tired of the same fanfics so ideas fill free to add are ask.

Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl


"I'm sure you must know something? Anything?" Juho asked, looking at the iced Americano in the editor's hand. However, Nam Kyung shook his head, responding to Juho's question with another set of questions, "What's with you, though? Why are you so interested?" 

Shortly after, Nam Kyung lowered his head, looking like he had had an idea, and whispered, "Is this about Mango?" 

"I can't say that you're entirely wrong." 

Mango was an aspiring writer they had met at the signing, and she was also one of the contestants of the contest hosted by Zelkova. Juho couldn't deny that her existence influenced his decision to come to Zelkova. Then, with narrowed eyes, Nam Kyung asked, "There's something else, isn't there?" 

"Another acquaintance of mine made a submission for the Rookie of the Year Award."

"... What?!" Nam Kyung said, taking his mouth off of the straw. "Who?" 

"A really talented writer." 

"No, no. That's not what I'm asking. He's a talented writer?" 

"Yes. I can definitely see him becoming an author someday."

At that, a look of interest appeared on the editor's face.

"Is that so? What are you guys? Friends?" 

"It's a secret." 

Then, letting out a long groan, the editor replied, "C'mon! We're keeping secrets now? If what you said is true, it means that friend of yours will end up working with us someday, doesn't it!?" 

"In that case, I suppose I don't have to explain any further." 

"You tend to wanna know things like that sooner! Don't you know!?" 

"Of course, I do. Why do you think I'm here?" 

The results, obviously, were still a mystery to Nam Kyung, who was chewing on his straw, tantalized. As if anxious, the editor repeated the process of taking his phone out and putting it back into his pocket, rubbing his temple with his fingers and resting his chin on his hand. Then, looking around cautiously, he said, "I do know this one thing."

"Yes?" Juho said as he drew closer to his editor. 

"It seems like there's one contestant who's received a unanimous nomination," Nam Kyung whispered, covering his mouth.

"Unanimous, huh?" 

'That's a word I haven't heard in a while,' the young author thought to himself. 

"That's right. I don't know who it is or what kind of story it is, but the judges all picked that one particular submission, which means..." Nam Kyung paused, squinting his eyes, and added, "They'll probably receive the first Rookie of the Year Award since Yun Woo." 

"There hasn't been a winner since you won that award, all the way up to last year. All the rookies so far have barely cut it, and the standards have definitely gone up since you won," he said, opening the lid of his cup and pouring the ice into his mouth. 

"We've been getting a lot of submissions from students too. At this point, it's pretty much proven that it's impossible to have your skill at that age. Sure, being younger definitely gives one an advantage, but that only applies when the quality is there. Since you won the award, there hasn't been a single winner who's a minor," Nam Kyung said, the ice crunching in his mouth. 

"Then, out of nowhere, this one contestant gets nominated by unanimous decision. Wait a minute… You don't think we're talking about the same person, do you?" 

It wasn't hard to picture Sung Pil making his debut as an author after getting nominated by unanimous decision. From then on, the room sank into silence as the two immersed themselves in thought. Then, Nam Kyung broke the silence, pounding on the desk, "Hope Mango doesn't get her feelings hurt." 

If what Juho was thinking was actually true, it meant that Mango would have to remain an aspiring writer a little longer.

"But we don't know what her piece is like. At which point, there's only so much we can do." 

"There are over fifteen hundred submissions for the Rookie of the Year Award alone." 

Nam Kyung didn't know any of the names of the contestants or anything about the stories they had written for that matter. Each contestant had had their own life story when they had made their submission. Unfortunately, only one was chosen to be the winner. 

"If you're that curious, why don't you try Mrs. Baek? She's one of the judges this year," Nam Kyung said.

"I'm planning to go see her today, actually." 

"Huh. That was quick." 

Then, checking the time, the editor rose from his seat. The two went outside to the quiet street for a walk. Aside from the people who were going and out of the building occasionally, there was hardly anybody around. The contrast was quite stark with a certain time in the past. Only then, did it occur to the young author that the street could be that quiet and uneventful. 

"Pretty quiet today," Juho said. 

"It's a weekday." 

The streets tended to be much quieter during the week. Then, as the the publisher's building appeared in the distance again, the two stopped in their tracks to catch a cab. 

"Would you like some books while you're here? You're free to take whichever books you want."

"It's fine. I better get going. I wouldn't want us to get surrounded by the crowd. Besides, what if somebody sees me and decides that they want to shout my name out loud?" 

"That's when you get in that taxi and make a run for it," Nam Kyung said playfully. At that moment, Juho's concern became a reality as somebody shouted his name out loud. 

"It's Yun Woo!" 

Until Juho heard Nam Kyung flustered voice, the young author was under the impression that he had been hearing things. Fortunately, there was nobody else around when he looked around. As the voice scattered into the air, the person to whom the voice belonged approached Juho and the editor in haste, wearing a look of disbelief.

"You really are Yun Woo, right!?" the man asked. His gray cap, which looked a tad too small for the wearer's head, caught the young author's eyes. 

"Yes, I am. Pleasure to meet you," Juho said, well acquainted with encounters like that by that point. Meanwhile, the man still looked like he couldn't believe things, as though having come face to face with his destiny. 

"Au… Could I ..." 

"Would you like an autograph?"

"Yes! Please!" 

With that, the man went through his bag without a delay and pulled out a stack of manuscript paper, a lot of which seemed to have been used. Flipping through the pages in a hurry, the man finally found a clean page. Of course, at the sight of all that, Juho couldn't resist asking, "Do you write?" 

"Yes. I'm an aspiring writer. I've recently made a submission to the contest too," the man said with an hesitant smile. 

From Mango to Sung Pil, and now, the man in a gray hat. There was only one explanation for why Juho was running into aspiring writers so often: to have other writers as colleagues. Taking the stack of manuscript from the man, Juho signed his autograph on it. 

"What brings you here?" 

"I wanted to visit Zelkova," the man in the gray hat said awkwardly. The dark patch on his chin was telling Juho that he had not shaved.

"Were you on your way there?" Juho asked.

"Oh, no."

"Oh, so you've already been there then." 

At that, the man smacked his lips for a brief moment, as if having a lot to say. However, what came out of his mouth was a rather short sentence, "No. I think looking from afar is quite enough for me." 

It was an excuse similar to one Juho had previously used. After signing, Juho closed the stack of paper out of habit. Of course, reading what it was also part of that same habit. As the man in a gray hat reached out, expecting to get it back from Juho, he was caught off guard by the young author's question.

"Would you mind if I read it?" 

"I'm sorry?" 

After some contemplation, the man nodded affirmatively, and Juho saw his editor, who was standing behind him, taking interest in the matter. Not minding whether the editor was reading over his shoulders or not, Juho read through the words on the pages of the manuscript. It was the beginning of the story, just enough to get a feel for the direction in which the story was headed. Seeing as though it was keeping the young author guessing, the story seemed quite promising, making Juho want to read more of it.

"You know what? I'm genuinely curious about what happens afterward," Juho said. At that, a strong emotion welled up on the man's face. 

"That's the one," he said, clearly sounding excited. "That was my submission." 

Hearing that, Juho thought of his friend and Mango.

"This is my last hurrah. If this falls through, I'm gonna have to look elsewhere," the man said, sounding like he was pleading for something. "Do you think I have a chance of winning?" 

The question came to Juho as a heavy burden, and the autograph on the manuscript felt irrelevant all of a sudden. The man had specifically described his writing as being his last. Although Juho had no clue why that had to be, he did know that he wanted to read the rest of the story and understand it. Then, the man repeated himself, asking, "Do you think I have a chance?" 

It was a question Juho couldn't give an answer to. Not only was he not a judge, but he hadn't read the entire story, either. It wouldn't be fair to take sides. Them, Juho locked eyes with the man in a gray hat. Although his eyes looked nothing like Sung Pil's or Mango's, he was certainly looking in the same direction as the two. 

"Uh-oh. That's our cue. We better get going, Mr. Woo," Nam Kyung interjected, looking over the man's shoulders. There was a crowd of people, who seemed to be getting a tour of the publishing district, approaching them. As Nam Kyung grabbed Juho by the arm, the young author said to the man in a hurry, "Good luck. I'll be rooting for you."

At which, the man looked down briefly and replied with a satisfied smile, "Thank you." 

By the time Juho looked back, the man had long blended into the crowd. Nevertheless, his gray hat made him relatively easy to distinguish from afar as he was the only person wearing it. Juho stood in his place, watching him until he had completely disappeared into the distance.

---

"I'm here, Mrs. Baek." 

