Became an American Retro Novelist - Chapter 234



Only Krnovel

234.

1980s.

There was a time in America, and indeed the entire world, when the perception was that animation was content for children.

At that time, we decided to produce a horror novel serialized for adults into a theatrical animation.

After thinking about it again, I realized that it was a completely unrealistic story.

So, in reality, the idea we came up with was rejected without a second thought.

After finishing the first meeting and returning home, I entered my room feeling a little gloomy.

Without even taking off his jacket, he spun around and fell flat on the bed.

I looked up at the ceiling and thought.

‘I wanted to see you.’

‘Mother’ produced by Tim Burton’s animation.

But as Michael from Warner Brothers said, even Disney animation was in its dark ages in 1986. In that situation, it was frankly ridiculous to produce a theatrical animation that could traumatize children.

‘I guess this is Reality.’

Cold reality.

······Ugh, but I really want to see it. I mean, ‘Mother’, made in a Tim Burton-style animation, like ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ or ‘Corpse Bride’, which would be made in the future.

But that was something I could say because I knew what the two works that would come out in the future would be like, and that alone wasn’t enough to convince the two businessmen.

Theatrical animations of this era had to be drawn by hand, one by one, to meet the standard of 24 frames per second, and often required higher production costs than live-action films.

For example, the 74-minute animated film “Basil Detective,” released around July 1986, cost $14 million to produce, while the 91-minute live-action film “Pee-wee’s Big Adventure” from 1985 was reportedly produced for around $6 million, despite spending a considerable amount of money on prop production.

In addition, the time it takes to draw each picture could never be overlooked.

As someone who had hoped that Tim Burton wouldn’t be derailed by his future of making 1988’s Beetlejuice while he was making Mother, I had to accept that it had to be a live-action film, not just for the sake of cost but also for the sake of production time.

The reason why I still feel regretful is probably because the medium called ‘animation’ greatly stimulated the ‘Nerd’ spirit within me.

As I thought about that, the conversation I had with Tim Burton today naturally came to mind, and I kicked out of bed and took out the bottle of liquor I had hidden in the closet like it was during Prohibition.

Jack Daniels with a clean and luxurious design.

I was too lazy to go down to the first floor to get a glass, so I just opened the bottle and started drinking from the bottle.

‘It was a really fruitful conversation.’

Is it because he is someone I will be working with in the future? Or is it because director Tim Burton himself prefers that kind of deep conversation?

Anyway, the comments he made about my work made me think about it in many ways because there were parts that felt very typical of him.

‘Emptiness, solitude, loneliness, not being understood, alone······.’

I thought of a few words that connect Tim Burton’s world with my own.

Director Tim Burton is said to have spent a lot of time lost in his own world since childhood.

I’m sure there was something like that in me too.

In my previous life as a boy, I tried to live as a ‘good son to my mother’. That aspect made me not to share my problems with others, and made me secretly immerse myself in a field called genre in the closet.

Thinking back now, I think I was able to gradually relieve those feelings when I started writing novels in earnest.

‘I guess that’s why.’

The novel was my alter ego.

I felt depressed when my writing wasn’t recognized, and I felt inadequate when it was successful.

The writer’s job was to organize and present the stale emotions that everyone has, and when his or her results were distorted by someone with greater influence, he or she could not help but feel more despair and anger than ever.

Tim Burton said he felt a ’emptiness’ in my novel.

I quite agree with that statement.

Since my previous life, I have not been able to trust others deeply, and I have been clumsy at forming deep relationships. Socially, I was not particularly bad at speaking, but that was not speaking what was truly inside me, but rather what I knew how to do as a social person.

I was closer to the type of person who felt awkward about being accepted as an individual by others.

And maybe that was a problem that everyone was experiencing, not just me.

We all go through life learning how to suppress and assimilate our true selves in order to blend in with the community called society.

I belong to the group where the gap between myself and the world is very severe. I was granted another life and, miraculously, met a humanized version of a golden retriever, which helped me let go of some of the pain, but I still had to live with a secret I couldn’t tell.

‘The fact that I am a human being whose past, present, and future are all jumbled up together.’

Or, some built-up feelings of inferiority or anger due to race or problems in my life.

