've seen it at least once. A strange but unfamiliar name caught her eye.

'Who is it?'

In fact, most of the people who have submitted her submissions to the Newcomer Literature Award are people who have no relationship with her.

However, in the case of large literary awards such as the Sangsang Literary Award, there were times when unexpectedly familiar names appeared.

It happens because the bottom of the paragraph is narrower than I thought.

This is a phenomenon that occurs because everyone is connected between juniors, classmates, seniors, teachers, professors, and masters.

Of course, it wasn't that she was directly creating a force within the paragraph, but as her position was a position, there was some news that she could hear even if she stood still.

However, there was no name named Pi Hyeon-deuk anywhere in her memory.

'no way… Are you really new? Did you write this kind of work by yourself?’

In an instant, she was enveloped in a boiling longing.

In general, let alone the identity of the author.

‘I just need to know the name of the author, what do I do by looking at the face?’

After the manuscript screening, she was the one who didn't go to the awards ceremony. As of today, I really wanted to check the person who wrote this article.

So, without hesitation, she picked up the phone.

even.

[Faith. In charge of the Summit Literary Award. Lee OO]

I found the number of a person who could know Pi Hyeon-deuk's identity and called.

OK.

[Yes. This is teacher Jeonghwan.]

The voice of the person in charge of the literary prize came from over the receiver.

“Junghwan, let me ask you something.”

[Yes. Tell me.]

"that… Do you know who Pi Hyeon-deuk is?”

However?

[…] uh? Did the teacher also call for that person?]

A strange answer came out of the receiver.

‘A teacher?’

She opened her mouth with a slightly bewildered expression.

“… Has anyone else called you besides me?”

OK.

[Uh-huh, don’t say anything. Teacher Yoon Dae-young, Teacher Lee Yeon-hwa, Teacher Choi Yeon-soo, and the current teacher, all the people who were in charge this time called, right?]

The names that come out of the mouth of the person in charge. All of them were the names of writers who were in her position.

‘Heh, it seems that the old people still have some eyes.’

A thin smile formed on Park Yeon-seo's lips.

"okay? So did you tell them?”

[Heh, let me tell you. We'll tell you what we need to know. That person named Pi Hyeon-deuk. I think he's just an ordinary person. So nothing to call other than phone number and address... … .]

“Aren’t you under the doorstep of other people?”

[Ah, absolutely not. We were curious too, so we looked all over. But this is someone who fell from the sky.]

"okay?"

[Yes. Seeing that her address is in Daechi-dong Academy, I think she was probably a former instructor... Other than that, nothing has been revealed.]

In an instant, a deep desire began to grow in Park Yeon-seo's heart.

'I am no one's servant. And she said that until now, she was an instructor at an academy. then?'

A desire she had never heard before.

It was a longing for those with brilliant talents.

‘Yeah, this person… .'

Park Yeon-seo, who had organized her thoughts, slowly opened her mouth.

“… Junghwan-ah, when did you say the awards ceremony was this time?”

Then over the receiver.

[…] Ah? Ah, yes sir, it's the 30th of this month, but... Would you like to attend this time?]

A slightly startled voice came out.

“Why do you hate it?”

[no. If you come, we will only thank you. But you didn't come every time because it was cumbersome, didn't you?]

At her rep's question, she paused for a moment.

and quietly.

“… This time, there is something I really want to have.”

Her own aspirations were revealed.

However?

[…] uh… Well… But teacher. There's something I didn't tell you.]

"What?"

[that is… that… Ha, I don't know if I can tell you this.]

“Want to see the old man run out of breath? Say it quickly.”

[that… Everyone else said the same thing.]

"what?"

[Everyone else has come. At this awards ceremony... Because of the writer Pi Hyeon-deuk.]

In an instant, Park Yeon-seo's face was distorted.

.

.

.

author's words

citation works.

Han Susan. her stranger's face.

Kwon Yeo-sun. believe in love

Patrick Modiano. A street of dark shops.

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