Juho arrived at Yun Seo's house, his mind still lingering in the encounter with the man in the gray hat. On his way there, Juho asked himself if there was any way he would have been able to offer a better answer to the aspiring writer's question. 

In the end, Juho never reached an answer. Knowing that they would most likely never cross paths again, Juho couldn't help but feel a little sad, almost to the point of wishing that the man in the gray hat would win. At which point, the image of Sung Pil's and Mango's faces lingered before the young author's eyes. The clutter was proving to be quite bothersome, making Juho anxious to know who the winner was even more, just so he could get out of that state of mind. 

At that moment, a dog barked in the distance, and hearing that well known sound, Juho felt a little calmer. Then, the door opened, and Joon Soo, who Juho hadn't seen since the outing at Madame Song's, came out to greet him with a glad smile. However, Juho stared intently at him and asked out of nowhere, "It was you, wasn't it?"

"What are you talking about?" Joon Soo asked, caught off guard, clueless.

"Mr. Lim?" Juho said, giving him a subtle hint.

"Ah, right." 

Joon Soo had been the one to inform Hyun Do about Juho, which had caused Juho to receive an unexpected call from the literary great.

"Do you have any idea how taken aback I was? I couldn't even answer the phone, either."

"Sorry, it just kind of came out while we were eating… Wait, you couldn't answer it?" 

"I was in the middle of writing."

"That's unfortunate. But in my defense, I only said as much as I heard from Dong Gil. Besides, Dong Gil's not the type to rave on about something like that, you know? What I'm trying to say is that I know practically nothing. Anyway, let's go inside!" Joon Soo said. 

It being the space where she taught her students, Yun Seo's house was spacious, comfortable, and always well-maintained. Sitting at the table, which he hadn't seen in a long time, Juho asked, "Is Mrs. Baek not home?" 

"She'll be here in a minute."

"What about Geun Woo?"

"He's out."

Going into the kitchen, Joon Soo brought out a couple of cups. Then, going back into the kitchen, Joon Soo asked as he checked the refrigerator, "We have some mangos. Would you like some?"

"Mangos, huh," Juho answered, his voice gradually sinking. 

"Oh, do you not like mangos?"

"I do. I'm just not in the mood today, I guess." 

"... Still a little confused, but if you say so. Oh! I really enjoyed 'Alexandria!'"

"How was it? It didn't turn out too bad for the amount of time I spent meandering, right?" 

"It turned out incredible! Very, very interesting read. It felt like I discovered Yun Woo's unique sense of wit," Joon Soo said, tapping a mug three times. There was clattering noise mixed in between his words. Bringing out what he described as Schisandra tea, Joon Soo brought a tray out to him. The house felt quite cool since the hallway was well ventilated.

"You must've been busy. You're a celebrity."

"You're asking me? What about you?" 

"I've been busy with a manuscript gig. I was taking a short break." 

"I've been the same, more or less." 

Then, Juho brought up a thought that had occurred to him, "Oh! I heard your book's getting released in the US! Congratulations!"

"Hehe, thanks." 

"I'm sure it'll do well." 

"You know what? That sounds really good coming from you. You sold the entire first edition within two months." 

Joon Soo was referring to 'An Insect Leaves No Trace,' which had drawn massive attention for the printing of its first edition starting at a whopping one million copies. Now, only two months later, the second edition was already in print. Meanwhile, seeing as though Juho wasn't showing any response, Joon Soo said, "But it seems like you haven't changed a bit."

"There isn't really a reason to."

"Honestly, if you're doing that well, it couldn't hurt to enjoy yourself a little bit, don't you think? 

"Joon Soo, you know we don't get luxuries like that." 

As soon as an author let their success get to their head, they quickly found their success threatened by other writers who wrote pieces that were just as, if not more, competent. The moment they stopped moving forward, everything became the past, and authors, of all people, had to be well aware of that. Then, a thought occurred to the young, 'Maybe rooting for those aspiring writers is all I can do because I, myself, am an author. Maybe I'm keeping them in check.' Then, seeing Joon Soo looking into the distance as if lost in thought, Juho asked, "Why? Did Geun Woo write something mind-blowing?" 

Juho was aware that Geun Woo was in the middle of writing a story, and the young author was also aware that the story was about him. 

"Yeah, he did," Joon Soo said without hesitation, catching Juho off guard.

"... Did he?" Juho said, studying Joon Soo's expression. Because of his mouth, which naturally curved upward, Joon Soo appeared as if he was always smiling, making it hard to distinguish if he was joking or if he was serious at times. Yet, there was a part of Juho that was accepting the statement as truth. He knew that Geun Woo had what it took to be able to pull off a story like that. 

"Sigh," Joon Soo let out. The red liquid in the mug had somewhat of an alarming look to it. 

"Seems like our club is going international."

"That would be great," Joon Soo said, sipping his tea. From then on, the two authors drank their tea in silence, each retreated into his own mind. Meanwhile, Joon Soo stared at a leaf, which was blowing gently in the breeze. "This takes me back to when you first debuted."

Yum Woo is the youngest author in history to enter the literature world. His debut work was a massive hit but this success was short lived for the unprepared.

A miraculous second chance comes his way one day.

This is the beginning of that journey.

Readers Choice Awards is an annual contest where the world's best books are put for voting to the readers, that's why it has been named as READERS choice awards. We have been closely watching the voting process of this award. We realised that worldwide readers of the books which had been nominated participated for this contest to vote for their favourite books. The founder of Motivational Strips said 'A book is as good as a reader loves to read them". This statement plays vital role in today's world of books. Every year hundreds of thousands of book get published but the writers acumen in keeping the mind of the reader occupied is what takes a book to the threshold of success.
Thus this contest year on year is to win the POPULAR CATEGORY amidst the RC awards. Every reader looks at this aspect, year on year to see who takes the stakes for this category. The commercial value of a book comes to the public front when the Readers decide the winners. The authors who get nominated from across the globe are selected on the basis of their reader base and acceptance in the literary world. Every author trues hard to win the 'Popular Category' because only this category can reflect the authentic global readers verdict. It reveals the content quality, value, and marketability of a book to other readers. This category is very difficult to win, as the decision-makers are real readers. The readers judge the book best. So only those books which get read by them makes it to the top in this category. It's the toughest category and the most authentic one.
Apart from that, there are also commercial categories, which may be complimentary. They are not based on readers decisions but on the discretion of the of someone magazines. They are given away in kind to encourage and not disappoint some privileged ones who are loyal to these magazines. The readers are never taken into decision and are chosen by the magazine authorities. Though this category doesn't have much relevance, but helps many upcoming writers to get their reader base commenced. It's a honorary appreciation that are given away in surplus to the participants. (These Categories are awarded normally to encourage participants and based on good relations with the home magazine). All award committees in the world keep such categories to keep their entity running. The world needs to uplift some upcoming writers too.
We are glad to announce the top three winners and the top seven participants who made it this year to READERS CHOICE AWARDS 2020 IN THE POPULAR CATEGORY. The top three winners and the seven participants are as below.
TITLE OF BOOK
READERS VOTES
1. Stories that Intrigue - Brenda Mohammed (Romance Category)
Total Readers Voted - 1013
(Gold Winner) - Overall Votes
(Gold Winner) - Romance Category
2. The Ghost Wisdom - Shiju H. Pallithazheth (Non-Fiction Category)
Total Readers Voted - 670
(Silver Winner) - Overall
(Gold Winner) - Non-Fiction Category
3. Written in Water - Lesley Hayes (Other Fiction Category)
Total Readers Voted - 449
(Bronze Winner) - Overall
(Gold Winner) - Other Fiction Category
Finalists Of Popular Category ( These books didn't make it as Winners among the global mass, However, some of them have been awarded honorary Readers Choice awards upon the discretion of the magazine to motivate them. So for those who got the honorary titles, we express our heartfelt congratulations)
4. Sparky - Millie Slavidou
Total Readers Voted - 331
5. The Shimmer - Sylva Fae Total Readers Voted 247
6. A Year in the life of Leah- Lucinda Clarke
Total Readers Voted - 245
7. To Target the Heart - Andrea Alien Total Readers Voted - 189
8. Irma's Endgame - Paulette Mathurin
Total Readers Voted - 187
9. Chronicles of Fen Cermain -Y.W. Lumaris
Total Readers Voted - 139
10. The Mouse in the Hammock - Bethany Brevard
Total Readers Voted - 123
The source of this data as attached is obtained from the Award Voting portal.
Please share this post and let the world of readers know which best books got published in the year 2020. It would guide them to buy the best of the world as above and adorn their book collection.

Grand Hall.

