From Page to Screen
It was the kind of good news that turned novels into dramas. It wasn't anything extraordinary, but it wasn't rare either. There had been movies adapted from novels, and of course, dramas were a given.
That said, I only had two novels out so far... It couldn't be Sunlight Painter, could it? It had run to seven volumes, after all...
"Did you say you want to adapt Sunlight Painter into a drama?"
"No. They want to adapt Song of the Sword."
"But is this really from the broadcasting station? It's not some prank call or anything, right?"
"It could be... but who'd prank us over something like this?"
"Hmm..."
Yoo Min-ah's words made sense. Who would make a prank call specifically about wanting to adapt a novel into a drama? That seemed a bit too elaborate.
Still, adapting Song of the Sword... Genre novels were tough to turn into dramas, that much was true. The volume alone was a huge hurdle. Song of the Sword was a short novel that wrapped up in one volume, but Sunlight Painter was a massive epic pushing fifty volumes.
To adapt something that long, you'd probably need up to twenty seasons. Even that might not be enough. Dramas usually ran twelve episodes per season, and even skipping and cutting as much as possible, the sheer amount of content was staggering. Plus, there was no way to capture the unique vibe of a game fantasy novel. How would they even handle status windows? Worse, they'd have to recreate that fantasy atmosphere. With Korean drama budgets, it was practically impossible.
But Song of the Sword was just one volume. They could stretch it out with details, but it wouldn't drag on like Sunlight Painter. Perfect length for a drama, really.
Bang!
"Eek!"
I couldn't help jumping when the office door flew open. Turning around, I saw Kim Sung-ho standing there, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Great news!"
"Pardon?"
"They've proposed adapting Sora's Song of the Sword into a drama!"
"So it was real."
With him confirming it like that, the drama adaptation offer for my novel was set in stone. No lies about it.
"Team leader, is this a real drama proposal?"
"Yeah. Just came back from the meeting."
"But do you accept it, team leader...? Shouldn't Sora be the one?"
Yoo Min-ah glanced at me. I shook my head.
According to the contract, Songi Media owned the rights to my publications. Sure, if I stepped in and said no, it could lead to legal disputes. But I had zero reason to turn down a drama offer. It was great publicity, and of course, they'd pay for it—original work royalties, I suppose.
"Sora...!"
Seeing the fiery gleam in Team Leader Kim Sung-ho's eyes, I had no choice but to nod. Who knew what kind of reaction I'd get if I refused? He might turn into Godzilla and burn the whole company down.
"So, which station is producing it? Not cable, right...? Among the terrestrials, is there one shooting a historical drama right now...?"
Yoo Min-ah's question piqued my curiosity too. Which station wanted to turn my novel into a drama that badly?
"It's KBA."
"Whoa, them?"
They were famous for producing proper historical dramas. The idea that they wanted to adapt my work... it was embarrassing, somehow. Not that it was really my work. It was someone else's from another world. All I'd done was transcribe it perfectly thanks to my flawless memory.
Of course, if I said that here, they'd think I was crazy. In this world, it was officially mine.
Even appearing on Can Such Things Happen? had been nerve-wracking, but this felt even heavier. If I screwed this up, it wouldn't just be me failing. The director, the hardworking staff, the actors—they'd all go down with it.
On Can Such Things Happen?, only I would have failed, and it wouldn't have been a huge blow. No network would crumble over it. Plus, it was an ongoing show anyway.
But historical dramas were different. One flop, and it was straight to zero.
Realizing how many livelihoods hung in the balance filled me with a crushing weight. Still, I had to give a thumbs-up to the Song of the Sword adaptation. Back on my old Earth, it had been a massive hit. The lead actor even won acting awards for his portrayal of Admiral Yi Sun-sin.
Despite fierce competition, he'd nailed it. Maybe it'd work here too...? I trusted people's tastes. And in this era when TV still ruled supreme—no YouTube or other media yet—the odds of success were even higher. Everyone just watched TV. Other media were still in their infancy, nowhere near pulling in crowds.
"Yes! Yes!"
Watching Team Leader Kim Sung-ho pumping his fist in joy reminded me of Dad. He got excited like that too, whenever something good happened...
And so, the historical drama based on my published Song of the Sword was greenlit.
We wouldn't rake in insane royalties even if it blew up. Just the adaptation rights fee, plus a 1-2% cut of ad revenue, reruns, and exports during its run. The real money came later: success driving people to the original novel, boosting royalties from new readers.
Think Japanese anime movies. Even mega-hits paid creators a fixed amount due to their culture. But when the anime exploded, original manga sales skyrocketed like a plane taking off. That's where creators made bank.
I figured it'd be the same for me.
Lee Yeon-ji was waiting for someone at a café. By the time you reached university professor status, your network expanded inevitably. People looked at you with favor.
Mention you were a professor, and they'd warm up. Say it was Seyeon University, and their eyes would light up even more. Landing a professorship at a top school like that was insanely tough—harder than winning the lottery first prize. Lotteries paid out dozens weekly, but Seyeon spots were limited.
"Ugh..."
Fumbling with her still-unfamiliar cellphone, Lee Yeon-ji finally met the person she'd been waiting for.
"Hello, Yeon-ji."
"Hi~ Long time no see."
"Heh, so it has."
The man was a drama writer—and not just any, one with multiple hits under his belt. Early fifties, older than her.
Chat started light, everyday stuff, before shifting to his recent woes.
"I'm prepping the next historical drama, but... nothing's clicking."
"Really?"
Lee Yeon-ji's eyes sparkled at Kim Min-gyu's words. This was why she'd nurtured her connections.
She slid a book across to him casually.
"Give this a read."
"Huh? What's this?"
"New novel out. I loved it. Think it could help with your dilemma."
"Song of the Sword...?"
Kim Min-gyu eyed the book she'd handed him. Its sleek design alone made it worth a look.
"It's about Admiral Yi Sun-sin. Really beautiful. You won't regret it."
"Wow, if you're recommending it this highly... I'll check it out at home. A book that charms a professor? Now I'm curious."
And that was the little backstory behind KBA greenlighting Sora's Song of the Sword. Lee Yeon-ji's modest effort—or was it a massive backroom deal?
Of course, Kim Min-gyu read it, loved it, and pushed for the adaptation. If it had been subpar, it wouldn't have even been considered, let alone adapted.