A special creative fairy tale by Han Yun-seop that connects the chain of 'thoughts' to reach 'stories'!

Author Han Yun-seop, who made his literary debut in 2010 by winning the grand prize at the 11th Munhakdongne Children's Literature Award for 『Bonjour, Tour』, has been consistently chosen and loved by both children and adult readers for his novel compositions, sophisticated writing style, and unique worldview through works such as 『The Child Who Delivers Letters』, 『Harriet』, 『Your Destiny』, and 『Garden in the Forest』. He is considered one of the rare authors who has consistently been chosen and loved by both children and adult readers for his novel compositions, sophisticated writing style, and unique worldview.
This time, he presents a new fairy tale, 『The God of Stories』, written with more dedication than ever before.
Author Han Yun-seop, who was praised by literary critic Kim Ji-eun as “the greatest storyteller of our time” in his book “Garden in the Forest,” published earlier this year, has decided to make “story” his main topic in “The God of Stories.”

The beginning of the 'story' can be said to be the beginning of the universe.
Because from the moment something exists, a story is created.
So people living on Earth in space love stories.
New stories, funny stories, scary stories, funny stories, sad stories, etc.
Stories are memories of times past, imaginations of unknown worlds, expectations of the future to come, and curiosity about lives never lived.
As we live in such stories, we ourselves become stories.
I hope that children who read "The God of Stories" will have more useless thoughts and experience putting stories into things they had previously overlooked.
This is a fairy tale that started with this thought.
I hope the kids enjoy reading it.
_From the author's note

In other words, we can all create stories and become the main characters of those stories.
This book is distinctly different from other fairy tales in that the author introduces a specific character and then weaves and weaves together various plot threads to lead the story forward.
It is a method of filling in the blanks together with the reader by putting forward a medium that is unclear whether it is a notebook or a book, that is, the ‘god of storytelling.’
So, as you turn each page of the book, you will not only be immersed in the fun of the story, but you will also have the mysterious and surprising experience of 'creating a story' without even realizing it.
Now, we can truly experience the taste and power of the 'story' that only author Han Yun-seop can create.

Grandmother Reading a Book
I picked up the book carefully.
The cover reads, "The God of Stories," but the title is not printed, but hand-written in bold ink.
I flipped through the bookshelf.
“This isn’t a book, it’s a notebook?”
“You could call it a notebook, or you could call it a book.”
It was a bit of a strange answer.
As she said that, the grandmother still looked into the distance.
“But where do you look like that every day?”
“I’m looking at the world.
I'm creating stories while looking at the world.
If I sit here, stories will just pour out.
“It’s like it’s raining.”
Grandma said something strange again.
"You're saying stories are pouring out? What kind of stories are they?"
“All the stories in the world.
It's still pouring down.
“You too, just sit still and feel it.”
At that moment, I thought my grandmother might be crazy.
Otherwise, there would be no way I could continue to say such incomprehensible things.

---pp.16~17

Legendary Musical Actor
“After he became an adult, he saw a musical and was so moved that he dreamed of becoming a musical actor.
The image of the actors singing on stage stayed in my mind for a long time.
I desperately wanted to stand on that kind of stage too.
But that was a dream that shouldn't have happened.
[syncopation]
Anyway, since I had a dream, I started working hard to make it come true.
I searched for a place that would fix my tone deafness.
But no matter how famous the hospital and tone-deaf clinic I went to, it was no use.
At first, everyone was confident, but eventually they all gave up.
But the dream doesn't disappear, it just grows bigger.
It kept puffing up like a balloon, to the point where I couldn't control it.
One day, when my dreams were so inflated that they seemed like they would burst, I had this thought before falling asleep.
He said that he would give up his youth if he could sing well, and that if there was a God, he would give him the remaining time and buy him a song.
It was that desperate.
And then one night, a few days later, someone came looking for him.
Actually, I couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality.
Because he came to the room where I was sleeping.
He was wearing a nice suit and a black fedora, but you couldn't tell if he was a man or a woman.
That guy made a suggestion.
He said he would make me sing really well, but in return he would take my youth.
When he heard that the man could sing well, he lost his judgment and accepted the offer.
But that was the devil.”
---pp.35~38

The Missing Driver
“But don’t you want to go and see that car right now? There might be something inside.”
The grandmother saw the car in the parking lot.
“What I just said was just a story.
“I don’t think there’s any need to go out of your way to see it.”
Even though I said that, I still felt scared.
If I went to the car, it seemed like there would actually be something there.
"that's right.
“The car over there is real, and what you made up is just a story.”
It was fortunate that the story ended there.
Meanwhile, on the bench across from me, there was a musical grandfather.
Grandfather sat on the bench with a book in his hand, as he had the day before, and cleared his throat as if he were speaking.
“Do you happen to know that old man?”
“No, I don’t know him.
“I’ve seen it a few times while sitting here.”
I didn't ask any more.
As my grandmother said, it was just a coincidence.
“I have to go now.
“I heard a story from you that I’ve never heard before, so that’s enough for today.”
So the grandmother left the bench.
'A story that never existed in the world', I remained in my seat for a while, thinking about those words.
And I looked around.
The sun was shining through the trees and a breeze blew occasionally.
But somehow, it felt different than usual.
Then the white car came into view again.
I got up from the bench and went to where the white car was.
The car was covered in dust, as if it had not been moved for a long time.
I approached closer and carefully looked into the driver's seat.
At that moment, I was shocked.

---pp.59~61

The Moving Tree
The grandmother leaned back on the bench, stretched out her arms, and looked up at the sky.
“You try it too.”
I hesitated for a moment and then followed my grandmother's lead.
“I just lie down like this and look at the ceiling and think.
It's nice to look at the sky like this.
You keep thinking useless thoughts.
Ten minutes is enough.
There are a lot of things in the living room too.
Things like chairs, tables, and small flower pots.
Things like that will help.
For example, if it's a chair... ..., first think about the chair flying.
It's not difficult.
Then I think about where the chair came from.
Where did that chair come from? It didn't just suddenly fall into your living room.
The chair must have been made of some kind of wood.
Think about any tree that turns into a chair.
And think about the lives of the monkeys and ants that lived in that tree.
How about this? Imagine how many leaves that tree would have produced from the time it was born until it died.
“How many fruits did it produce? Or how many days did it live exactly?”
My grandmother's words were forming scenes in my head like a movie.
A large tree was sprouting, producing leaves, and bearing fruit.

---pp.63~65