Surviving as a Writer in the British Empire



prologue

“f*ck bastards. In any case, all the noble things in the world were made by the British.”

It’s already been 15 days since I finished this work and went on a trip to the publisher on the excuse of covering.

My days in England, most of which I spent, were fantastic.

It means that there was no sense of reality, so it was like a family.

The fish and chips were soggy, the beer lukewarm, and the tea bland. What is the suzerain of tea?

After all, when it comes to tea, it is green tea or citron tea, and the after meal is ice americano even if it freezes to death.

Anyway, this is why you can’t mix mint and chocolate. Guys who don’t know how to eat British food.

I felt like I wanted to go back to Korea right away. The spicy kimchi jjigae and fried pork rice bowl flickered in front of my eyes.

However, the price of the plane ticket is not worth it. The sense of professional mission to complete the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, which I was aiming for, also held me back.

Of course, most of the holy places were disappointing.

The Globe Theater was nothing special, 221B Baker Street was expensive, but there wasn’t much to see.

Glastonbury’s King Arthur’s tomb was also worth seeing on the Abbey side, and I couldn’t understand why Platforms 9 and 3/4 at King’s Cross Station were between 8 and 9 and not between 9 and 10. Anyway, it’s really serious for that lady to make a mistake.

Seeing this, I have no sense of mission, and I only get new thoughts that I came here for no reason.

It is the same this time.

Oh my God, no matter how much a bus from the 1940s was put in for a tourist destination concept, shouldn’t that be custom? What if the engine is at the level of the 40s?

“Really, if only this guy didn’t have a house.”

Greenway House, Torquay, Devon.

It is the villa where Agatha Christie, the queen of mystery novels, spent her last years, and it is one of the holy places among mystery novel enthusiasts.

I’ve fallen for the other side now, but as someone who was quite immersed in mystery novels in high school, I didn’t have a desire to listen to it at least once…

“Nothing.”

The house itself is a boring design, let’s say that.

It is not an era where avant-garde surrealist mansions can be built like in the present.

But the same goes for Baker Street, where the Sherlock Holmes Museum is located, and I can’t help but think that a place like this is just like an ordinary family home.

There are many collections and collections that the author used during his lifetime, so if you ask if they are useless to use as data, that’s not the case again, but since it’s a real house in modern times, I have to say it’s an unavoidable feeling.

After all, is romance good when it’s romance? When you come to the place you longed for, you can’t help but be disappointed.

The moment I turned around while thinking that.

“You look around meticulously.”

“yes?”

When I turned around, a white old woman was looking at me with a puzzled expression.

It’s a face that looks like I’ve seen it somewhere…

I don’t know. Even if you look at cancer, you’re a grandmother you’ve never seen before, right?

“Excuse me, madam. Did you tell me?”

“Oh my goodness. You speak our language very well. Are you from the east colony?”

“what?”

colony? I was dumbfounded and asked again.

Oh my God, even in the era of DTS and grasshopper games, are there still anachronistic racists like this?

······No, look at those wrinkles. Aren’t they the same age as Margaret Thatcher, who has already died, and seems to be able to work with her even if she comes back to life?

Yes, you may be someone who doesn’t know that the world has changed.

I’ve heard that some of the old people in England are frozen in time in the days of the British Empire.

I said with a smile on my face.

“No, I am a novel writer from Korea. English is KATUSA, and I learned it while serving with the US Army.”

“okay. Are you from the Western Colonies then?”

“······Heh heh heh heh.”

Even though I openly told the name of the country, this kind of reaction.

In the end, no matter how good a person looks, can’t the people of Yeonggil-ri hate it?

Whether or not she knew that I was thinking this, the old lady said with her eyes twinkling in reverse.

“By the way, you’re a novelist… then, did you come here to follow in your senior’s footsteps?”

“For now, yes.”

“Interesting. So what kind of novel are you writing? Can I read it for a second?”

“Ah, yes.”

