Well, it’s something that should just be enjoyed by those who liked it. There’s no need to forcefully explain it to people who weren’t interested nor was it something that everyone needed to understand.
Parallel Universe Reincarnation Cheating stories were originally similar to light novels, so it’s fine as as long the people who liked them were happy with them.
And this didn’t apply to just light novels.
It applied to everything. Words, or even feelings.
As long those things were able to reach the one person you wanted to convey them to or make happy, that’s more than enough.
But I wonder why? It just wasn’t getting through to Zaimokuza-san at all.
Even now, he was ignoring what we were saying and was wriggling his arms and legs as if desperately holding something in.
“Arghhhh! That is not the issue! It is not about popularity or how well-received it is! I do not care about that at all, it does not bother me at all! It’s just, um, you know? How should I put it!? I do not like the idea of being confined to things like rankings and standings! Like, I do not want people criticizing my work behind a screen or something!”
I was almost deluded into thinking he had uttered something cool for an instant there, but there were all sorts of curious words coming out of his mouth. And one answer came to mind.
“Ahh. Huh? Do they display the rankings there? Well, I guess it might be a little too rough seeing how unpopular your work is, huh?”
“No! Absolutely not! Rankings, standings, ratings, and reviews do not bother me in the slightest! Things like rankings are nothing more than a metric! The rest need only be covered with courage!” said Zaimokuza, eagerly.
However, in the end, there were just some things you couldn’t cover with courage alone. With how transparent he was being about the thing he was concerned about, he was completely see-through!
“…Oh. So, your spirit broke from actually submitting something, huh?”
“That’s some growth on his part considering the amount of resolve you’d need to show something like that to the public.”
“Yep, yep, he’s got the guts.”
Yukinoshita and Yuigahama looked both surprised and impressed as they complimented Zaimokuza. But just to make sure, you guys were complimenting him, right? Right? Because I was completely under the impression you guys were being incredibly sarcastic there! Then again, this was Yukinoshita we’re talking about here, of course she’s being sarcastic!
I, however, was in the mood to praise Zaimokuza.
We’re talking about a man who could never even finish a manuscript, much less submit an entry to the Rookie of the Year award. While it might’ve been just on the internet, he still had uploaded his work to a public domain. When I think about how there’s going to be other people who’d suffer from reading his work besides me, I felt ecstatic. Everyone should just suffer more. If everyone suffered together, the world would definitely turn peaceful.
Or so I thought, but Zaimokuza shook his hand back and forth in a rejecting notion. “No, I did nothing of the sort. It is my impression after seeing another person’s work get damned to hell.”
“Oh, okay…”
Looks we’re still a long way from world peace.
That’s Zaimokuza for you. His title of a pathetic wannabe wasn’t for show. No wait, let’s think about it this way; for him to be this empathetic from seeing someone else’s work get bashed to pieces was a testament to his considerable sensitivity. Surprisingly, he might have the aptitude to become a writer…
However, I personally believe that the most important aspect of being a light novel writer wasn’t the ability to write or to compose, and certainly not even a rich imagination; it’s to not be sensitive.
What’s important was to have a mentality of steel.
You wouldn’t lose regardless of what was said to you; you wouldn’t give in even if you didn’t sell; you wouldn’t say anything unnecessary on your blog or Twitter; you wouldn’t get carried away even if you managed to get some sales; you wouldn’t get disheartened when people mocked you; you wouldn’t get involved in disputes of one thing or another when they happen; you wouldn’t look directly at a situation that got out of hand; you wouldn’t exaggerate your own ability; you wouldn’t believe in yourself from the start; you wouldn’t worry about your future and your age catching up on you; you wouldn’t cry on a lonely night; you wouldn’t raise your expectations when receiving wonderful news; you wouldn’t let numbers from other places bother you; you wouldn’t resign if you stopped being able to write; you wouldn’t run away from deadlines; and you wouldn’t forget to appreciate your surroundings.
These NAI-NAI 1610 things were necessary components in your mentality to become a light novel author.
The strength of your mentality—that’s the most important. I think the light novel As Long I Had a Little Sister had that written in it. No, maybe it didn’t. Yeah, it probably didn’t.
But since Zaimokuza was neither professional nor gutsy, I had to lead him down a path that was hassle-free! His mentality was completely like plain tofu that I’d recommend having hot pot this season.
I straightened my posture and cleared my throat. With a voice calmer than normal, I said, “Zaimokuza. It’s likely your doujinshi won’t sell a single copy. Don’t you think it’d be less painful if you looked at reality?”
Zaimokuza stammered, imagining the likelihood of that occurring. Whether it’s enduring the heat of the summer convention or the cold of the winter convention, the feeling of being by yourself at your booth, listening in on the amiable voices of the cosplay girls at the nearby booths, watching a huge line form at the circle in front of you, and looking up at the ceiling because you couldn’t stand facing your own doujinshis that didn’t sell a single copy… Could Zaimokuza handle such a situation? No. I say absolutely not.
Eventually, Zaimokuza’s shoulders dropped and as if mustering out his voice, he said, “…You have a point.”
“If you’re aiming to become an editor, it’d be more constructive to think of other methods instead of making a doujinshi.”
“Fumu… I see, I see…” Zaimokuza answered honestly as if his spirit was broken from my pressing words. Good, good, now I won’t have to worry about making a doujinshi with Zaimokuza…
Once Zaimokuza who had a loud voice earlier turned docile, the room was submerged in silence. I let out a sigh of relief now that we had finished this issue. Then, there was the sound of crackers being chomped.
“But hey, how do you even become an editor?” said Yuigahama, chewing.