"Judges?"

"Alright, the finals is over."

"Alright, the score has already been tallied."

"I announce that this year's champion for the Beijing Couplet Competition is...Teacher Zhang Ye!"

As the host finished announcing, the audience erupted into applause. There were even screams of praise; it was a very lively scene. Onstage, many of those participants, who had lost convincingly, stood up to applaud Zhang Ye. Some even gave him a thumbs up! There was no other way, Zhang Ye had garnered all the praises. This had been the strangest couplet competition in recent years. Why strange? Does it need to be explained? All the questions had been answered by Zhang Ye alone. That's why Zhang Ye was the only winner. There was no 1st runner-up or 2nd runner-up. All the other 49 contestants had 0 points!

Doesn't this deserve all the applause?

Doesn't this deserve all the respect?

Only Big Thunder did not move; he did not applaud!

Zheng Anbang and the others from the Beijing Writers’ Association were not looking so good. None of them applauded Zhang Ye, but instead lowered their heads and did their own things. They were too petty!

When Zhang Ye saw this sight, he smiled coldly.

The female host smiled. "Let's invite Teacher Zhang up onto the stage to receive the award."

Zhang Ye stood up, went around the side and proceeded towards the stage. He smiled at both of the hosts.

At the side, Elder Qian and the other two judges also walked up. The trophy was prepared beforehand, but they had prepared three trophies to be brought up. Elder Qian held one in his hands; the other two were not of use anymore. Honestly, this was the first time that they had to present an award for such a dominating performance. One person had dominated and finished off all of his opponents. This was an unprecedented happening in all of the competition's history.

"Teacher Little Zhang, congratulations." Elder Qian handed him the trophy.

Zhang Ye accepted it and said, "Thank you for the affirmation of the Teacher judges."

Elder Qian smiled. "It is not our affirmation. This is the glory of your victory. And I believe without me saying, this is a Couplet Competition where the victor is known without any suspense!"

The audience laughed. Yes, this was really was one without any suspense!

The female host said, "Teacher Zhang, say a sentence or two for your acceptance speech?"

"Well, are you sure you want me to say it?" Zhang Ye blinked his eyes.

The male host was surprised. What was there to be sure about? Doesn't every winner of an award say an acceptance speech? Thanking friends, thanking leaders, thanking parents, stuff like that?

But the female host knew the meaning behind Zhang Ye's words, "This..."

"Alright then, I'll say something." Zhang Ye turned to face everyone, and paused for a moment. He said, "I recall.. that someone said I cheated?"

Everybody laughed, treating it as a joke.

Only the people from the Beijing Writers’ Association had ugly expressions. They were thinking, "Aren't you done? Why do you still mention the past? Why are you so petty?"

But in fact, Zhang Ye was a petty person. The more people did not want him to mention something, the more this fellow would mention it. "I want to know who reported me, and I want to ask the comrade from the Beijing Writers’ Association who came on stage a while ago saying I cheated. The judges and comrades from the Couplet Organization had not investigated, and had eventually allowed my participation, but why did you say it in such a certain fashion that I cheated?" He stared at the youth from the Writers' Association offstage, "Shouldn't you apologize to me? This is just the most basic respect, right?"

The youth stared at him with a darkened expression. F**k, apologize, me? Based on what!?

A woman from the Couplet Organization looked at him, "Little Wu, you should really apologize."

"Apologize, Little Wu." Yet another person from the Couplet Organization said. "This is a live broadcast. Everyone is watching. What you previously said onstage was indeed inappropriate. It was too arbitrary and it impacts Teacher Zhang's reputation. It is only because Teacher Zhang Ye reversed the situation, proving that he did not cheat, that the outcome has not become disastrous. Just a few words of yours was enough to destroy a person!"

The youth named Wu did not move. He shut his eyes stubbornly.

Zhang Ye laughed, "Since it's a Couplet Competition today, it's alright if you don't apologize. I'll give you a couplet."

Give a couplet?

Why are you giving a couplet now?

Everyone was stunned and was curious as to what Zhang Ye would say.

The next moment, Zhang Ye said, "Mice, old or young, we call them 'old' (老, lǎo).” Because they are all called mice (老鼠, lǎoshǔ)!

With the next verse, Zhang Ye smiled. "Turtles, male or female, they are surnamed Wu (乌)!" Because they are all called turtles (乌龟, wū guī, also used as a vulgarity, like bastard)!

The youth whose surname was Wu nearly vomited blood! Grand Uncle Zhang Ye! You are too f**king ruthless! He was so angry that he nearly cried out! His face was green! This is a live broadcast program! There were hundreds of thousands of people watching! He scolded him in public? The youth wanted to bury his own head somewhere! He had thought that if he had just refused to apologise, nothing could be done about it. 

But he had forgotten that this person was not any ordinary person. This was that Zhang Ye who had publicly scolded his Leaders at the Silver Microphone Awards! Venomous person! Venomous mouth! His heart was the most venomous! At this moment, the youth really felt regretful. He was numb. If he had known, he would have gone forward to apologise!

The male host was stupefied, "Teacher Zhang!"

The female host, in turn, was not surprised at all. She knew of Zhang Ye's misdeeds before, so she quickly gave him a nudge on his shoes with her feet and whispered, "Teacher, you......"

The audience was also stunned!

But Zhang Ye still had more to say, "This year, I was invited by the Beijing Writers’ Association to participate in this competition. To be able to win it, I would like to thank them, too. Thank you for always supporting me, Writers' Association. I also have a couplet for you all." After saying all that, he immediately said, "A bull's head hopes to grow a pair of dragon's horns."

This sentence was quite usual; no one had a problem with it.

But Zhang Ye's second verse nearly made everyone faint, "But have you ever seen elephant tusks growing out of a dog's mouth (when have you seen a mean fellow speak of nice things)!"

The Beijing Writers’ Association's Leader and members, ".........."

People from the Couplet Organization were covering their mouths and laughing; this was too interesting. The scolding was too wicked!

Of course, Zhang Ye wanted to scold. From the moment he participated, it could be seen that none of those from the Beijing Writers’ Association had pure intentions. They had made it difficult for him from the beginning, resorting to all sorts of tricks. If not for Zhang Ye's wit, his reputation would have been wrecked. His career path would have been cut off. If the accusation of cheating was not proven otherwise, then he wouldn't have been able to clear his name at all. Didn't this justify his revenge? He naturally wanted to take back what was his!

Scolding others?

It's not like I f**king never scolded!

So what if it was live? You are the people I'm cursing!

At this moment, the Beijing Writer's Association's Vice-President Meng Dongguo had come forth from the backstage. He had heard Zhang Ye publicly scolding their Writers' Association. In his moment of rage, he didn't care that this was a live broadcast anymore. He snatched a microphone and argued with Zhang Ye, "Zhang Ye, you are good at couplets, aren't you? Then I will give you a question, too. Listen up! Two apes breaking branches deep in the forest; a little monkey dares to have seen it, too?" This was a homonymic first verse. ‘Seen it too’ was equivalent to matching a couplet; he was scolding Zhang Ye!

Zhang Ye was overjoyed. This first verse was also remembered when he was searching his memories. He immediately retorted, "Then you listen up, too! A horse steps into dirty mud; how can the old beast (bast**d) raise its hooves!" Raise its hooves was equivalent to giving a question!

"Alright!"

"So beautifully matched!"

"Hahahaha! I'm so amused!"

"Teacher Zhang Ye is a god!"

The audience could not help but laugh out loud!

Meng Dongguo, "....&%#@*) *&@@! ! !"

Vice-President Meng's couplet-matching skill was not that deep, otherwise he would have taken part. He could not match Zhang Ye at it, which is why he lost the moment he attacked!

But Zhang Ye did not let him off, "Since you gave me a question, then I shall give you a question, too. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7!"

Eh?

What's this question about?

There were rarely couplets that stopped at 7. If he wanted to give the first verse, shouldn't it be 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8? Why did he forget about the 8?

Zhang Ye then looked at him, "Can't match it? Then let me give you the second verse. Xiào tì zhōng xìn lǐ yì lián (filial piety, respect, loyalty, trust courtesy, uprightness, honesty)!"

That was not right!

The second verse was not correct either!

Xiào tì zhōng xìn lǐ yì lián (filial piety, respect, loyalty, trust courtesy, uprightness, honesty)? What about shame? Why is shame not in there?

But who can be a fool for long? A few contestants thought for a moment and quickly analyzed the metaphor of this couplet, "The first verse had forgotten about 8?  The second verse lacked a shame? This is.... forgetting 8 lacking shame (bast**d with no shame)? F**k!"

