Overflowing Talent (2)
Late at night, I was reading Oh Sang-mi’s short story collection, The Mother's Club. Hmm.
It certainly felt different from the younger writers. Choi Bak and Park Jeong-shin had poured all their energy into the freshness of their work, as though they wanted to build a world that belonged to them alone. Oh Sang-mi, by contrast, was focused squarely on reality. The title story, The Mother's Club, traced the love and resentment between mother and daughter; Newcomer depicted the difficult second act of a retired woman’s life. These were traditional stories, concerned with family and society.
In particular, she dealt with the female psyche in an unapologetic way. Plenty of keywords came to mind at once: women, family, social injustice, tradition, and so on.
But then again, “Isn’t that kind of uninteresting?” If you handled a traditional novel through traditional themes, what was left?
No meaning. No entertainment.
And plenty of critics had probably already said as much. Criticism, too, was a literary work. It wasn’t a paper for academics to chew over.
It had to be immediately compelling, and it had to be fun. “I need something new. A different angle.” In other words, I needed concentration. I closed my eyes and looked at the keywords again.
Thousands of words about Oh Sang-mi.
They spawned themselves at random, sprang up, piled higher, flickered out.
Like they were trying to charm me. It was almost cute, the way they fluttered around begging to be noticed.
But no. None of you are enough.
Something newer...
“Ah.” There it was. Buried in the middle of that heap of words, a creature shining with rainbow light.
One way to give Oh Sang-mi’s fiction a fresh reading.
“I need to compare it.”
I changed the direction of my analysis. I wouldn’t cling to Oh Sang-mi alone.
I would find a world literature writer who could make her worth shine brighter.
If I compared the two, I could arrive at a different kind of interpretation.
It felt as if a library had suddenly flung itself open with a whoosh.
A library packed with the complete works of world literature.
Shelves where I only had to choose, and those towering masterpieces would reveal their value on their own.
I opened my eyes. “Found it.” As if possessed, I wrote it down in my notebook. Virginia Woolf. The summit of world women’s literature.
I had chosen you.
That was when it happened.
Buzz. My phone lit up with a message.
Who could it be so late at night? It was Senior Yang. [Senior Yang Ho-chan: Mok Do you know Park Jeong-shin is doing a live stream on Ensta?]
[Me: He does stuff like that too?]
[Senior Yang Ho-chan: He’s handsome, so he’s got tons of fans. And he’s got a bit of attention-seeking streak too. Anyway, I was bored and started watching.]
[Me: I’m more surprised that you were watching it. As expected, the gossip king of the literary world.]
[Senior Yang Ho-chan: Park Jeong-shin is talking about you right now lolololol]
Me? Was he cursing me out or something? Senior Yang sent me the live stream address.
Park Jeong-shin appeared in the thumbnail, seated at a slanted angle under soft white lighting, a guitar slung over his shoulder. It was a thumbnail I would never have wanted to enter, but I endured it and started spying on Park Jeong-shin’s broadcast.
[Di-ri-ri-ring.]
“You like the guitar sound, right? I can’t play it, but the vibe is good.”
He was fooling around. And yet there were more than three thousand viewers.
In the literary world, that meant something. He was definitely popular.
Comments poured up in real time.
-So handsome T_T T_T T_T T_T T_T T_T T_T the fact that he can’t play guitar is cute lololol
-You said you released a new work? I’ve been waiting forever.
-His curly hair is cute. I preordered the winter issue of Gyeongseong Geul.
-So what happened with the editor? Why do you keep stopping mid-sentence?
[Ah. Our editor? His name is Mok Hyunsun.]
[Di-ri-ri-ring.]
[That brat has no manners, you know?]
“I knew it.” I should have recorded him kneeling and begging me for forgiveness.
Fine. I’d see how far he took it.
-??? What did you do to the author?
-Mok Hyunsun? I’m looking him up.
-Abuse of power? Whoa
-Does that guy have an Ensta account?
[Ah, don’t get worked up. The truth is, he saved me.]
[Di-ri-ri-ring.]
[As you know, I’d been in a really long slump. I wanted to show you all something good, but inspiration just wouldn’t come. I was having a hard time, and then... Mok Hyunsun snapped me out of it. I wrote a novel the same day Mok Hyunsun visited me.]
[Di-ri-ri-ring.]
-What a twist lol
-The editor has skills.
-What did the editor even do?
-Doesn’t look like Mok Hyunsun has Ensta.
-Google him lol
[I’m not going to tell you. It’s a bit personal.]
[Anyway...]
[Diri-ring.]
Park Jeong-shin paused for a moment, then said with heavy emphasis:
[He. Was. Awesome.]
[Ja-ga-ja-ga-ja-ga-jagang!!!]
He was clearly embarrassed after saying it himself.
Otherwise there was no reason to start viciously strumming the guitar like that.
I let out a snort.
There was a reason people called him a lunatic.
In more ways than one.
Seeing how prickly Park Jeong-shin was acting, it seemed The Interpretation of Dreams had helped him more than I expected.
-Found a Mok Hyunsun article while googling.
-LMAOOOOOO he’s terrible at guitar.
-Sudden emotional turnaround lol
-Now I’m curious about Mok Hyunsun.
-Google? What’s that?
[You know what? I’ll read it for you.]
Park Jeong-shin set down the guitar tucked under his arm.
Then he leaned toward the microphone.
[Ahem. ...There was a man who fought two wars.]
“Oh, that’s pretty good...”
He had presence.
In a low voice, he began to read the review.
It felt fresh.
The sensation of hearing my own words through someone else’s mouth.
A little ticklish, and a little gratifying.
[...This man’s struggle is beautiful in its utter humanity.]
