Chapter 11: Cause of Death
“We must take down all the articles immediately!”
In the office of the Head of Publishing Business at Baekhak Publishing.
A loud voice broke the early morning silence.
The owner of the voice was Yang Sung-jun, the head of the Publishing Planning Department.
“Are you not getting a bit too agitated?”
Kim Sang-guk, the director, admonished Yang Sung-jun in a dignified manner.
“I never expected that Lim Yang-wook, even in his current state, would go as far as to publish a book like this. But no matter how much of a castaway he is, isn’t it too much to take down all articles related to that book? It’s problematic to burn down the entire house just to ensure a kill. Let’s forget our personal feelings and focus on what we need to do. Lim Yang-wook, now that he’s decided to sell books in Korea, can’t behave like he used to. I assure you, soon enough, he’ll come to us with expensive alcohol, asking us to forget the past and kindly requesting our support for the future.”
Yang Sung-jun did not agree with Director Kim’s words; he listened to the end because he knew that Director Kim disliked being interrupted.
“Director. The situation doesn’t seem like it will resolve that easily.”
“Why is that?”
“Lim Yang-wook bought a literary award with money.”
“He really stooped to such vulgarity? We’ve seen it all now.”
Yang Sung-jun gritted his teeth.
“He bought sixteen at once!”
“…Have you ever seen such a madman?”
EP 1-Cause of Death
There are several ways to get a bookstore to buy books.
You could commission a popular author to write,
Pour marketing costs and spread ads nationwide,
Threaten the poor bookstore owner,
And so on.
But the simplest way is, of course –
To create a good book.
Bookstores want to stock books that readers are likely to buy, and readers want to buy good books. In this regard, the desires of readers and bookstores are not much different.
But what makes a good book?
The deeper you delve into this question, the more complex it becomes. Fortunately, there are experts in this field who take on this dilemma.
They even periodically review and publish in literary magazines which books are good.
And good books receive awards.
That’s the “literary award.”
Therefore, a book that has received a literary award is a good book.
A good book is something readers want to own.
Books that readers want to buy are purchased by bookstores.
In short, books that win literary awards sell well.
Literary awards translate to money.
In this way, literary awards have become something like a buff that adds commercial value to a book, like attaching an A+ grade to beef.
Then someone thought.
What if we sold literary awards for money?
Thus, the concept of “debut fee business” was born.
* * *
The debut fee business didn’t start for this reason alone. The law of supply and demand also played a role.
Debuting is the dream of every aspiring writer.
To be recognized as an author in Korea, one must pass a competition organized by some literary magazine, newspaper, or magazine and have their work published there.
Only then are they acknowledged as having ‘ascended’ to the literary circle and recognized as a ‘debut’ author.
Those who dare publish a book without doing so are disregarded. How dare they bypass the authority of established literature and approach the public directly?
One must show their work to the seniors in the literary circle and be recognized before they can publish a book.
This noble culture, found nowhere but in Korea and Japan, shines the light of righteousness and propriety unique to these two countries.
Even pure literature, which enlightens the path of proper conduct, is like this, let alone web-s or whatever they are called that crassly push their works directly to readers through the internet. It’s fair to say that the way of the literary world has fallen to the ground….
Anyway, this was the perception of the existing literary circle.
Literature is sacred, a light that brightens the dark world, and sometimes a power that represents the voice of the people –
– Therefore, the standards for becoming a writer must also be strict.
However, such a perception collapsed with the emergence of a new ideology. It’s not capitalism, communism, or anarchism, but rather ‘Survivalism’.
The rice jar is empty.
People are not reading books.
People only remember Son Heung-min, but there are over 200,000 soccer players in Korea. Even excluding those in soccer clubs, there are over 20,000. And among them, only around 850 make it to the professional leagues, including both the first and second divisions.
What are the rest doing?
They are fighting.
Fighting for their livelihood, reality, and dreams.
The same goes for the literary world.
People only remember a few major literary magazines. Every aspiring author dreams of debuting through them.
However, there are hundreds of minor literary magazines that also exist. They too regularly hold contests, publish stories, and help aspiring authors debut.
But even the venerable major literary magazines are crumbling under financial difficulties. If people don’t read books, why would they buy a separate book about those books?
Novels are somewhat better off. There are still dedicated fans who read them regularly. But nowadays, most people who buy poetry books are those who want to become poets themselves.
In the face of public neglect, the literary world is slowly dying.