Bast**d?

No shame?

Meng Dongguo nearly exploded with anger! Zhang! You are scolding people now?

The male host, nervous with sweat, hurriedly tried to talk them out of an argument, "Our two Teachers, the two of you, say less, say less. The cameras are still...." This is what you called literary people! Their scolding didn't even have any vulgarities in them!

Meng Dongguo didn't care anymore. He said directly to Zhang Ye, "In such a setting, you publicly scolded the Beijing Writers’ Association, insulted our Writers' Association's staff, insulted the people who invited you? Well, well, now I can put it clearly here: a person like you, even if you are a talent, our Beijing Writers’ Association will never have you!"

Isn't this the pot calling the kettle black?

And you act like everything about you was correct?

When you wanted to step on me, you just stepped! When I fought back? All of you began using reasoning to press me down? Just because you are the authoritative body? So that makes you reasonable? What the heck!

Zhang Ye was extremely bemused, holding the microphone, looking at all those angry and speechless Beijing Writers’ Association's members. He said his last words, a doggerel. Its origins were from a famous crosstalker in his previous world - Guo Degang. Guo Degang's doggerels were considered one of a kind, with them being highly controversial. The one that he used to scold the Beijing Radio Station's Leader had especially attracted all sorts of criticisms from industry insiders. But today, Zhang Ye had selected another one of Teacher Guo's doggerels. It was written by Guo Degang after he was uninvited by the New Year's Gala organizers. It had a very special feel and was also very meaningful.

"Madness and ailing grass, difficulty in discerning. The plum blossoms seemed trimmed, coldness outside the walls. The icy sky is like jade, the silver branches seemed buried as dust. Pushing the blanket into the snow, open your eyes and stop acting nice, returning after traveling the Jiang province, with the poem done and alcohol drunk, the world seems small."

Up to here, many had not understood it.

What poem was this? Was it a doggerel?

Zhang Ye even knew doggerels? This was really the first time they had heard about it!

But after hearing the final part of Zhang Ye's poem, they finally understood and laughed out loud, "Embracing beauty, lamenting how life is all about fame and fortune." At this point, Zhang Ye narrowed his eyes and looked towards Meng Dongguo and the people from the Writers' Association. "Open your drunken eyes slightly. No matter how you succeed or fail..." With a laugh, "It's not like I'll come!"

It's not like I'll come?

They said that they were not going to invite him into the association! And he came up with such a doggerel?

Hahaha! What a good "it's not like I'll come"! A lot of the audience members were tickled by this!


Zhang Ye was originally a mundane college graduate with aspiring dreams to become a star, but unfortunately has below average looks and height. However one day, he woke up and suddenly found himself in a parallel world! 
It’s like the same world, but wait a minute…many brands, celebrities and even famous works from his world changed and are gone in this new world! Armed with the profound literary knowledge of his previous world and a heaven-defying Game Ring that gives him magical items, stats and skills, Zhang Ye embarks on a journey to pursue his life-long dream of becoming famous!
Follow Zhang Ye as he takes the new world by storm, one plagiarized piece at a time, to hilarious reactions!

The sunglasses system brought great benefits to Tang En.

    For example, Glenn Feyero, project evaluation 94, casting 97, these two producers are enough to kill all Hollywood gold producers!

    However, production: 0.

    Turns out to be a stupid person who doesn't even have a little bit of production ability. Such a person can mix the position of producer or production assistant in Hollywood?

    Stupid person dreaming!

    But Tang En is not the same. He can appoint Glenn Fayero as a production assistant, and only need to borrow his super high value of "project evaluation" and "casting".

    After spending an entire afternoon, Tang En finally sorted out his royal team——

    production assistants: Morgan Carey, Glenn Fello,

    director assistants of Irene Carey : David Knight, Eyre Bull Smith, Andy Thompson,

    Market Analyst: Andrew O'Hare,

    Art Analyst: Manora Dages,

    Screenwriter: Dickon Whistler, Bryce Roach, Nia Vadalas,

    Photography: Alice Silk Moore, Vincent Bolton

    Lights ...

    Town recorded 42 names on paper.

    Of course, this is by no means the entire crew of a crew. They are just Tang En's core team members. Once shooting a blockbuster, additional temporary crew members need to be recruited to expand the crew to a hundred or two hundred people.

    The 42 carefully selected candidates by Tang En will inevitably accompany him to the peak of life in their respective positions.

    Dunn called George Paxton and handed the paper over. "Contact the 42 people right away. If it's out of town, travel expenses are reimbursed. In the name of Tangen Pictures and me, I will say ... Donn Walker invites They came to Hollywood to create brilliant! "

    ...

    Tang En's candidates are those from the bottom of life who have the opportunity to come to work in the now well-known Tang En Pictures, who can come to Hollywood to find a dream, who will refuse?

    Three days later, all 42 people were in place and none were absent!

    After a brilliant speech, everyone officially became a member of Tang En Films.

    Tang En called his market analyst Andrew O'Hare, art analyst Manora Dages, and three screenwriters to his office.

    These five people will become Tang En's most core team in film in the future.

    Dickon Whistler is good at writing action, war, and historical drama; Bryce Roach is good at science fiction, mystery, and reasoning; Nia Vadalas is a woman who is good at family, ethics, comedy, and feminine orientation. works.

    The three screenwriters took the long and short stories, and the two analysts picked the wrong to create an excellent script.

    Tang En now needs to hurry up and come up with a project, complete the filming, and then release it next year, hit the stage with "Blade Warrior".

    This project cannot be invested too high, but it needs a very wide audience and an excellent box office to complete the crushing of "Blade Warrior". Tang En naturally thought of the classic comedy "The Hangover".

    "I'll make a long story short. The company now needs to make a movie as soon as possible and it will be released next year. So now we need to set up a project as soon as possible and write a script ..."

    Before Tang En's words fell, Bryce Roach interrupted him "Boss, since you're in a hurry, why write a new story? It takes at least two or three months to write a success story?"

    "Huh?" Tang En frowned, "What do you mean?"

    Bryce Roach said:. "a ready-made ah, we are registered in the writers' union,"

    Dunn react, blinked, "you mean ... you are registered at the writers Guild screenplay?"

    "Yes ah."

    three The screenwriters nodded.

    Tang En sighed, these three screenwriters have superb story writing ability, but the market vision is really bad. Can they write a good story without the help of a market analyst?

    Tang En didn't believe it, but after all it was the first time to meet, and it was not good to dispel their enthusiasm. "Well, tell me, what scripts have you written."

    Bryce Roach laughed: "I wrote one The detective script "Men in Black" ... "

" No! "Andrew O'Hair interrupted immediately." It is not the 1950s or 1960s. This traditional type of detective film has no box office market. "

    Bryce · Roach's face changed, a little angry.

    Tang En rightly said: "Andrew is my deserved market analyst and the highest authority of the company's current film market analysis. He said no, it must not!"

    Andrew O'Hair smiled and gave Tang En a grateful look, Bryce Roach grinned and said nothing more.

    Dickon Whistler, with a screenwriter ability of 99, was stuttering, "I ... I won't ... don't say much, here ... this is the script."

    Tang En took the script, and the cover page read "Scarlet Residue" Shadow ", a very sad name.

    Except for Dickon Whistler, several others gathered around to read the script.

    The script is a concise version with more than twenty pages. Tang En turned it over for half an hour and then sighed.

    It really is a good story!

    This script tells the story of an American veteran.

    He was a hero of the Gulf War. After being shot in the leg and amputated on his right leg, he was praised by Congress, returned to his home town, and received a warm welcome from the town's people.

    He is a hero, he is the pride of the town!

    However, he has only one leg and he is a slope.

    Without a job, he was willing to use a blood-stained and murderous handicapped man with a hand, and his child suffered cold eyes and bullying at school, mocking his father for being a bitch.

    He wanted to attend the wedding of the old classmate, but was turned away because the old classmate's family did not want the bloody body on him to affect the happiness of the newlyweds.

    He was a war hero defending his country, but he was subjected to all kinds of discrimination and indifference. He was disheartened, and he was miserable.

    However, even more distressing happened, he found that his beloved wife was derailed ...

    he was angry, he picked up a shotgun, killed the adulterer, wanted to destroy the body, but was discovered by his neighbor. In desperation, he killed his neighbor's family, but more people discovered his crime.

    Kill!

    He set off the killing of the entire town.

    The final result was that he looked at the child's sad eyes and chose to commit suicide ...

