Friends, please take a moment to read this article quietly. Consider it a heartfelt testimonial from a side story.
Writing is a treacherous path that every author must brave. Only by crossing this line between life and death can one transform into a butterfly and appreciate the trials they've endured.
Perhaps it's because I've tasted so much bitterness that I can't recognize sweetness.
Let me share my original intention for writing a book. My motivation is simple and pure—not driven by lofty dreams or grand ideals.
But for the money.
Money.
It's a blunt and practical truth.
This is my most honest thought. I write books to earn money, and I want to make money to support my family.
As I type this on my friend's computer, I feel both grounded and shamelessly honest.
But reality is heavy.
I want to write stories, but I feel like it's all dependent on the financial aspect. I'm struggling to continue; there aren't even comments to quench my thirst for recognition. Yet, despite everything, I will persist.
The life of an author is filled with quiet battles and unspoken struggles. Every keystroke is a step toward survival, and every paragraph is a bridge over uncertainty. I write not just for myself but also for my loved ones who rely on me. Each word is a lifeline, a way to fend off despair.
I dream of the day when my stories resonate with readers, when my words spark discussions, and when my characters become beloved companions. Until then, I will endure the solitude of creation and the silence of unacknowledged efforts. I will continue to pour my heart into my work, hoping that one day my dedication will bear fruit.
For now, my story remains untold, my hardships unseen. But I believe in the power of persistence. I believe that through my writing, I can carve out a better future, not just for myself, but for everyone who believes in the magic of words. So, I will keep writing, keep dreaming, and keep fighting against the odds.