So, there’s nothing they won’t do to survive.
That’s how the minor literary magazines started the ‘Debut Fee Business’.
Of course, they don’t blatantly sell literary awards for money. That would devalue the awards. What merchant would willingly tarnish their own products?
Instead, they contact authors who have submitted their works to contests, saying that they are likely to win but need to pay a fee to debut.
This fee could be for making the trophy,
Or for the labor cost of inviting the judges,
Or for the production cost of creating a video of the award ceremony,
Or they might say, “Now that you’ve won an award and become a debut author, shouldn’t you distribute your book to those around you? You’ve become part of our family, so we’ll give you 1.6 million won worth of books for a discounted price of 800,000 won. So, buy the books” –
– It could be for these kinds of costs.
The usual market rate is between 300,000 and 700,000 won.
Of course, those who don’t pay the fee find that a major disqualification has been discovered during additional review, leading to the cancellation of their literary award.
Conversely, by paying an extra 1 million won or so, one can receive a ‘special award’ through ‘individual review’ and become a debut author.
Ironically, this ‘Debut Fee Business’ of the minor literary magazines ended up increasing the value of the major ones.
Major literary magazines never take money. They actually give ‘prizes’ to their award winners!
There may be minor issues like taking away their work and imposing unfair contracts, but what of it?
As the fairness of minor literary magazines disappeared, the prestige and power of major literary magazines grew day by day. There’s a reason why only authors who debut through major literary magazines can enter the mainstream of the Korean literary world.
However, it’s not that authors who debut through minor literary magazines don’t get treated as authors at all.
They receive the title of ‘Author So-and-So’, are treated with respect by newspaper staff,
Join local literary clubs, chat, drink, attend events, hike, and drink. If it feels like they aren’t really doing literature, that’s a misconception.
Anyway, as the interests of the strong and weak align, the ‘Debut Fee Business’ continues to thrive.
Like ghostwriting, it’s a ‘culture’ that exists implicitly, although it’s not openly discussed.
Thus, the debut culture is being preserved.
Known by some, unknown by others.
Quietly hiding in the darkness of the Korean literary world…
* * *
“So, I bought sixteen literary awards.”
“That, that’s, that’s not, that doesn’t make, that doesn’t make any…”
Baek Seol was trembling like a leaf.
She was scared.
Of the darkness of the Korean literary world she was facing for the first time.
But more terrifying than that was Lim Yang-wook.
He bought sixteen literary awards?
Surely someone would raise an issue about it.
Baek Seol might be a bit naive, but she’s smart.
She could guess what Lim Yang-wook intended to do with those sixteen awards.
And it terrified her.
“Eek.”
To her, Lim Yang-wook brought over a box.
He opened the lid with a cheerful smile.
“Ta-da.”
Inside the box were sixteen shiny trophies.
To Baek Seol, they looked like bombs.
“Eek…!”
“What are you so surprised about, Baek Seol~ssi?”
“That, that’s…! That’s a bomb!”
Lim Yang-wook looked perplexed.
He stared at Baek Seol as if she was a strange person.
“A bomb? What are you talking about, calling these perfectly fine trophies a bomb?”
“Don’t lie! You know how many people will be hurt when it explodes!”
“Hmm…”
Lim Yang-wook smirked meaningfully, like the culprit at the end of a mystery confessing, ‘Yes, I killed them.’
“Yes. This is a bomb. You know that too, Baek Seol?”
Seeing his expression, Baek Seol was certain.
Lim Yang-wook was the darkness of the Korean literary world.
He was planning to spectacularly blow up the debut fee business and debut Moon In-seop.
“Please don’t do this, Team Leader…. Moon In-seop is just an primary school student! Writing at such a young age is truly a blessed talent! He would get applause just by appearing in front of the public!”
“I know.”
“Then why are you resorting to such extreme methods! What about YouTube? How about creating a channel and having a concept of reading books? Or appearing on a show introducing prodigies? Huh?”
“So, appearing on the 9 o’clock news wouldn’t be a problem, right?”
“Team Leader~nim!”
Lim Yang-wook sat on an old chair in a corner of the warehouse.
He crossed his legs and acted indifferent.
“Hmm… I heard the military service has gotten a bit shorter lately? It’s less than two years now, isn’t it?”
Baek Seol was angry that Lim Yang-wook was talking nonsense even in this situation, treating her as if she didn’t matter.
