A time when I met names that were once widely known around the world
The moment I fell in love with the one and only voice in the world
The most beautiful purple travelogue of my life

The new work, "The Shirley Club," by Park Seo-ryeon, a new writer who debuted in 2015 with "Practical Literature" and won the 23rd Hankyoreh Literary Award for her novel "The Worker Kang Ju-ryong," has been published as the 29th book in Minumsa's [Today's Young Writers] series.
"The Shirley Club" talks about the love that makes us strong people.
It also talks about the solidarity that makes us good people.
The Shirley Club is a novel of exotic purple love.
It is a novel of solidarity as strong as a rock in the desert.
And above all, it is a lovely novel, like enjoying macaroni pizza on the beach.
And so, as we read this novel, we will sense that we still have love left in us, that even the smallest good intentions contain a trace of love, and that this love, when gathered together, forms our identity.

Melbourne, the world's second most livable city.
Melbourne, the city of festivals.
November 2nd of that year was the opening day of the Melbourne Cup Festival, one of the largest festivals not only in Melbourne and Victoria, but also throughout Oceania.
There are only two things I can say about the Melbourne Cup.
One, it's a really big festival.
Second, people wear strange hats during the festival.
Perhaps the protagonist's feelings from the plane could have continued.
The fact that the day I first set foot in Australia was New Year's Day in some world and the day of the city's biggest festival, could it be interpreted as meaning that the world welcomed me?
But there haven't been many devices since then that could sustain that interpretation.
The hostel I had booked was a 3-minute walk from Southern Cross Station in downtown Melbourne.
Southern Cross Station is also the destination for Melbourne City Airport buses.
Perhaps because the intervals between buses were close together, there weren't many passengers on the airport bus.
So, that means it was good up to here.
I didn't even bother looking for it, but the accommodation I found was right next to the airport bus terminal. I thought that such wonderful coincidences would continue to happen in the future, such as the comfortable bus that was worth the expensive ticket price.
I even pictured huge trailers I'd never seen before passing by in the next lane, overturning and crashing into my bus.
Still, I wasn't anxious.

--- pp.12~13

Grandma Shirley Payton's house was small and beautiful.
I walked past the white picket fence and the well-kept garden, took a deep breath in front of the door, and rang the bell.
“Who are you?”
“Hello, this is Shirley.”
“Oh my, I’m here.”
Is this a joke? Can I laugh? Finally, a glass door with gold paint and several overlapping circles drawn on a grid pattern, along lines that resembled flowers, opened, and Grandma Peyton emerged.
My grandmother was about a fist shorter than me, who was not very tall even for a Korean.
“Thanks for coming, you’re early.”
While Shirley was waiting in the reception room, three more people came.
There were five Shirleys gathered, including Grandma Peyton and me.
Originally, it was said that aside from large annual events including participation in the Melbourne Community Festival, it was mainly small-scale social gatherings at the neighborhood level.
Grandma Peyton kept greeting her guests with the same joke.
Who are you, Shirley? So am I, me too, me either!
--- p.64

When I woke up, Dora and Linda were gone.
I was lying on the lower bunk bed and I could hear snoring from upstairs.
It seemed to be Peter.
S was asleep with one arm leaning against the foot of the bed I was lying on and his head resting there.
I felt S's elbow touching my knee through the blanket.

At that moment, the realization that I liked this person washed over me like an inescapable wave.
I had to come to terms with this fact.
The very fact that I 'have' this person brings me such great comfort and gratitude.
Ever since I met this person, I've always needed him, but I've been pretending not to know.
There was a strange thrill in admitting it, a thrill I had never felt before.
I like this person.
I like this person.
This person
I like it.
To me, that was a very simple and devastating fact.
While I was thinking that, I was staring at S's sleeping face when S opened his eyes.
And he said hello in his characteristic purple voice.
“Are you awake?”

--- pp.123~124