    "The story is very good." Art analyst Manola Dages nodded admiringly, "If you modify a few points, let the anti-war theme Deeper and more human reflection, you can go to Europe to get the highest award at the film festival. Choose a suitable actor and hope to nominate an Oscar for the best actor. "

    Tang En frowned slightly. What he needs now is not to win the prize, but to the box office. !! Unconsciously, he looked at Andrew O'Hare.

    This script has definitely not been made into a movie in the previous life. What is the specific market prospect, Tang En is not sure.

    Andrew O'Hair groaned for a while and shook his head: "This is not in line with American values. Fans don't like this theme and don't like too complicated a human turn. Even if it is a very exciting action movie, the North American box office must be poor. Overseas The box office can be expected. "

    Dickon Whistler was unwilling." I ... I can ... repair ... modify ... "

    Tang En waved his hand." There is something wrong with the subject matter of this script, and there is no need to get too involved. Nia, you What about? "

    Niya Vadalas is in her thirties and has big eyes. She is an extra actor who has been running a series of tricks in various major crews, using her spare time to create a script.

    Now she joins Tang En Films. She has a stable job and a good monthly salary. She doesn't want to suffer the pain of running a dragon.

    "My script is also here, Tang En, let's take a look."

    Dragon actors are also actors, and their ability to please leaders is very high. Nia Vadalas put the script lightly on Tang's hand, and his chest full of "unconsciousness" crossed his arm.

    Tang En glanced at her, and immediately saw a strange light shining in her glorious eyes.

    "Ahem ..."

    Tang En quickly covered up. In the office, he was not good at flirting with female subordinates in the presence of so many subordinates, took a look at the script, and his eyes narrowed.

    "My Big Fat Greek Wedding"!

    Looking at Nia Vadaras's face, Tang En vaguely feels familiar, no wonder ... she turned out to be the screenwriter and starring of "My Grand Greek Wedding"!

    A few years younger, it really has more style than in the movie ...

    "Well? Has my appearance changed her future life track?"

    Tang En couldn't help but be a little funny.

    But what's the future of being an 18-line actress? Might as well be my royal screenwriter ...

Rebirth in hollywood will use his knowledge of the future to be the king of hollywood.

`` translated chinese novel``

some words may be wrong i don't speak chinese i'm using google translator.

I have no obligation to translate everything very well, I am not being paid for it.

I can read even with this problem

Going back to 2008, Gao Bo became the head coach of Luton Town who was deducted 30 points at the beginning of the season.

At the beginning of the season, 30 points were deducted. It is almost a team that is considered to be relegated. Gao Bo used his football knowledge and football card system that he had more than ten years more than others.

Under the circumstances that everyone thought it was impossible, it was a miracle. Such a successful upgrade started his legendary journey to become the best coach in the world.




(translated chinese novel)

To write is to live, such is the rule many authors abide by. Sure, some may only be in it for the money. They may be talented, but such a mindset only paves a shapeless road. Writing is not a shortcut to fame. It is not a skill to be belittled in a world of great medium. It is the very core of communication. The words, the languages, the meanings… they wouldn't occur if it weren't for the existence of the pen and paper, of the ability to speak.
However, to many, words on paper are still words written on paper. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. Spoken words are not so much different from written words. If one's heart is really into it, then it is enough to convey emotions through it, to trigger a response in them. It has been proven to be true many times by successful authors.
At some point in time, literature was, by far, the most predominant form of entertainment. Even with the changes of time and the growth of the newfound medium, the art of words was never forgotten.
Writing is, in itself, art. A host of imagination. Its very origin is literal art — the earliest form of writing were pictorial signs, born out of imagination, drawn in a complex compound form to express meaning. That didn't stop with its development into the words of the modern world. Behind every word is a shape, a message, a sound.
Imagination doesn't stop there though.
With imagination and words, authors were able to create believable worlds out of ink. From fantastical lands to nightmarish hellscapes.
That being said, beneath all this romanticism, writing words may just be writing words.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
But not in this world, it's not.
Not in Neverland.
In Neverland, the bridge between reality and fables, words were enchanted, marking the threshold of a world of fables turned to reality.
 
※※※
 
— This is really good, huh.
She took another bite.
— Yea, this is really really good. How could anyone make something this delish?
The food in question was not really something special. To anyone born in the city, it was Heaven on Earth — it was one of its only special "dishes" after all — but to the outside world, to reality, it was an odd hybrid.
The young girl wiped the rice off her chin and proceeded to grab yet another piece. The texture of this rice round-shaped food was saturated, thanks to the seaweed covering it. Each piece had different fillings. For example, the one the young girl just finished was filled with grilled salmon cream cheese. She could not believe how anyone could hide all this taste behind a layer of rice.
As for the other one…
She took a bite.
There was this certain thick and sweet layer of mayonnaise, followed by a familiar oily taste. It certainly wasn't meat or chicken, she was sure of it, as it was milder and more tender.
— Aha!! Tuna fish!
After this great mystery was finally solved, the girl proceeded to eat and smile as if she had just won the greatest award of the century. But of course, that victory would be short-lived. No one can rest on the job like this after all.
Even under the tree in the secluded spot on the hill where the girl was, the sun still managed to peep in. It struck her eyes for a moment, reminding her of the scorching weather surrounding her. Cold food wasn't going to suffice.
Autumn was on the horizon. Yet, the sun stood tall in the sky as it owned it, and the weather was as blistering as it would be on a summer's day. It wasn't going to let up anytime soon.
The girl remembered the forecast advising people to stay at their houses for the day. But, with or against her will, that did not apply to a student like her. She was to be stuck outside on this hill till her job was done. And at the pace she went at — eating, distracting herself — she wasn't going home any time soon.
— Alrighty!
She finished the last piece of Maruyone, what the locals called that food here, and lightly slapped both her cheeks to focus before starting to observe the scenery before her.
— Let's get this over with!
On this hill, the city of Pontemus was visible in all its glory. It was the pride of Neverland — and quite frankly, its only metropolis. From this point, the girl was able to see the Tower of the Hundred, which was way off on the other side of the city. She felt lucky for picking a clever vantage point such as this one.
The architecture of the city was… odd. Despite being as modern as it would get, there was still a sense of antiquity — a living museum. At first glance from up top, you'd think this was a city of manors. Buildings were built in a compound form, but they were far from mundane. Each one had a unique medieval appeal to them with fancy ornamentation. Some of them varied, for the sake of variation. Others were bigger or smaller than the rest.
Instead of pure asphalt, the streets were made of solid concrete. But it was still enough to make it immaculate.
Behind her was the enormous Forlorn Mountain, the only mountain you could find in the entirety of Neverland, rising to about 13,488 feet long. It was considered an ancient landmark since it was the Aldrians, an ancient civilization said to only exist in mythological tales, that first inhabited it and brought life to the land (being Pontemus) beneath it, or so the tales would say.
Although she did this every day, the girl felt like she was staring at an 18th-century painting, not a city from the 21st century. She brushed off her usual awe and rose to take a closer look near the edge of the hill.
Being out in the sun wasn't so bad. It, somehow, gave her enough energy to continue with her job.
The girl closed her eyes, yet she still saw everything. The blank page in her head was slowly being filled with all the information she needed. She took a deep breath to prepare for the next step. Her fingers took the shape of a slightly tilted square as if she was measuring a frame.
— Okay… First Form Techni—
"Uh… Excuse me there, young missy. I don't think you should be around here!"
All her concentration went to naught when a man called out to her.
She immediately looked behind her with an irritated expression. A man, probably in his sixties, who looked like an everyday janitor, was standing near the tree. He took the box beside the tree and threw it in the trash can.
— M-My… Maruyone…
She felt her soul being sucked out. Her hands shook in the horror of the tragedy that just occurred. She was completely speechless.
"Um… Did you hear me, young missy?"
"Yes, I heard you!!!" She stomped her leg on the ground like a child about to throw a tantrum.
"Are your parents around?" He rubbed the back of his head as he looked around the place, "They wouldn't want you…"
The janitor went on, but the girl was already in a world of her own. She felt great disrespect coming from him as if he treated her like a measly child. Sixteen-years-old might not be so old, but she was still far from a child. Even if that was the case, she wasn't just any kid.
"Hey, you!" She pointed her finger at him in a hostile manner, "Do I look like a kid to you?"
"I… I'm sorry?"
"Can't you see my uniform??"
He looked dumbfounded. That was when the girl realized. She wasn't wearing her jacket! The most important part of any writers' uniform was their jacket, more so what that jacket entailed on its back.
She was of a below-average height, standing at a hundred and fifty-two centimeters, bearing fluffy short brown hair and a slim physique.
Her attire complimented her tanned skin. Just like any uniform, it was fairly simple: a white shirt, although she unbuttoned one part at her collar because of how tight it felt around in that area, and a black skirt with dark green lines itched near its end. As for the jacket — the pride of the Academy — it was wrapped entirely around her waist. There was no way she would wear it in this broiling weather.
Aside from the "outlandish" way she wore her uniform, the only other noticeable feature was her sparkling yellow eyes. They were really the eyes of an innocent child.
It was no mystery why the janitor mistook her for a child.
She reached for her jacket and spread it for the janitor to see. Despite being withered by the tons of time she wrapped it around her waist, it was fancy-looking, colored with a dark shade of green. On the back of the jacket was the Academy's crest drawn with an outline of golden to display its significance. It was the first letter of the Greek alphabet (A), accompanied by the symbol of a pen that made it seem it drew the letter.
The man looked at it carefully, "The Academy, huh," but then he eyed the girl a suspicious look, "Still, it doesn't look like the official thing! I'm going to need you to show a form of identification, litt—"
"Like hell, I will!!" She shouted.
— What's this old man's deal?
Before the argument could delve any further than it should have, the ground rumbled greatly beneath them. The rumble was enough to shake the janitor off his feet. It was then and there that the girl saw a ray of light rising up to the sky from somewhere down in the city. She could not pinpoint where exactly, which was why she needed to move fast.
"Ugh… I don't have time for this, old man!"
She wrapped the jacket back around her waist and ran to the edge of the cliff. For a good minute, she stood there, eyes closed, in complete silence.
Breaking the silence, the girl reached for her pocket and grabbed her pen.
It was made of solid aluminum and coated with a blue shade. There was a hermetically sealed tube containing the ink, preventing it from leaking.
And so, the girl rested the pen's tip on thin air and began writing.
— First Form Technique
Her eyes lit up as if she received a vision. Nothing around her bothered her anymore. All her focus went into her hands and the pen she held.
"TO"
"THE"
"FRONT"
"LIES"
"THE"
"CITADEL"
Actual words formed in thin air behind every move she took. If you knew anything about Neverland, this wouldn't be a strange sight to you. Even her insane writing speed wouldn't be considered an abnormality at all.
Imagine a world where writers and authors were a much more powerful force than they actually were, where the words they write manifest into reality with ease.
That was Neverland.
But of course, nothing was too easy. A writer could not just write a world and bring it to reality out of nothing. Like anything in the world, there were always limitations, to avoid chaos. And with limitations came order and classifications. The average writer in Neverland had their own personalized skill, such as the girl who continued writing on thin air. Any writer could do that, but for what purpose? That was the difference.
"What in the name of?" The janitor, fallen on the ground, watched the girl as she performed her "writing." He wasn't necessarily surprised by it, but rather so by why a "little" girl would be doing such a thing.
— Second Form Technique
Without warning, a heavy gust burst out to the girl's surroundings — it was strong enough to knock the janitor's hat off. From that point, the girl only got better at her work. She proceeded to write, at even greater speed, with no care in the world. Her mission was important above all else. Within less than a minute, the girl had already written words worth of pages, all still visible, and all on thin air.
— Third Form Technique
Another blast occurred.
If she was summoning a demon from another world, it wouldn't be as grand as this. It felt like she was calling upon the four titans from up in the sky.
The janitor tried to collect his things and scram, but the sight was something to behold. Being a simple janitor, one would see a lot of fantastical things happening all over the city almost every day, but only from a faraway point. This was the first time he saw something like this up close.
At long last, the girl finished off her writing with a swing as if she was done drawing the painting of the century.
She let out a loud sigh.
— This thing is more exhausting than P.E on campus.
True. Writing in Neverland was always a matter of mind, coupled with skill. If one wasn't too careful, it could easily drain their energy to the point of passing out. The girl chuckled as she remembered the times she passed out when she was just a freshman.
"Who… Who are you?"
The girl heard the janitor speaking, who was still in awe of what happened.
"Tch… Was the crest not enough? I'm a writer from Luxsforth!" She said as if she just declared she was the queen of the country.
Zoe Jaeger smiled.
 