But it wasn’t just me, Alexa, Doofy, Jiwoo, Mom, Simon, Julia, Kate, John, Rebecca, Bill, they all had their own dark sides and were desperately fighting against them.

They each carried their own crosses, but they guided me in a good direction even though I met them by chance in this world, and I loved them for that.

It was also about loving myself. And it was also about loving my work.

‘Interesting.’

I faced the dark side of myself that I had not been aware of until now, but I didn’t feel too bad. Because I was a ‘writer’ who had the ability to sublimate the emotions and thoughts that I brought up into a novel and resolve them in a positive way.

That’s why I thought working with Tim Burton was so much fun, but also that it wouldn’t end with just one project. I thought it would be something that would allow me to reflect on some of my deep-seated inferiority complexes and come up with ideas for new works.

I’m starting to feel a little tipsy.

I found myself chuckling without realizing it.

‘This is something I would have never imagined in the past.’

Suddenly, the last moments of my previous life came to mind.

Even though I was always drinking with my fellow teachers, Samantha Ann Jack, my inner self continued to be clouded and confused.

But now, no matter how much I look into the darkness within me, I am able to distance myself from it.

It was such a huge change, and I felt good about that.

I took another sip of the half-empty bottle of whiskey and chuckled.

‘Let’s go somewhere.’

I had a feeling that it would be an enjoyable and rewarding task.

***

In mid-October 1986, the midterm exams for the fall semester of the third year were over.

By that time, the timing had been right and the arrangements between Hardboiled Publishers and Warner Brothers had been finalized. After reviewing the terms of the contract Simon had drawn up, I signed the contract to make a film for ‘Mother’ without hesitation.

First, we agreed to receive $100,000 in royalties and $10,000 for the role of script consultant.

Also, with the copyright of ‘Mother’ having been reclaimed from Torrance New Media upon the expiration of the contract, Hardboiled Publishers, which was currently managing the copyright, was to receive 30% of the profits after it broke even, and I was to receive it separately according to my share.

‘Well, this isn’t too bad.’

‘Mother’ was a good piece of work, of course, but it wasn’t as well known to the public as the other pieces that came out after it. Considering that, I thought it was a reasonable amount.

Rather, what surprised me a bit was the part where he said he was paid $10,000 for ‘script consulting’.

‘The film market is certainly large.’

Is it because the amount of money that can be earned when a work sells well is that big?

As I was making a resolution to work hard, not long after, I received a call from Tim Burton.

[Hello, author. This is Tim Burton.]

“Oh. Hello. How have you been?”

[Yes. I’ve been doing well. The reason is that I wanted to research Korean culture and such before starting work on the script. If you have time this weekend, could you please give me some guidance?]

“Of course I should. While we’re on the subject, how about this weekend?”

[Oh, then in Los Angeles on Saturday, is that okay?]

I had to go straight to work right after my exams. I felt like I had gotten busier recently. But at the same time, I was grateful that everyone understood my situation as a college student.

So as soon as the weekend came, I drove straight back to Los Angeles.

The entrance to Koreatown, which I arrived at after a long time.

“God, here. Here.”

The team recognized me and waved.

“Did you have any inconvenience in coming here?”

“Koreatown is pretty famous. I came here right away. But, here······.”

Tim Burton glanced back and his eyes lit up at the sight of a landmark built with a Korean-style roof motif.

“Cool. Korean style.”

“······Thank you.”

I’m a little embarrassed that you like me so blatantly.

“Hangul is a really interesting alphabet. It’s really cute.”

Kimchi, Taekwondo, Gangnam Style······ Ah, this isn’t out yet.

But what I was trying to show wasn’t something that iconic.

The gap between me, a second-generation Korean immigrant, and first-generation Korean immigrants.

In other words, it was a real-life situation that I could not properly understand and that felt bizarre.

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, yes.”

We went a little deeper.

Among the first generation Koreans I remember, there were many who tried not to forget their home country’s culture.

As this tendency merged with the society of America, it developed a unique atmosphere that was neither Korean nor American. While going to church, they also tried to pay respect to their ancestors by performing ancestral rites or burning incense. And the tools and pictures prepared specifically for such people were objects of fear to me as a child.

“Even the holy paintings of Jesus have a somewhat Buddhist feel to them.”