For a moment, no one typed in the comments.
Thump, thump. Why was my heart pounding over something like this?
Because everyone was quiet, the tension that hadn’t existed a second ago began to form.
Then the first comment appeared.
-This is insane, seriously.
From there, reactions burst up in a rush.
-Shouldn’t this person be the writer? I’ve never heard a review this moving.
-Park Jeong-shin’s voice + the editor’s writing = heaven
-Whoa..................................
-Does he have any other writing? He doesn’t seem like someone who should only be an editor.
-He’s crazy.
-This is better than most novels, honestly;;
And among them, the line that made me feel best was this:
-Just listening to the review makes me feel like I’ve already read the whole story.
[Mok Hyunsun is seriously nuts. Wow... I knew he was crazy, but I didn’t know he was like this.]
-Video call him.
-Video call! Video call!
-Show us his face, damn lolololololol
-I am a little curious. He writes way too well.
[Video call? Seriously? I’m doing it? Wait a second. I’ll call him now.]
“What the hell. He’s serious?”
Before I’d even finished panicking, buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz.
My phone started ringing relentlessly.
A video call.
There had never been anything more mortifying in my life.
No, a video call going out live on a broadcast?
My own rule had always been that I wouldn’t do it even for money. But maybe because Park Jeong-shin had read the review.
Or maybe because the reaction had been so intense. Whatever the reason, I found myself thinking it might not matter.
When a man like that could blithely carry on a broadcast, what was there to fear from a mild-mannered editor showing his face for once?
“Yes. Author.” In the end, I answered the call.
---
The next day, the moment I arrived at work, I was summoned to the PR team. Their atmosphere was distinctly different from the editorial team’s.
There were more young women, and their clothes were far more relaxed.
They really did look like the vanguard in the war of social media and YouTube.
“This is Mok Hyunsun from Editorial Team 1, Periodicals Division. I was told the team leader wanted to see me.”
The instant my name was mentioned, Team Leader Jang Joo-yeon of PR shot to her feet.
“Mr. Mok Hyunsun? This way.”
The mood was suspicious.
Had I done something wrong?
No, I hadn’t.
I followed her into the conference room first.
Thud. Team Leader Jang set her phone down in front of me.
On the screen was a community post.
“Take a look.”
“Ah, yes.”
The title was [The Handsome Writer and the Handsome Editor].
It was a screenshot of the video call between me and Park Jeong-shin.
I had no idea what I was looking at, but the content was unusual.
-Park Jeong-shin being handsome was already famous, but even his editor is a pretty guy lol a little controversy brewing
Famous flower-boy style vs. understated cool-handsome style
I rubbed my face a little, embarrassed for no good reason.
I’d never really thought of myself as handsome.
And now there was a community post about it?
“Watch the video too.” Team Leader Jang kindly played the attached clip.
It was a recording of the video call.
Watching it now, the banal greetings from yesterday seemed oddly impressive.
Especially the last line.
[Editor Mok Hyunsun. Before we hang up, say one last word to the fans.]
At the time, I’d thought, What am I supposed to say? They’re not even my fans.
And I certainly didn’t want to say, “Please support our author Park Jeong-shin!”
So I had made a decision.
If it had to be like this, I might as well advertise Gyeongseong Geul.
[Please buy Gyeongseong Geul. And if you’re going to buy it anyway, it’d be even better if you did so using my name.]
The video ended there.
“Hyunsun.”
“Yes.”
“If you’re going to do something like that, at least tell the PR team first.”
She looked ready to stomp her foot in frustration. “Do you know how much our team had our eye on you the moment your review was made public? We were already planning review content for the company’s YouTube channel, pairing you with one of our veteran MCs.”
“With me?”
“Yes. You write good reviews, and you seem like you’d do well on camera. Haah. I should have told Team Leader Kim in advance. I was too complacent. If your face gets out like this, the plan changes.”
...Was an editor supposed to do things like that?
More than anything, I found it odd that she wasn’t asking for my opinion, but then she added, “And don’t misunderstand. We’ll pay you well enough. I’m not an evil boss.”
At the word pay, I decided to be understanding.
I admit it. I like money. Loans, not so much.
“There’s a Yoon Seo-hoon in Editorial Team 1, right?”
“Senior Yoon?”
“Yes. He also appears regularly in our content.”
Yoon senior did that too? I had no idea.
But leaving that aside, wasn’t this a bit much?
“Team Leader, it was just a joke video call. How much impact could it really have on promotion?”
Team Leader Jang suddenly laughed. “Editorial people really are innocent. We’ve already been getting calls from major bookstores. People are buying Gyeongseong Geul while saying, ‘I’m buying this because of editor Mok Hyunsun.’”
“...? Surely not. I was joking.”
“That just means you’re landing in all sorts of ways, Hyunsun. I was even surprised by how current your promo was. Let me put you on notice now: you’ve got a camera temperament.”
Camera temperament.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t really been nervous for a first time.
And well, if the PR team leader said so, who was I to argue?
In any case, Team Leader Jang asked me again to let her know in advance if I ever went on broadcast in the future.
She also asked me to make a one-off appearance in YouTube content sometime around early next year.
I said sure, without much thought.
They were paying me, weren’t they?
And my reaction seemed to satisfy Team Leader Jang quite a bit.
“Now that’s a refreshing answer! No wonder people say you’re a talent.”
My hectic meeting with Team Leader Jang ended there. To be honest, I brushed off our conversation without much care.
Even if I had to appear on YouTube,
it was something that would happen next year anyway.
But then, a week later.
“We’re starting the shoot.”
I was appearing on Gyeongseong Publishing’s YouTube channel, Gyeongseong Bukbuk.
The content was called Novel N Movie.