Resuming
“The greatest pleasure in life. YouTube.
The only drug that I can enjoy lying in bed after taking a shower.
I couldn’t hold back the laughter.
“Hehehe.”
But suddenly, I heard an ominous sound of footsteps.
Thump thump.
My head turned reflexively.
The door opened, and the owner of the footsteps called me.
“Oppa, can’t you stop watching YouTube for a moment?”
“Was I loud?”
“Oh, I told you I have a deadline.”
It’s my wife.
For a moment, my wife, who was glaring at me, irritably closed the door and left when I lowered the volume of YouTube.
Bang.!
‘I’m sure I confirmed that the door of her study room, was closed.’
‘And yet, she heard the sound… Her hearing must be amazing.’
“Is she working or something?”
Is it because of the peculiar nature of being a web novel writer?
My wife habitually said that it’s challenging to come up with new stories every day.
Maybe that’s why she gets sharper when she enters her study and starts typing on the keyboard.
“If it’s so difficult, why don’t you just stop?”
Such words came to my throat, but I held them back.
Because if I say this, it’ll turn into a battlefield.
It’s not difficult to win a fight.
Because I am a much more logical person than my wife.
But even if I win the battle, there’s always a post-war negotiation left.
And these negotiations always result in losses for me.
In the end, to reconcile, I have to soothe my wife’s feelings.
And reconciliation always consumes a lot of mental strength.
*****************
“Oppa, don’t you get it? Why can’t you empathize with this?”
Can’t I empathize with not being able to empathize?
It’s not that I can’t empathize, I just don’t understand.
After all, writing was not something I forced myself to do.
It was my dream.
She loved novels and wanted to become a writer. And eventually, she became the writer she had always wanted to be.
Then, shouldn’t she just enjoy writing?
No, fundamentally, I don’t agree that writing is difficult.
Honestly, considering our careers, I’ve probably read more novels than my wife.
And I often had this thought.
***********************
“I could write this much too, right?”
Then, as always, my wife’s nagging came at me.
“You’ve never tried writing, that’s why. Do you know how difficult it is to write 5,000 characters of text every day?”
I didn’t argue with my wife’s words.
To counter her, I needed evidence, which meant I had to bring up the past.
I used to be a web novel writer too.
Back then, I had no major difficulties with serializing my work, and it was well received.
Because of my experience, I can confidently say that writing is not difficult.
But I couldn’t say that now.
I don’t have the right to say that anymore.
I signed a contract and got published with my first work. It was around that time I met my wife.
I fell in love with her at first sight, and my heart burned like fire.
I wanted to get closer to her and be friends.
When she said she was an aspiring writer, I pretended to be one too.
We shared the same hobby and goal, so we quickly became friends and eventually started dating.
But there were consequences.
Because I was too infatuated with my wife, I neglected my serialization.
At first, it was just a break. One time was difficult but twice was easy.
I kept taking breaks until I changed my serialization schedule.
Three times a week. Once a month.
And then I ended up with an indefinite hiatus.
Even so, I was happy.
I lost readers, but I gained the love of my wife.
I promised to marry her and asked.
“What do you think about writers who take breaks?”
“Breaks? The worst. I don’t like people who lack that sense of responsibility.”
That day, I made up my mind.
I decided to keep my past as a writer a secret from my wife.
************
Our married life was happy.
Because I truly loved her.
But as time went by, my wife’s annoyance grew.
It must have been after she debuted as a writer, I think.
Writing must have been stressful for her because she wouldn’t do anything else when she worked.
Naturally, all the housework became my responsibility.
But I’m not a free man either.
During the day, I have to help at the café my parents run.
Being the dutiful son is no easy task.
Of course, my mother complained that the undutiful son took a significant portion of my salary.
During the day, I work, and in the evening, I have to clean up the traces left by my wife.
“Honey, can’t you clean up after eating?”
“I’ll do it later.”
