I suddenly realized that I've been promoted to Second-level Author. I'm so happy, I'll find a chance to add an extra chapter!
Looking at others, those who are more talented often get upgraded to second, third, or even fourth level with their first book. Unlike me, who is pretty mediocre—I honestly waited way too long for this. After over two years, going through several books with lots of bumps along the way, I finally reached this milestone. Though this honor might not mean much, it's still some form of recognition for me, bestowed by my readers. I'm truly grateful!
To be honest, my friends and family all know that I write books, but I've never told them what I write. I didn't think it was necessary. One close friend nearly ended our friendship because of it. Every time he saw me, he'd complain and say, "You won't even tell me? I could give you some advice... Why won't you share it with me?" and things like that. After being turned down countless times, his current attitude is, "Fine, you'll talk when you're ready. I'll just wait until you decide to tell me."
One time, a colleague accidentally saw me dealing with a contract and realized I was writing novels. His first reaction was, "Wow, I didn't expect that. How much do you earn per month? Do lots of people read your stuff? Must be making a lot, huh?" At that moment, I felt rather disheartened. It's not about the money! The original intent of writing wasn't for that—it was simply out of love for it. Sure, at some point money inevitably becomes involved, since material needs are the basis for survival, and without material stability, how can you even talk about spiritual pursuits? But it's definitely not just about money.
There were a few close colleagues who didn't realize I was writing until I left the company. One of them commented, "So it's been years, and I had no clue. You're really good at keeping secrets. You novel-writers are so cunning..." I broke into a sweat after hearing that. Truth is, I deliberately kept it to myself. To me, work is work. Sure, we can hang out or have fun after hours, but I can tell their interests differ completely from mine. Even if I did share, we'd never find common ground—why bother?
Often, that's how people are. When they come across something they love, they want to share it excitedly with others, saying, "Oh, let me tell you, this thing is amazing!" But the typical response they get is, "What are you talking about? Never heard of it—doesn't seem interesting." Gradually, you get used to keeping it to yourself and even comforting yourself with thoughts like, "Ah, the ignorant masses—it's enough for me to know about this myself."
Some things are personal hobbies. If someone's not part of the circle, they fundamentally won't get it—their standards for judging are just different. Sharing it might even be worse than keeping quiet, which is why I've never mentioned it to friends or family. As a result, you could say I've been fighting this battle alone all along, single-handedly, with my only companions being my readers. The people I owe gratitude to are my readers, and my readers alone.
Bowing deeply! Salute! Truly, thank you, my dear readers! Mwah!