Illusion Report

Come to think of it, *Illusion* has only been out for a little over forty days—just over a month.

I really didn’t expect at the start that I’d be riding such a volatile roller coaster...

The difficulty of writing an ensemble cast increases by at least threefold (I calculated this in a lab, wearing a white coat and repeatedly pouring green liquid back and forth), and the audience shrinks by a factor of three (same source, very scientific). I was actually prepared for all that.

Or rather, I *thought* I was prepared.

When I first started the novel, I was still coasting on the inertia and illusions left over from my apocalypse novel. Looking out, it felt like I could still see the ghosts of its past splendor.

(I know the apocalypse novel wasn’t *that* huge, but relatively speaking, it was far more mainstream.)

Aside from the initial burst of support everyone gave me at the launch, which was indeed a brief moment of splendor, I started facing the harsh reality as the story unfolded. ’Huh? I knew this was niche, but I didn’t think it would be *this* niche.’

It felt like all my readers were holdovers from the apocalypse novel, and I was losing them along the way. My initial base of support was dwindling. Who wouldn’t panic? Watching the stats on the backend get lower and lower, I’ll admit I got pretty anxious.

You see, no matter how firm your resolve is at the start, you still feel the pain when you run headfirst into reality. And if you hit it hard enough, you’ll need a cast.

With my head wrapped in that metaphorical cast, I watched my new book grow more and more deserted (don’t ask me how I saw, I just did) and slowly forced myself to keep writing. That was when I was writing about Chaisi, an unpopular character in an already unpopular story. But as I kept slogging through it, I suddenly found my state of mind becoming much calmer.

How do I put it? I suddenly had this feeling, ’Ah, *this* is how it’s supposed to be.’

When I started this book, I did it with the mindset that I’d never written the apocalypse novel, that this was the first book of my life. So, when the external environment wasn’t bustling with excitement, with no colorful flags waving for me... isn’t that just perfect?

The more niche and unpopular a story is, the more it needs a niche and quiet environment to be written in. That way, it’s harder to get distracted by other things. And by "environment," I mean both my mental state and the external one.

That’s why I said I was aiming for 20 initial subscribers. It was a joke, but thinking about it now, if it really had been just 20, it wouldn’t have been unacceptable. It’s about going back to where you started. That’s not to say the journey was for nothing, but rather... it’s like seeing the mountains as mountains and the water as water again.

When you choose a deserted path, you must naturally walk it step by step in silence, watching the mountains shift in the white mist, and waiting for the veil to occasionally lift, revealing the hidden scenery I’ve been searching for.

When all is said and done, thank you. Thank you for being willing to follow me down this dark path to the end—and you should know, I’m not even carrying a flashlight.

P.S. Oh, right! My editor told me to mention *Wild Deer Convenience Store* more often, just in case people don’t know I’m keeping a short story collection as a mistress on the side (not really). My editor is a true bro; he’s one step away from wearing a ski mask and kidnapping people off the street to read my novel. So I have to shout it out a few times: *Wild Deer Convenience Store*! *Wild Deer Convenience Store*!

Bite-sized stories, with a sweet aftertaste!

"After reading *Wild Deer Convenience Store*, my child’s test scores improved, and my elderly parents’ leg pains went away!" says Ms. Liu, a local citizen.

"*Wild Deer Convenience Store* is a shop I’m always happy to spend my money at." —Excerpt from a *The Wall Street Journal* review. Signed, Guiltily-Gathering-Funds.