Before we got married, I didn’t know that my wife had a different way of living.
Her father raised her like a princess, but I am not her dad.
I thought things would get better over time.
A man and a woman who lived differently for decades.
It wouldn’t be easy to get married and try to adjust to each other’s lives.
I understood, but what bothered me was that she didn’t put any effort into adjusting.
That’s what honestly saddened me.
Then, one day, a big incident happened.
***************
“Oppa, let’s get a divorce.”
She said she wanted to focus on writing.
I had bottled up so much, and it all exploded.
“Aren’t you already focused on it right now?”
I gave everything to support her writing.
But the result was a divorce request.
Ending it like this felt unjust.
At least, shouldn’t she put in some effort too?
After all, she only thought about herself after we got married.
“I guess you really can’t understand as a non-writer…”
Yeah, that’s the problem.
My wife had this professional superiority complex because she was a writer.
That’s the problem.
My wife made everything about her being a writer.
“Didn’t I also discuss story ideas with you…?”
“But you’re not a writer, oppa.”
My wife’s response left me speechless.
I thought I knew her well, but she suddenly felt like a stranger.
“Was she like this all along?”
After being speechless.
“Fine, let’s get a divorce.”
******************
The divorce with my wife happened quickly.
Because she was the one who filed it I received some alimony, and we decided that I would keep the current house we were living in.
Maybe it was because she had a well-earning writer boyfriend now, my wife didn’t behave like a messy person anymore.
With divorce papers in hand, I went home and acted like a crazy person.
I wanted to shake off the sense of betrayal and emptiness.
After several years, I finally had some alone time.
I ordered some late-night snacks and watched the TV drama and movies I wanted.
I drank beer alone and played loud music.
I comforted my lonely soul by doing things I couldn’t do when my wife was around.
Why did I give up all these things because of my wife?
I regretted it.
I entered my wife’s study.
Her traces as an aspiring writer were all over the place.
“Writer…”
I remembered a novel I discontinued.
Sitting in front of the computer, I entered the website I used to serialize the novel.
Since we were married, we shared the same account, so it had been a long time since I logged in.
“What was the password again…”
After several failed attempts, I successfully logged in and saw the pen name.
[ Min Seong Yoon ]
Her real name, Yoon Seong Min, spelled backward.
I found one paid web novel by my pen name.
The web novel I had discontinued.
The last serial date was March 1st, 20XX.
It had been three years already.
Then, I noticed a notice written on March 31st, 20XX.
[ Min Seong Yoon here. ]
– I apologize. Due to personal reasons, I have to discontinue the serialization.
I had left a notice at the editor’s request.
[ Min Seong Yoon here. ]
– I’ll come back as soon as possible.
I had promised to come back quickly, but it had already been three years.
“Everyone must have left, right?”
When I discontinued the serialization, I received a lot of hate from readers.
It was expected.
I tried to think of myself as a romanticist who left to find love, but in reality, I was just irresponsible.
However, there was something strange about the state of my web novel.
< No.1 >
The first web novel I wrote.
The number of favorites had increased from when I last checked.
Back then, there were about 5,000 favorites.
Now, it had increased to 30,000.
The purchase count was strange too.
“It exceeded 20,000…”
I discontinued the serialization after 200 episodes, but the purchase count was abnormal.
After a while, I regained my senses.
“People are still reading this year-round?”
I went into the work and checked the comments.
– Not sure which chapter this is, but I’m starting to reread it again.
– Author, are you still alive?
– I believe you’ll come back someday.
– Read the manager’s work; you won’t regret it!
In the past, there were many curses, but now it was different.
People still remembered and waited for me, even after three years.
Sitting down, I read all the comments after a long time.
I felt grateful yet apologetic.
Regret washed over me for having left these people.
I wanted to go back.
After contemplating for a while, I began to write.
After several revisions, I left a short announcement:
[ This is Min Sung Yoon. ]
– Resuming Publication.