Side Story: An Author's Daily Life
April 1, 2021. It rained today.
Little Feng Xin woke up at seven thirty.
She rubbed her eyes.
Found her glasses.
Felt around for her phone.
Turned on her phone.
Opened Writer Assistant.
Checked the stats.
Checking stats every day was something every failed author had to do... no, they did not deserve to be called authors.
They could only be called writers.
As one of those failed writers,
opening her phone to check the stats was something Little Feng Xin had to do every day.
921.
Yesterday's subscriptions were 921, and the latest chapter had 30 ongoing subscribers.
Those were the stats for March 31, 2021.
Looking at the glaring numbers on her phone,
Little Feng Xin did not know what to say.
Miserable! It was truly miserable!
Too miserable to look at.
There was probably no other failed writer as hopeless as she was.
No...
There were people worse off than her.
Little Tian Xin next door.
She did not even have any subscriptions.
She had it even worse.
"...Sigh."
Little Feng Xin sighed.
She got up and brushed her teeth.
Then she opened her phone and started writing.
Do not ask why she did not use a computer to write.
Because she was poor.
She could not afford a computer.
She could only write on her phone.
Time passed little by little.
Eleven o'clock.
She had written 2,200 words.
After correcting a few typos,
it was already eleven thirty.
It was time to eat.
Time for lunch.
Little Feng Xin turned off her phone.
Pulled the blanket over her head.
And went to sleep.
Do not ask why Little Feng Xin did not eat.
Because Little Feng Xin had no money.
With 921 subscriptions,
she could not even afford grass to