“If it’s a tank······?”

“Oh, that’s what Buddhist paintings are called.”

“Oh, oh······. Then what does this cloth mean?”

“Oh, that.”

Before I could say anything, Mrs. Cheon, who was selling various souvenirs and shamanic items, added her explanation.

Things like the Five-Colored Heaven and so on, I can understand them, but I can’t quite accept them.

This person went to church regularly and got along well with people around him, trying to preserve the culture of his home country. His faith felt beautiful, but at the same time, it seemed strange.

······Ah, now I think I understand what his perspective on the world is like.

“That’s cool.”

The team continued sketching with sparkling eyes.

Then, out of curiosity, he drew Mrs. Cheon. I watched her from behind, thinking, “Hey, is this okay?” Fortunately, she did not draw the portrait in her own style, but in a classic Western style. After she finished drawing, she tore off the page and handed it to the lady.

As we were coming out of our Koreatown tour, Tim opened his mouth in an excited voice.

“I suddenly wondered who determines the difference between normal and abnormal.”

“It must be society. Aren’t we social animals?”

“Yes, but I kept thinking that it was ‘not right.’ This is a really wonderful place. Especially, in the case of Mrs. Chun, whom I met earlier, she is a really beautiful woman. She lives with her own color and is not swayed by anything.”

“Hearing those words, I wonder if it would be rude to dare to describe his life in our own language.”

“That’s why I think this way. Horror is a genre that maximizes prejudice. In fact, isn’t it true that Lovecraft was also a staunch racist?”

“That’s right. If you think about it, it seems like that strong fear and aversion to something may have contributed to the creation of the world known as the Cthulhu Mythos.”

Oh, I didn’t realize it, and I pushed up my non-existent glasses.

······Hey, what is it? This guy is really easy to talk to.

Talking to this man, it seemed like right and wrong had no meaning. I began to think that the discrimination I had experienced was ultimately an act of fear of myself.

Then, is the physical violence that was sometimes experienced during the process also because they were afraid and could not recognize the differences between themselves?

‘I also put up thorns, you know.’

It occurred to me that the world is truly multifaceted.

For those who live in such confusion, isn’t the emotion that the team mentioned earlier inevitable? Is it because he understood that emotion and expressed it in his work that he captured those who sympathized with his emotions as fans?

“I have endless ideas. Later, the company said they would send me books related to Korean culture, and I want to read them and write a script. Oh, I have some ideas now.”

“Could you tell me? There’s a good cafe nearby.”

“Oh! Can I have a special Korean drink there?!”

“······It’s called Ssanghwa-cha.”

“What kind of drink is that?!”

“It is tea that is drunk with the cruelty of one life’s potential.”

“I didn’t know there was such a scary car! Koreans are so brutal!”

“······.”

I never thought someone could say something so cruel as this, like putting an egg yolk in a bowl of steamed buns.

Just as I was starting to think that I should start explaining properly, I noticed something walking across the street.

‘huh?’

Jiwoo Jang, with a white beard that reached down to his chin, was walking briskly down the road.

“······?”

Oh, Jiwoo has entered puberty.

***

Meanwhile, at Han’s, a general store located in the middle of Koreatown, a ‘Bible study’ was in full swing between the store owner and the customers.

“Aye! Godori!”

“Hmm! What the hell!”

“Should I tell you?”

“Even if I can’t eat, I have to go!”

As the shop owner swept through the board, scoring points comparable to the omnipotence of Jesus Christ, Jiwoo Jang, who entered the shop, tried hard to suppress his laughter and greeted him naturally.

“Ma’am~.”

A Bible study chapter organized with him at the speed of light.

“Ji, Jiwoo, you’re here······ You, what’s that look like?!”

The shop owner and the mother of God, Ms. Jeong, opened her eyes wide when she saw Jiwoo, who had a white beard hanging from his face like Santa. And as if she had been waiting for that reaction, Jiwoo Jang, who proudly stretched out her shoulders like a well-fed hamster, said this.

“It’ll be Halloween soon!”

“Hey, do something girly! Do something girly!”

“I want to do something like myself!”

Mrs. Jeong sighed as she watched Jiwoo smile brightly after completing the first stage of costume making.