[STUDENT FILE #26155]
Full Name: Zöe Jäger
Age: 16 years old
Birthdate: May 12
Gender: Female
Height: 152cm
Literary Element: Reader
Rank: 1st Year Student (Luxsworth Academy)
Note: Insecure about her height
[━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━]
 
"Now if you'll excuse me," Zoe extended her hand.
The janitor thought she was offering to help him up, but the truth was always cruel (perhaps comical sometimes).
"My Maruyone, please!"
"Eh…?" The janitor was confused.
"My Maruyone! It was inside that box you just threw in your bag!!" Even if it was gone to the trash, Zoe wasn't going to easily give up on her food. Not now. Not ever. "And who throws a lunch box like that? You thought you could have it all for yourself, huh."
He didn't.
"Well, too bad, old man. I bought it with all what's left of my allowance and I'm not willing to share!"
The janitor's mind was not totally there at that moment. He still wondered what kind of power Zoe used — he was one of the unfortunate souls that were given very little insight on Neverland, so he was ignorant of how most gifted writers operated.
"H-How did you do that?" He asked.
"What?"
"The thing you just…"
"Ohh, you mean my writing?" She smirked, "If I told you, will you give me back my food?"
He nodded. Although he did not understand why she was so persistent on getting something that probably reeked of odor already.
"Really?! That's it? Well…," she cleared her throat, "I am a reader!"
Contrary to their titles, readers were still writers. In fact, they were the most important element of a writing team. For someone to apply their writing to reality, they needed to read their surroundings, the environment, first in order to establish a mental page in their mind. But that ability always remained to a minimum to anyone whose specialty wasn't reading.
Readers were able to master the Reading Techniques and help their teammates by sharing the construct they established. Techniques are divided into three stages or forms. Each form focused on increasing the reader's writing speed in relaying the information they read on the "page," while also widening the range of what they could read.
"There! Now hand me my food."
In that second, Zoe felt a sting coming from her head.
She was still connected to the pages she wrote, which, in turn, were connected to her on-going surroundings. That sudden strike meant that something was wrong.
— No…
Zoe ran back to the cliff.
— Stupid Zoe! Of course, I forgot.
Despite the mass reading she performed upon a good chunk of the city, she still failed to identify a source of abnormality within it.
There was a reason a student like her was called out into the field instead of simply attending classes on a day like this. Every once in a while, a "fable abnormality" would occur, academy students get called into action.
She, once again, held out her pen and looked through the words she wrote, as if she was trying to pinpoint an error within them.
— "...and in the third avenue of the Clockwork Town, on the sidewalk, walked a small canine to an…"
"Right there!" She yelled.
Clockwork Town was way off to the east of the city, particularly from where the bright light came. The pieces were all perfectly aligned together.
Now she needed to just erase the "canine" and identify its true—
— A Dragooun?!
She backed away in shock.
— This is bad! No, stay calm. It's still in a level one stage… We can fix this.
Zoe put away her pen back in her pocket and grabbed her phone instead. Opening it, she quickly scrolled through her contacts.
She tapped on "Group Call" and waited.

"Set your mind free. Embrace the entropy of imagination."

In a world where writing is the core of all fantasy, follow the students of Luxsforth Academy as they face against the wonders of fairy tales.

Illustration by Hayato Noda:
https://sites.google.com/view/hayatonolinktree

Tom wasn't kidding when he said he arranged a morning flight to New York. Kevin and I where expected at the airport by 3am New Years morning. Since Liam was on Duty I had Kevin take us to the station just before midnight. Luckily his crew was there. 

Liam: Baby!

Liam smiled wide as I walked into the firehouse with pizzas for everyone. 

Willow: I'm so glad you weren't on call. 

Liam hands the pizzas off the Noah. And takes me into his arms. The guys have the ball drop recording on the tv in the lounge area and begin to count down. Right at the count of one Liam  locks his lips on mine. He pulls back staring me in the eyes with love and loss. 

Willow: Don't look at me like that. 

Liam: I can't help it. We haven't been apart since you first came into my life a year and three months ago. 

Willow: Liam, we're apart four nights a week. 

Liam: That's not the same thing. 

Willow: I know. 

Liam: Promise me, you'll call the second you land. And when you get to the hotel and every chance you get between. 

I laugh and claim his lips just as the alarms set off. Liam lifts me pressing his lips to mine with longing. 

Liam: I love you. 

Willow: I love you. 

Liam runs back inside as I retreat back to the car where Kevin is holding the door open. He goes around and gets in the other side and gives James the ok to take us to the Ontario airport. 

Willow: Happy New Years you two. Sorry you're stuck with me. But I appreciate it. 

Kevin chuckles. 

