272 That Authors Home 7 (1/2)

Translated by: ShawnSuh

Edited by: SootyOwl

”Your new book has been drawing ma.s.sive attention since before its release, and the fact that it's your first novel since your victory over the Hugo and that it includes a photo of you only added to the hype,” the interviewer said, and Juho nodded quietly.

”Also, your portrayal of love was quite riveting. I was completely taken by surprise when I read the book myself.”

Both fans in Korea and overseas were reacting similarly to the novel, and having read an article about it ahead of time, Juho nodded.

”A lot of people were expecting and predicting that the novel was going to be about pure love.”

”So they did.”

”So, you knew?”

”I know the internet just as well as I know English.”

As if the interview had just gotten a little easier, the interviewer smiled.

”Well, what was that like? I'm sure you already knew that the product you had in your hands was quite different from what most people were expecting.”

”I knew what people were expecting from me.”

”So, you weren't all that worried about meeting their expectations, then?”

The interviewer seemed to think that the young author took no interest in what other people thought of him.

”No, I did try hard. I wrote so that I could meet my readers.”

Juho had been quite conscious of his readers, and with Juho's answer, the interview took a different turn.

”Do you write for your readers?” the interviewer asked.

”Isn't that what all authors do? A book can only be remembered if people read it. Readers are incredibly valuable to writers.”

”In that case, do you ever think to yourself that you want to give your readers what they want to see?”

”Of course. There have been times when I felt like giving the world what it wanted to see.”

As if he had expected that answer, no change appeared on the expression on the interviewer's face aside from a subtle look of interest.

”Well, what do you think? Do you think your work up to this point is consistent with the kinds of stories this world wanted to see?”

”Hm. I don't think so. They were stories that I wanted to write more so than stories that people from across the globe wanted. At the end of the day, I write for myself as well.”

Then, without looking at the notes in his hands, the interviewer said, ”Your most recent novel was about goodbyes.”

As the young author remained silent, the interviewer kept on, ”And it's implied throughout the earlier parts of the novel. There's no relations.h.i.+p with the opposite gender or any exciting encounter between two individuals anywhere. In fact, it's just the opposite. The story's about lifeforms that are growing further apart, and the only creature that is allowed to go into the boy's body is the insect. Which, to me, sounds more like a goodbye than an encounter,” the interviewer said and asked, ”So, how exactly did you want to portray love? What was the picture that you had in your mind?”

It was a relatively easy question, so Juho said, ”I wanted to write a story that was unmoving.”

With that, the interviewer moved on to the next question without hesitation, ”What brought you to do that?”

”I went to some amus.e.m.e.nt park with a romance writer I know.”

”... You don't say,” the interviewer said, looking like he needed an explanation.

”There's an author by the name of Sang Choi who is an expert when it comes to romance. We went to an amus.e.m.e.nt park once, and that's when I thought of writing about love.”

”In conjunction with goodbye?”

”Yes,” Juho said, noticing the interviewer's brow furrowing.

”I'm having trouble seeing the correlation. Aren't amus.e.m.e.nt parks typically where people are happy? How were you able to think of an idea that is so contradictory to your surroundings?” the interviewer asked, speaking slightly faster.

”He asked me about my first love,” Juho said.

”Ah, all right,” the interviewer let out, sounding more relieved, as if he had found a clue. ”That's something I'd also be interested in hearing about.”

”I hate to disappoint you, but I couldn't give him an answer.”

”How so?”

”Because I couldn't remember,” Juho said. He didn't recall feeling anxious that he hadn't been able to remember. After all, it was natural for one to forget about goodbyes. Although, it did leave a bitter aftertaste.

”I tried as hard as I could to remember, but I just couldn't for the life of me. Although, I'm pretty sure I was on cloud nine back when I was in love, and it started coming to me just how distant it had all become. On one hand, I felt like I'd matured on, but that I was a cold, heartless person on the other, which made me think to write about it.”

Then, the interviewer looked away from the young author for a little while. He had to be thinking about the book.

”In the beginning, there's a man who's leaving his hometown on a train, which is part of the outer story. He's perpetually anxious, feeling like he's forgotten something,” the interviewer said.

”Right.”

”And in light of your personal experience, would it be safe to a.s.sume that love is the thing he's forgotten about and left behind?”

Even until the end, the novel offered no explanation. Similarly, the young author decided to speak sparingly about the mystery, ”The lack of explanation in the novel was intended, but I don't see a problem with your interpretation.”

At that, the interviewer nodded for a little while and asked, ”Let's talk about the inner story for a little bit. Your portrayal of the insect stood out quite a bit. Given that it was one of the central components of the novel, you went into great detail and length about the insect, almost as if you were obsessing over it. Was the insect modeled after an actual insect?”

At that, the blueish bug came to Juho's mind.

”Yes, I actually came across it in the mountains,” he said.

”You don't know what kind it was, do you?”

”No, unfortunately. It just fell on my forehead,” Juho said, pointing at his forehead, and a slight look of disgust appeared on the interviewer's face.

”I was relaxing by the water, and something fell from the sky on my face. When I took it off my face, I saw that it was some bug. It was crawling all over me, as if I were a tree.”

”You're not afraid of bugs, are you?”