8
8. Contract Offer (2)
Aaron, who worked in Team 1 of the Planning Department at Rodin House.
Aaron was quite famous not only within Rodin House but also throughout the publishing industry.
Every writer he had discovered had either become famous or turned into a bestselling author.
There were many aspiring writers who dreamed of having their work selected by Aaron.
‘You finally posted it, Ms. Rose.’
Two years ago, while looking for books, he had happened to discover a blog called “Rose Plastic Book.”
The blog’s only activity consisted of evaluations and reviews of books, but that simplicity was essentially what made
the blog special.
‘Everything is accurate.’
Whether it was a popular novel or an unpopular one.
The owner of the blog was extremely strict when it came to books and always voiced their honest opinions.
Some of the writers Aaron was in charge of had even been reviewed on the blog, and Aaron himself had learned a lot from
seeing how meticulously they were evaluated.
‘What book did she post today?’
Even after posting an announcement that she was moving to Canada, she continued to upload posts several times.
Her activity had become less frequent lately, but he still looked forward to every day regardless.
‘......A story?’
She had uploaded a review, but there was another post as well.
Unlike her other posts, this one had been made private so that only herself and her followers could read it.
“Title: The Woman of New York: Part 1
Before I begin, I would like to clarify that this is not a story written by me, but by someone I know.
In a city located in northern Mexico......”
The story began with a brief introduction.
‘Someone she knows wrote it?’
There were many cases where people posted their own writing privately so that only close friends could read it because
they were embarrassed by their work.
Some of those works were good enough to be published, while others were so terrible that they were embarrassing to read.
‘But this was posted by Ms. Rose.....’
Normally, unless it was a contest entry or a manuscript submission, he wouldn’t even look at such writing.
But this was a piece posted by Ms. Rose, who had an exceptional eye for literature.
It was something he normally wouldn’t have looked at, but he decided to give it a chance.
‘Hmm..... Honestly, it’s boring.’
At first, he honestly found it rather dull.
No, more than that, it contained an overwhelming amount of melancholy.
‘The author’s emotions are desperately seeping into this work.’
There were occasionally artists who poured their own emotions into their works.
This story was no different. The author’s emotions had been captured in their entirety.
‘Hmm.....’
As the gloomy and heavy atmosphere continued, he began to feel uncomfortable somewhere deep in his heart.
On top of that, as the clichéd story continued, his frustration gradually grew.
“.....What? It’s already over?”
Just when his frustration was beginning to disappear and the story was starting to become interesting, it suddenly
ended.
Aaron couldn’t help but feel bewildered.
‘What is this..... This pulling power?’
A natural progression that kept him reading until the end despite the uninteresting story.
This wasn’t the first time he had encountered an author like this. He had seen many writers with similar styles.
‘This author..... isn’t a rookie.’
A natural flow couldn’t be learned through one or two serializations.
Of course, someone with extraordinary natural talent might be able to do it, but that was simply natural progression.
Creating a natural flow that made the reader unable to stop focusing on the story even while feeling frustrated and
irritated was something a rookie could never accomplish.
‘I want to see more.’
The way the author stopped at just the right moment.
The way paragraphs and words were arranged.
The way scenes transitioned naturally while establishing the characters with remarkable clarity.
Aaron gradually became addicted to the story.
‘Too slow.’
However, the story was being released far too slowly.
It was only natural.
Stories didn’t just come pouring out that quickly.
‘Still, it comes out once every three days.’
Every morning when he woke up, the story of The Woman of New York lingered in his mind.
Suppressing his desire to read more, he went to work and counted down the days until another three days had passed.
‘We have to sign this.’
Aaron instinctively felt that this work absolutely had to be contracted.
The instinct of an editor who had discovered countless bestselling authors had kicked in.
‘Send it.’
It felt like the first time in his life that he had sent an email asking someone to sign a contract.
He assumed that if he sent it to Ms. Rose, she would show the email to her friend, so he wrote it with more care than
ever.
‘.....Why isn’t it coming?’
Several more parts were uploaded even after he sent the email, but there was still no reply.
As always, the anxious hours passed by in an instant.
“Title: The Woman of New York: Part 10
.
.
.
End.”
“......Beautiful.”
The ending was incredibly clean.
The story was so solid that although it left a lingering impression, even that lingering feeling seemed like part of a
perfect ending.
“It’s beautiful..... which makes it even more disappointing. If it had been polished just a little more, it would have
been good enough to publish and achieve real results.”
He was left with a deep sense of regret, but he had no choice but to consider that part of the charm of the story as
well.
Judging from the fact that there had been no contact until now, he assumed the author probably had no intention of
signing a contract.
“Still, what a shame.....”
Aaron naturally reached for a cigarette, hoping to relieve his disappointment with the help of nicotine.
Ding!
If not for the notification that an email had arrived appearing on one side of his monitor.
---
“I’m Aaron, and I work in Team 1 of the Planning Department.”
“Uh..... Hmm.”
I hadn’t expected the publishing company to contact me so quickly.
No, more accurately, it wasn’t actually that fast, but I hadn’t expected them to contact me this late at night.
‘I thought it would take at least a few days.’
I had thought of Aaron as just an ordinary employee.