Kevin: Happy New Years Mrs. O'Bryan. And believe me when I say. You are by far the best client to ever be stuck with. 

James: What he said. 

As soon as the jet takes off I get comfy in the luxury recliner and fall fast asleep. Five hours later the sun is shining brightly as we step off the plain in New York. A younger version of Kevin awaits us by a black SUV. He's actually a hair taller than Kevin with dark brown hair slicked back and green eyes. He's clean shaven and obviously works out the way he fills out his dark grey suite. They give each other a half hug and pat on the back. 

Kevin: Karl this Mrs. O'Bryan. Willow this is my kid brother Karl. 

I shake his hand that he holds out. We hop in the SUV and head for headquarters where I meet Karl's team assigned to the award ceremony at the hotel. It would ordinarily be a little intimidating being surrounded by a bunch of big guys mostly made of military or law but I'm use to it being around Liam's crew who are all quiet equivalent. I find my self at ease as Karl introduces me to them. Liam on the other hand would be just a ticking time bomb right now. 

Karl: The blond twins are Mike and Mick

I say hello. They are average 5'11 maybe? Mike has short scruffy hair while the other one Mick has his head shaved. 

Karl: This is Jason but we call him Moa on account of he looks like Jason Mamoa. 

He curls one side of his lips into a knowing smirk as he nods his head in my direction. With brown hair pulled back into a tight tail, his sun kissed skin and short scruffy beard, he really does look like aquaman. 

Karl: And that's Benny our tech specialist. 

The shorter, skinnier and much younger of the bunch Italian with glasses and short slick black hair smiles and nods. 

Karl: This is Mrs. O'Bryan our client and her bodyguard my older brother Kevin. 

We all take a seat in a small conference room going over details for tonight. Who's going where and doing what. Soon after Karl escorts Kevin and I to the hotel. The rest of the team follows and quickly disperses to attend to their jobs before taking their posts later tonight. Back in my room after several missed calls back and forth I finally get a hold of Liam. 

Liam: I've been so caught up in this stalker shit I don't think I ever told you how proud I am of you. I know how much this means to you and you have to know that means something to me too. 

Willow: I know. 

Liam: Call me after! Let me know how it goes. 

Willow: I will. I love you. 

Liam: Love you. 

Kelly my publicist sends a text telling me where in the lobby to meet her before going into the ball room. After a quick shower I toss on my ankle length black long sleeve velour form fitted dress and lightly pat on a little powder and mascara. I rub my lips together to blend the fleshy pale lip color, give my hair a comb through and pull it all to one side. Then smile at the image in the mirror. 

The smile soon fades. Anxiety has been hovering in my gut all day and causing my heart to beat heavy in my chest. I try to suppress it telling myself it's nerves for the award but I know it's not. I hate admitting it but I'm afraid something bad is going to happen. My thoughts turn to Liam and I say a small silent prayer that he's safe. The idea of this guy coming after me also weighs heavy. But I stand tall as I give myself a wink before answering Kevin's knock. 

Kevin: If I were 15 years younger!

I giggle as I take his compliment with ease. Kevin and I share innocent banter often out of ear shot of Liam for obvious reasons but I know he sees it from time to time and of all the guys Kevin is the only one he seems most comfortable around. 

Willow: You clean up pretty nicely for an old man. 

He holds out is arm for me to take as we head down the elevator to find Kelly in the lobby. 

Kelly: Willow there you are. 

She stands frozen staring at my hand in the crook of Kevin's elbow and looks between us with a squint. 

Kelly: Who's this?

Willow: My body guard. 

She raises a brow. 

Kelly: Why do you need a body guard? Where's Liam. 

Willow: I apparently have a stalker and Liam couldn't get this week end off. This is Kevin. Kevin my publicist Kelly. 

Kelly: Welcome to fame love. 

She gives me the run down of what's to expected and how it all works before leading Kevin and I in the dark ball room covered in black drapes along the walls and black table cloths while strings of white lights line the ceiling. She seats us two tables away from the stage with another three other people. 

Kelly: Willow this is Doria Wade author of the ghost love series, her husband Daryl and Peter Gram of the Guardians among us series. Everyone this is...

Peter stands abruptly interrupting Kelly as he anxiously reaches out a hand. 

Peter: Willow Grayson it is an honor to meet you. 

Kevin tenses up next me. Peter notices and quickly takes his seat. 

Willow: The honor is mine. I absolutely love Seths character. 

Peter: Thank you, you know in the world of fantasy Seth and Sky would have made quiet the couple. 

I smile and shake Doria's and her husbands hands. While introducing Kevin before taking our seats. A band plays classical music as food and drinks are served. 

Doria: You know Willow I was pleasantly surprised at the outcome of In light of darkness. The beginning had me worried I was up for some ghostly competition and then you just went a whole other route and made it a sequel. Well done. 

Willow: Thank you. In truth when I first started I hadn't intended it to be a sequel. I had meant for it to me a bazar ghost love story but then it just kind of got away from me. 

Doria: I can't tell you how many times I've done that but those don't usually work out so well for me. Congratulation on Goddess of the moon. It was rather refreshing. Do you plan on going back in time for a sort of prequel. 

Willow: My original thoughts were to start with Luna and Thomas but when I finally got around to writing again my focus fell on Willow. So I don't know, maybe someday. 

Peter: I find it interesting that you can switch genres like you do. Most authors have one that tends to stick. 

Willow: Well I mean they are all of the short story adult erotic fantasy genre. But yes I know what you mean. I'd say the mystery suspense fantasies are more my yearly, where as my supernatural are more seasonal. It's not something I have much control over.  

After the main course is served the older hostess with short curly purple hair begins calling out the awards. My palms begin to sweat and butterflies flutter through my stomach into my chest. I was never one for the spot light and yet here I am frozen as my name is called. 

Hostess: And the award goes to Willow Grayson. 

The amount of applause was a surprise, even Kevin seemed proud. With a big smile I take the stage as I am handed the small trophy of a platinum sculpted book and pen. With a plaque that reads 2020 best author award. 
Luckily the lights weren't blinding like you always see in the movies. They were soft and subtle unlike the gut clenching fear rising inside me as I spot a man standing at the door way of the entrance to the ball room that looked like Mark. Kevin noticed me and follows my eyes. But when I look back he's gone and Karl is standing on the opposite side of the door way. I say a quick thanks and rush back down to me seat. 

Kevin: You ok. 

Willow: I don't know. I swore I saw him in the door way but then he was gone and Karl is there so I think I'm losing my mind. 

Kevin: Tricks of the light maybe but it's never a bad thing to be sure. 

Kevin taps his ear and whispers something to Karl. A few minutes later Kevin leans in close. 

Kevin: No sign of him. Benny checked all the cameras. Karl assured the guy at the door wasn't him. 

I nodded  with appreciation. Desert was now served along with night caps as the end of the awards were coming to a close. Before I had a chance to escape back to my room several people stopped to congratulate me along with a few magazine writers, and bloggers. Kelly did most of the talking assuring a few of them private interviews tomorrow. Karl walked ahead while Moa tailed us as Kevin escorted me through the lobby crowd and back to our floor. Waiting outside my door was one of the twins. Mike the one with short scruffy hair. 

Willow: You're not seriously going to stand out here all night are you?

Mike: No, just the first few hours then Mick will take the second shift. 

Kevin's laughing as he knows how I am. Most nights he's assigned watch duty when Liam is away I make him come inside. This how ever is different. Mike is a stranger and it turns out they have the room just across from mine. 

Willow: Well at least take one of my chairs. 

I open the door to my room not thinking and Kevin swiftly brushed past me to sweep it. I let out a huff. This all so crazy, there's nothing special about me 

Kevin: Clear. 

He walks over grabbing one of the chairs and sets it out side my door for Mike. 

Mike: Thanks. 

Kevin: Willow I trust you will stay in your room and not go anywhere with out me!

Willow: You don't have your car and this is New York how will you keep up with me when I go for my morning jog. 

His mouth drops. 

Kevin: We're only here for two nights I thought you would take a a break or something?

Willow: See you at 6!

I wink at him and shut my door. I could hear Mike laughing at Kevin as Kevin Retreats to his room next to mine. 














