Looking back, I realized I had written seventy chapters before I knew it. I could hardly believe it...
I had even forgotten how I came up with the idea of writing a book. It felt like a spur-of-the-moment thought back then: why not write a fanfic?
Then an editor took a liking to it, and I started writing, signed a contract, kept writing, and made it this far.
At the beginning, I genuinely had no writing experience at all. I ran on enthusiasm alone, writing whatever came to mind. Sometimes a chapter of two or three thousand characters took ages to think through. I stumbled along, revising over and over, worried that I might write something wrong.
After all, I was writing alone, with no feedback whatsoever back then.
Later, more readers started reading the book, and some really lovely readers encouraged me. Honestly, every encouraging comment I saw back then made me so happy.
It could keep me happy for quite a while.
Of course, criticism came hard on its heels, too, and reading it left me upset and a little dispirited.
But whenever I wanted to give up, a reader would immediately cast a recommendation vote or a monthly vote (thank you, everyone)...
Then I thought, I said I would finish what I started. I can't go back on my word, can I? After all, a person ought to have at least that basic level of integrity.
And there were still readers waiting to read my book.
So when faced with that criticism, I would also put myself in the right frame of mind and slowly work on correcting my mistakes.
It was my first time writing a book, after all. I would just flop my way through...
Actually, my original intention was to write a more lighthearted