Since it was apparently a regular employee who had selected my story, I assumed they would need some time to discuss
things with the company before signing the contract.
I expected it to take several days, so I was bewildered by how quickly they had made their decision.
“I’m sorry for contacting you so late, but I’m calling regarding The Woman of New York. Are you available to talk right
now?”
“Hmm..... Could you call me again in about an hour? I’m a little busy right now.”
“One hour..... Yes. Understood. I’ll call you again then.”
I ended the call and headed back to where the camera was still recording.
“You’re back? Who was that?”
“......I’ll tell you when we turn off the camera.”
For now, I continued eating.
But even with delicious jjajang ramen right in front of me, my mind was somewhere else.
‘I..... am going to publish a book.....’
I had never once thought about it since coming to Canada.
I had started out as a web novel writer, and my original plan had been to eventually retire after becoming at least
somewhat known in Korea.
People said being a writer was a profession without retirement, but everyone wanted to make a living from a fixed amount
of money coming in every month.
‘Well..... Being able to make money is good, but......’
Making money in any way was a good thing.
‘But I can’t help feeling uneasy.’
Normally, we would have eaten while talking, but my head was filled with thoughts about publishing a book, so I couldn’t
carry on any conversation.
“Hey.”
“What?”
“We’re done filming. We finished all the food too.”
“......Oh. Already?”
“Yeah.”
While I had been lost in thought, the jjajang ramen on the iron plate had already been completely devoured.
I must have eaten quite a lot while distracted.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know where to start telling you.....”
“Ah. Wait. Let’s get the potatoes first.”
Apparently, they had been roasting potatoes in the remaining embers.
As Jeongmin searched through the campfire and pulled out the potatoes, I started telling him about what had happened
earlier with Emma.
“.....So you’re publishing a book in America? Is this what they call the American Dream?”
“It’s just publishing one book. Isn’t that a little too much to call it the American Dream?”
“Hey. Why does a guy with balls have so little ambition? People need to dream big. What was it called? The Woman of New
York? Isn’t that going to become a movie someday?”
“.....I think I’d have to change the title first.”
I felt embarrassed because I had come up with the title so casually, thinking that Emma would be the only one reading
it.
I had named it far too lazily simply because the story was about succeeding in New York.
“So, Shinyong! Are you signing the contract?”
“If I can get a decent advance, I guess I should.”
“Shinyong is becoming an author!”
“I was already an author..... Ah, never mind.”
There was no point saying it.
Emma was too excited to hear me anyway.
“I’m hungry.”
“Huh? You too? Noodles digest quickly, so I’m hungry too.”
“......You’re already hungry? After eating that much? You even ate potatoes!”
“That was a snack.”
Emma looked at us with an expression of utter contempt, but what were we supposed to do about being hungry?
“Maybe it’s because I used my brain so much. Is there anything left in the house?”
“We’re short on carbs. Eating potatoes made me crave French fries. Want to have some?”
“Oh. Sounds good.”
Watching us debate what to eat, Emma muttered absentmindedly.
“......Pigs. You’ll eat until your stomach explodes and die.”
Ignoring Emma’s words, we went inside the house and searched for something to eat.
---
Exactly one hour later, the phone rang again.
We had already finished eating, and I was lying down in my room, so I was able to answer comfortably.
“We’re thinking of an advance of around $2,000.”
‘That’s roughly 2.5 million won.’
I didn’t know the current exchange rate, but that was roughly how much it came to.
“Can you give me more?”
“We’d like to give you more as well..... but we can offer more if you disclose your previous works.”
“Previous works?”
“You’re an established writer, aren’t you?”
“.....How did you know that?”
“You can tell from the writing. The structure of the work is far too sophisticated for a rookie.”
“Hmm......”
I was a web novel writer in Korea, but I wasn’t sure whether I should tell him that.
It was embarrassing because the other person seemed to think I had written the story under a hidden pen name.
“I’m a rookie, so I don’t really know much about this.”
“Roo.....kie? Hmm. I’ll assume that’s the case for now.”
For the time being, I decided to hide my identity as much as possible.
It wouldn’t really matter if I told him, but I didn’t think now was the right time.
“By the way..... Is this a good story?”
Whenever I was serializing a new work as a web novel writer, this was always the question I asked my editor.
Do you think this story will succeed?
Since the success of a work was directly connected to my livelihood, I suppose that was why I had developed such
thoughts.
“You’ve been in this industry for a long time too..... No, never mind. Anyway, when it comes to a work, no one knows the
result until it’s actually released.”
“Hmm.....”
“Harry Moter also started with a children’s literature publisher. Even the greatest male group in history, the Beatles,
couldn’t be certain they would succeed.”
“That..... is true.”
In the end, no matter what it was, you couldn’t know the result until it had been judged by the public.
I always felt that taking money from other people wasn’t something to be taken lightly.
“Still, if you use the power of our brand, you can make a certain amount of profit. Do people buy luxury goods because
they’re high quality? They buy them because they’re luxury goods.”
“.....That’s true.”
“There are people who will buy a book simply because it has the Rodin House name on it, so please don’t worry too much.
Anyway..... We can discuss this in more detail later. I’ll come to meet you. Could you tell me where you’re currently
staying?”
“.....Do you know Saskatchewan, Canada?”
“Uh..... Hmm.....”