“Team Leader~nim! Please! Stop talking nonsense! Throwing an primary school student into the middle of media bombardment! How can someone be so cruel!”
“I was in the underground parking lot for two years, so it’s almost like I’ve done my military service.”
“…What?”
Baek Seol only now realized how long Lim Yang-wook had been using the office in the underground parking lot.
Two years.
She was speechless from the shock.
“It was better after you came in two months ago, Baek Seol. I wasn’t alone anymore, and work started going smoothly. You must have been uncomfortable being alone in a gloomy office with a guy like me, right? I won’t say sorry. After all, the company shoved you in there to make you quit quickly. We’re in a similar boat, I guess.”
“Team Leader…”
“When I first went to the parking lot, I thought I could endure it. I managed by renovating an old warehouse into an office. But after about half a year, I started losing hair. The doctor said it was stress-related hair loss.”
Lim Yang-wook absentmindedly scratched his head.
The smooth sensation still didn’t feel familiar.
Lim Yang-wook. 36 years old.
At 36, one can be called an adult.
But no adult, no person, can remain calm when their entire fortune is on the line in a gamble.
The intimate thoughts that had been building up inside Lim Yang-wook’s heart began to spill out chaotically.
“I would have been better off just setting up a desk in the corridor in front of the bathroom. Even if people laughed, I would have faced them shamelessly and fought against the world. But sitting in a dark underground parking lot, smelling exhaust fumes all day, it was driving me crazy. It felt like I was being forgotten. Nobody looked for me. And they always cut my salary, saying I was involved in some sort of appreciation or another. The worst part was wondering how long I had to live like this.”
“…….”
“Living like a madman, one day I looked in the mirror and really wanted to die. Half my hair was gone, I was dirty from not washing properly, smelly…”
Lim Yang-wook clenched his teeth.
“I couldn’t show that state to others. So, I just shaved my head. Damn it! Who am I? Aren’t I Lim Yang-wook, the ace of the Publishing Planning Department! That’s how I endured for two years, muttering to myself in the mirror every morning. I did.”
Eek.
Lim Yang-wook dusted off his trousers and stood up from the chair.
Baek Seol just watched him quietly.
He stretched briefly and then stared at Baek Seol.
“Did you say earlier that I was cruel?”
“I’m sorry. That was…”
“No, no. You’re right, Baek Seol. This world is a bit cruel. I’m also quite cruel for trying to sell books by exploiting an primary school student.”
Lim Yang-wook laughed.
First at himself,
And second at the world.
“But isn’t it funny? We gather more than a hundred kids, obsessed with becoming idols, and make them perform like dogs, but in reality, the winner is already predetermined? Or we give actresses to high-ranking people in exchange for investments? Or we turn a blind eye to directors and producers blatantly harassing young girls?”
“…What do you mean by that?”
“Every time I hear that the literary world is corrupt, I find it funny. Is it only us? Isn’t the whole world corrupt?”
Lim Yang-wook laughed heartily, finding it all amusing.
“But do you know why they don’t get criticized? Because they have money. Because they have many fans.
You know, right? If you criticize idols, their fans come swarming in, so it’s scary to even publish an article about it.
It’s just like that.
We, meaning the publishing industry, the literary world, are criticized because we don’t have fans. We are criticized because we are powerless.
That’s why I’m doing this, why we, you and I, are doing this. Let’s create a real star in this world.”
Lim Yang-wook made a promise to the frozen Baek Seol.
“I promise you this. What you’re worried about right now… People treating a young primary school student like a worthless scumbag, pointing fingers at him. That won’t happen.”
Baek Seol then realized the fact she had overlooked, pointed out by Lim Yang-wook.
“Who would think that an primary school student would do such things?”
Right. No one would think that the author himself had done these things. The person they would blame would be…
“Could it be…”
“Yes. I will take all the responsibility.”
Baek Seol had no choice but to concede to Lim Yang-wook’s words.
She had to acknowledge Lim Yang-wook, who was willing to get his hands dirty to birth a great genius for the greater good of the literary world.
Because she too was a literary person who loved literature.
Meanwhile, Lim Yang-wook avoided Baek Seol’s determined gaze.
And he reconsidered his earlier words, with a slightly different meaning.
‘Who would think that an primary school student would do such things?’
* * *
“Hey. I didn’t want to say this to an primary school student, but are you really crazy?”
“Let’s just try it once, why not?”
“…That’s not bad?”