I naturally flipped the screen on my smartphone and turned it over.

Then, the grandmother took out her glasses from her bosom and began to read while pulling on the screen.

Wait, come to think of it, mine was never published in English? Grandma, how are you reading?

The moment she thought that, the grandmother nodded as if she knew something, and opened her mouth.

“Indeed, I see. Is it this type?”

“Is that worth reading?”

“How are you? There are too many lines and short sentences, so it is too peripheral, but this also has its own taste to read.”

“Uh, um.”

So, how are you reading…

I thought so, but I had no choice but to keep my mouth shut due to the somehow intimidating feeling I felt from my grandmother.

“To be honest, I think times have changed a lot. Was it the Beatles? I really hated that band, but young people praised them like Handel.”

“Is that so?”

The comparison targets are so different!

I was speechless and had no choice but to keep my mouth shut. But wasn’t Handel German?

“How are you? Why do people these days prefer peripheral creations like your writing or Beatles music?”

“It’s honestly a bit burdensome to say that my writing is on the same line as the Beatles…”

I said that while scratching my head.

Hmm, what should I say about this?

“Well, to put it simply, being too busy is the cause.”

“I’m busy.”

“Yes, what.”

First of all, I don’t know much about The Beatles. I know it’s a band that peaked before I was even born, disbanded, and became a forgotten legend.

So, let’s focus on the web novel first.

I thought so and spoke slowly.

“Korea is a very overworked country. Whether it’s studying or working, I’m exhausted from doing too many things that I’m exhausted from. There is little time to enjoy art calmly, so I naturally try to get pleasure more efficiently.”

“Is that why you naturally prefer peripheral art?”

“It’s not exact, but you can roughly see it that way. In a word, public demand.”

Of course, there is also the influence of video streaming sites such as You Tube and Tic Tac. But it’s a long story, so I’ll cut it short.

“Because it’s the public… doesn’t that reduce the artistry?”

“Art standards are different. Now is the time for the public to define what art is. It is an era in which even one person becomes ‘art’ the more the public acknowledges it.”

In other words, popularity is art.

I explained that, and the old lady nodded.

“That is an interesting theory. But wouldn’t that mean that the works you’ve painstakingly worked for would be consumed as a one-time thing? As a writer, don’t you have the ambition to be called a great writer by writing a masterpiece that will go down in the history of literature?”

“It wasn’t.”

There were times when I wanted to write something like The Emperor of the Ring or a series of new series. Honestly, anyone who writes would have had such a dream.

But now it’s a little different.

“In the era of the masses, the position of a great writer is very lofty. If I dare to add a major, it is more honorable to be called a great writer by the public.”

“Hmm, didn’t it hurt to have your dreams shattered?”

“Not so much.”

Anyway, if it sells well for a long time, that’s all. I said so and continued.

“Isn’t the owner of this mansion proving that too?”

“What does that mean?”

“Agatha Christie wrote nearly 80 articles in her lifetime, and Jane Marple is her favorite character. However, as a result of the public liking Hercule Poirot more, isn’t the author also remembered only as the main character of Poirot? I’m more envious of not being forgotten anyway.”

“Whoop whoop.”

The old lady smiled incoherently.

What, did I tell you such a funny story? It was the moment I thought so.

Bread- Bread-.

“Oh, it’s time to get on the bus.”

“okay. It was a very informative and good conversation.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

I’ll be late. I hurriedly ran to the stairs.

however.

“It would be nice to see you again. Handle.”

“yes?”

what did you just say? Hansel? Did I give you my name? My name is Jinhansol.

The moment I turned around with that thought in mind.

“Uh huh?”

I felt like my body was bouncing and floating.

Could it be that you slipped down the stairs just now?

“Aww!!”

weird. I’m sure I just slipped on the stairs, but the feeling of falling continues for too long. The sight is far away, and the sound is dark.

endless solitude.

And when I open my eyes again

“… God damn it.”

I was in England in 1890, one and a half centuries ago.