It was going premium again, again, and again.
I vaguely remembered that when I wrote Hungry Shark, it had been purely a whim.
When I wrote Time Dragon, it was during the pandemic. With nothing to do at home and no one but myself to worry about, I spent my days fiercely arguing in games and didn't care about the book's performance.
In the blink of an eye, several years had passed. I had a family now. Deep down, I still felt like that eighteen-year-old boy, but my steadily receding hairline, increasingly stubbly beard, and games that no longer held my interest all reminded me— it was time to take on life itself.
Things were different now.
Writing was still my hobby, but at the same time, it was also for making a living.
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