(Sequel to From the ashes) 
It's never dull when you're married to a fireman, but when Willows sudden fame as an up and coming best selling author brings some unwanted attention from a stalker, dark secrets will be revealed. Will Liam and Willows love be strong enough to survive.
                "From the ashes, into the flames,
              we rise together like a great Phoenix"

World War II, and Japan's defeat, deeply influenced Japanese literature. Many authors wrote stories of disaffection, loss of purpose, and the coping with defeat. Haruo Umezaki's short story Sakurajima shows a disillusioned and skeptical Navy officer stationed in a base located on the Sakurajima volcanic island, close to Kagoshima, on the southern tip of the Kyushu island. Osamu Dazai's novel The Setting Suntells of a soldier returning from Manchukuo. Shōhei Ōoka won the Yomiuri Prize for his novel Fires on the Plain about a Japanese deserter going mad in the Philippine jungle. Yukio Mishima, well known for both his nihilistic writing and his controversial suicide by seppuku, began writing in the post-war period. Nobuo Kojima's short story "The American School" portrays a group of Japanese teachers of English who, in the immediate aftermath of the war, deal with the American occupation in varying ways.

Prominent writers of the 1970s and 1980s were identified with intellectual and moral issues in their attempts to raise social and political consciousness. One of them, Kenzaburō Ōe published his best-known work, A Personal Matterin 1964 and became Japan's second winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature.

Mitsuharu Inoue (ja) had long been concerned with the atomic bomb and continued in the 1980s to write on problems of the nuclear age, while Shusaku Endo depicted the religious dilemma of the Kakure Kirishitan, Roman Catholics in feudal Japan, as a springboard to address spiritual problems. Yasushi Inoue also turned to the past in masterful historical novels of Inner Asia and ancient Japan, in order to portray present human fate.

Avant-garde writers, such as Kōbō Abe, who wrote fantastic novels such as The Woman in the Dunes (1960), wanted to express the Japanese experience in modern terms without using either international styles or traditional conventions, developed new inner visions. Yoshikichi Furui tellingly related the lives of alienated urban dwellers coping with the minutiae of daily life, while the psychodramas within such daily life crises have been explored by a rising number of important women novelists. The 1988 Naoki Prize went to Shizuko Todo (ja) for Ripening Summer, a story capturing the complex psychology of modern women. Other award-winning stories at the end of the decade dealt with current issues of the elderly in hospitals, the recent past (Pure- Hearted Shopping District in Kōenji, Tokyo), and the life of a Meiji period ukiyo-e artist.

Haruki Murakami is one of the most popular and controversial of today's Japanese authors. His genre-defying, humorous and surreal works have sparked fierce debates in Japan over whether they are true "literature" or simple pop-fiction: Kenzaburō Ōe has been one of his harshest critics. Some of Murakami's best-known works include Norwegian Wood (1987) and The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle (1994–1995).

Banana Yoshimoto, a best-selling contemporary author whose "manga-esque" style of writing sparked much controversy when she debuted in the late 1980s, has come to be recognized as a unique and talented author over the intervening years. Her writing style stresses dialogue over description, resembling the script of a manga, and her works focus on love, friendship and loss. Her breakout work was 1988's Kitchen.

Although modern Japanese writers covered a wide variety of subjects, one particularly Japanese approach stressed their subjects' inner lives, widening the earlier novel's preoccupation with the narrator's consciousness. In Japanese fiction, plot development and action have often been of secondary interest to emotional issues. In keeping with the general trend toward reaffirming national characteristics, many old themes re-emerged, and some authors turned consciously to the past. Strikingly, Buddhist attitudes about the importance of knowing oneself and the poignant impermanence of things formed an undercurrent to sharp social criticism of this material age. There was a growing emphasis on women's roles, the Japanese persona in the modern world, and the malaise of common people lost in the complexities of urban culture.

Popular fiction, non-fiction, and children's literature all flourished in urban Japan in the 1980s. Many popular works fell between "pure literature" and pulp novels, including all sorts of historical serials, information-packed docudramas, science fiction, mysteries, detective fiction, business stories, war journals, and animal stories. Non-fiction covered everything from crime to politics. Although factual journalism predominated, many of these works were interpretive, reflecting a high degree of individualism. Children's works re-emerged in the 1950s, and the newer entrants into this field, many of them younger women, brought new vitality to it in the 1980s.

Manga (comics) has penetrated almost every sector of the popular market. It includes virtually every field of human interest, such as multivolume high-school histories of Japan and, for the adult market, a manga introduction to economics, and pornography. Manga represented between 20 and 30 percent of annual publications at the end of the 1980s, in sales of some ¥400 billion per year.

Cell phone novels appeared in the early 21st century. Written by and for cell phone users, the novels—typically romances read by young women—have become very popular both online and in print. Some, such as Love Sky, have sold millions of print copies, and at the end of 2007 cell phone novels comprised four of the top five fiction best sellers.

this is made for the purpose of getting the authors badge  at any rate I'll just compile world literature

Everyone who was focused on the Cannes Festival heard the news. In foreign countries, not a lot of people were interested, but indie film fans knew that Qin Guan had won the Best Actor Award of the 56th Cannes Festival.
He was the third Chinese actor to get that award after Ge You and Liang Chaowei. Everyone wanted to toast to that.
Qin Guan’s female fans went crazy online. His fan club was expanding at a high speed. His official fans were as many as 100,000. Most of Qin Guan's acquaintances were frightened. They hadn’t expected their son, fellow classmate, and friend to win the award. Only the word "f*ck" could express their sorrow.
...
"Got it!" Rongzhi shouted with sparkling eyes after working all night long. He had finally found out who Blaire, the freelance writer of The New York Times, actually was.
Then he discovered his apartment address and IP address through the local network station. Finally, he invaded Blaire’s computer.
Counterfeiters always saved the original photos or documents in a folder that they never opened in their whole lives. Rongzhi found Blaire’s secret in an encrypted folder.
"Show me your secrets. OMG is waiting!"
Rongzhi rubbed his hands happily. Then he opened the folder and checked it out.
"What the f*ck... What’s that?" Current affairs… Entertainment gossip… Rumors... Real news were twisted into completely different reports.
There were 40 fake reports in total. Blaire had been publishing them in The New York Times for more than a year. It seemed that The New York Times, the newspaper with the highest sales volume in America, published unverified news quite often. Blair was a frequent writer of the newspaper. What a joke!
If the chief editor was careful, he could have found the loopholes. However...
Emboldened by his initial success, Blair had continued his unscrupulous fabrication.
Rongzhi took an excited breath and copied all the proof. Like a dedicated professional, he sent it to both Qin Guan and Vivian. As soon as she got everything, Vivian posted it on OMG, complaining openly about her idol.
Yes, that’s right. Complaining!
Qin Guan's romantic life was discussed heatedly on the forum by people interested in gossip. They were all really happy about the news.
In America, such stories were common among both ordinary people and stars. Female fans though, who tended to be perfectionists, couldn't accept that.
Childhood sweethearts? You cheated on her as soon as you won the award! Besides, that girl was not even beautiful!
They had a unique opinion on Chinese beauties. They preferred dark skin and thick lips, so Li Bingbing did not match their taste.
The story changed really quickly though, when everyone found out about the fake news fabricated by The New York Times. It was unbelievable! Now everyone knew about the fake news published by the most popular newspaper in America.
In a few minutes, the netizens had gone crazy. The striking news were on OMG, where everyone gathered to spread it.
In 10 minutes, the editors of all the mainstream media and portal websites had heard. Phones rang again and again. Will Ryan, the chief editor of The New York Times, rushed into his office.
The directors of all the sections were crowded inside, although it was not working hours.
"Talk… Anyone got through to Blair?"
Ryan rubbed his temples tiredly. The aggressive, achievement-oriented man was in big trouble.
"According to our technical staff, the material online is real. Blair is a fraud."
"We have to make an announcement tomorrow to correct the fake news..."
"Blair stole information from other media. Now we have to negotiate with those writers and publishers."
"The victim of his latest story was the Cannes Best Actor winner. His lawyer has sent us a letter..."
The calm, efficient man seemed overwhelmed by the bad news. He lowered his head, and then looked up again. Before he could say something to his startled staff, the phone rang again.
"Chief editor, you have a call from the board..."


Qin Guan was reborn and sent back to his final semester in High School 18 years ago. Getting a second chance at life, he works hard to turn things around and eventually become a Prince Charming. What will his life be like the second time around? What will he have to go through? How will he succeed in turning from a loser into a Prince Charming? Read this story carefully and find out!

award for mystery writers novel

Ideas for Writers

The Great Storyteller

Two Top Winners in Readers Choice Award 2020 from Motivational Strips

I’m Really a Superstar

Rebirth in Hollywood

improve football coach

Twilight Neverl̵̩̾à̸̦n̸̝̊d̴̘̆ ████████

Into the flames (Willows tale 2)

for the author's badge

Rebirth: How A Loser Became A Prince Charming

People search award for mystery writers also like: