I thought I would have a lot to say, but when I actually sat down to write this, I felt surprisingly calm.
I was very grateful to the readers who kept up with the story and voted for it, and to those familiar friends, too. I typed out some rather sentimental words, but deleted them in the end.
This was the first book I had ever written. It had plenty of flaws and problems, and when I thought about it, all I could really say was:
Keep writing.
Work hard to fix the flaws and finish the book without a hitch. As for everything else, leave it to time.
I often felt worried, puzzled, and, above all, insecure. Why would anyone read this book?
After all, it almost failed to get a contract. Still, I figured that since I had promised not to abandon it, I would finish it even without one.
The first chapter had some pretty serious problems, too, and drove quite a few readers away. Looking back, there should have been a better way to work it into the story. Maybe I would go back and revise it later, but for now, I should probably focus on writing new material?
I was anxious, worried that my writing was truly terrible, and afraid to publish chapters. Getting to go premium came as quite a surprise.
But then I thought, Even if the writing is awful and no one reads it, could things really be as bad as I originally expected?
When I said, "As long as even one person is still following it, I'll finish this book," that "one person" actually meant me, the author, following my own work.
Every reader beyond that was an unexpected delight.
So I would stop rambling here and save the rest