29.9 years old
 |
Description
Book Introduction
The twelfth story of Nanda's timely arrival in 2025!
Poet Go Seon-gyeong collected them every day
of December, by December, for December
Just one book to read
At 29.9 years old, I will wander around looking for 0.1.
Nothing has ended and nothing has begun
That's what I learned from December.
The book for December in the Nanda Timely Series, the last month of 2025, is 『29.9 Years Old』, the second collection of essays by poet Ko Seon-gyeong, who began her career through the 2022 Chosun Ilbo New Year's Literary Contest.
He predicted the future of poetry with “a poetic spirit that weaves together the meaning of ‘luck’ that is both blunt and perceptive, and that penetrates and communicates, with jokes” (Jeong Gyeot-byeol, Lee Moon-jae), and he has garnered enthusiastic support and love from readers with poetry collections such as “Shower Gel and Soda Water” (Munhakdongne, 2023) and “A Tomato Stronger Than the Heart” (Yeollimwon, 2025).
In this book, Go Seon-gyeong captures her memories of the time when she was facing the end of her twenties, when she was so excited and nervous that her palms sweated, that she often found it funny (“I Live Here”), through poetry, prose, letters, and a diary.
For the poet, December is a month where nothing has ended and nothing has begun, a month where one can dream forever, relying on the possibility of 0.1.
The last month of the year and the last month of my twenties, a time to reflect on and savor the love that makes me want to throw myself into it (“I’m already in love with you before I even want to”).
A desolate and beautiful winter day, scattered with snowstorms, breath, white light, and the scent of cherries ("Snowball").
The poet still lives in the parts he wants to hide, like his knees that were bruised purple from falling down drunk (author's note) and his mind that was in a state of disarray in an instant ("Winter Baby").
But he's not afraid to get sloppy, and despite countless disappointments, he still holds out hope.
He suffers from unrequited love filled with longing and an inferiority complex, and is heartbroken because he cannot see his favorite idol up close, but he ends up finding a way to make the ordinary snack taste better (9th essay).
Even if I slip and fall a lot on the icy roads in the middle of winter ("I Live Here"), I can continue to live while holding on to my heart that has been torn apart by disappointment, hurt, and hope again ("Leaning on You").
Poet Go Seon-gyeong collected them every day
of December, by December, for December
Just one book to read
At 29.9 years old, I will wander around looking for 0.1.
Nothing has ended and nothing has begun
That's what I learned from December.
The book for December in the Nanda Timely Series, the last month of 2025, is 『29.9 Years Old』, the second collection of essays by poet Ko Seon-gyeong, who began her career through the 2022 Chosun Ilbo New Year's Literary Contest.
He predicted the future of poetry with “a poetic spirit that weaves together the meaning of ‘luck’ that is both blunt and perceptive, and that penetrates and communicates, with jokes” (Jeong Gyeot-byeol, Lee Moon-jae), and he has garnered enthusiastic support and love from readers with poetry collections such as “Shower Gel and Soda Water” (Munhakdongne, 2023) and “A Tomato Stronger Than the Heart” (Yeollimwon, 2025).
In this book, Go Seon-gyeong captures her memories of the time when she was facing the end of her twenties, when she was so excited and nervous that her palms sweated, that she often found it funny (“I Live Here”), through poetry, prose, letters, and a diary.
For the poet, December is a month where nothing has ended and nothing has begun, a month where one can dream forever, relying on the possibility of 0.1.
The last month of the year and the last month of my twenties, a time to reflect on and savor the love that makes me want to throw myself into it (“I’m already in love with you before I even want to”).
A desolate and beautiful winter day, scattered with snowstorms, breath, white light, and the scent of cherries ("Snowball").
The poet still lives in the parts he wants to hide, like his knees that were bruised purple from falling down drunk (author's note) and his mind that was in a state of disarray in an instant ("Winter Baby").
But he's not afraid to get sloppy, and despite countless disappointments, he still holds out hope.
He suffers from unrequited love filled with longing and an inferiority complex, and is heartbroken because he cannot see his favorite idol up close, but he ends up finding a way to make the ordinary snack taste better (9th essay).
Even if I slip and fall a lot on the icy roads in the middle of winter ("I Live Here"), I can continue to live while holding on to my heart that has been torn apart by disappointment, hurt, and hope again ("Leaning on You").
- You can preview some of the book's contents.
Preview
index
Author's Note: I Live Here 7
December 1st, 13th effort
December 2nd Prose Stollen 17
December 3rd Poem December Blues 23
Winter 29 after the December 4th snowstorm warning
Fireworks ban on December 5th 35
December 6th Prose My Winter Grave 39
Address 45 left in Taipei on December 7th
December 8th, Poem Winter Baby 49
December 9th Prose Fatally Sweet 53
December 10th Prose Milk Tea and French Toast 59
December 11th, 63rd Road from Shimsha Chui to Beach
December 12th Prose I'm Already in Love Before I Want It 67
December 13th Prose Our Comedy 73
December 14th Diary: Always Need a Sip of Love 77
December 15th, Winter Growing 83
December 16th, Prose, 29.9 years old, 87
December 17th, Prose Unhoe-eop's Birthday 93
December 18th, to tell you the truth, 99
December 19th Note: The moment I thought about writing a poem titled "I'm Okay Even If I Die," I realized I couldn't write something like "I'm Okay Even If I Die." 103
December 20th Letter to You Expectation 107
December 21st: I'm so pissed off that I'm failing without taking notes. 115
December 22nd, 119th Future in the Fireplace
December 23rd Prose Game is 123
December 24th Prose There is no way that the scent of green grapes would have come out, but 127
December 25th, City Snowball 133
December 26th Prose Game, Not a Slapstick Game 137
December 27th Prose I feel this love almost as a flash of pain 143
December 28, 149
December 29th Diary Memories After the Memory 157
December 30th, 161st floor, Cheongnyangni Station
165 people who will stay until the end at the amusement park that closed on December 31st
December 1st, 13th effort
December 2nd Prose Stollen 17
December 3rd Poem December Blues 23
Winter 29 after the December 4th snowstorm warning
Fireworks ban on December 5th 35
December 6th Prose My Winter Grave 39
Address 45 left in Taipei on December 7th
December 8th, Poem Winter Baby 49
December 9th Prose Fatally Sweet 53
December 10th Prose Milk Tea and French Toast 59
December 11th, 63rd Road from Shimsha Chui to Beach
December 12th Prose I'm Already in Love Before I Want It 67
December 13th Prose Our Comedy 73
December 14th Diary: Always Need a Sip of Love 77
December 15th, Winter Growing 83
December 16th, Prose, 29.9 years old, 87
December 17th, Prose Unhoe-eop's Birthday 93
December 18th, to tell you the truth, 99
December 19th Note: The moment I thought about writing a poem titled "I'm Okay Even If I Die," I realized I couldn't write something like "I'm Okay Even If I Die." 103
December 20th Letter to You Expectation 107
December 21st: I'm so pissed off that I'm failing without taking notes. 115
December 22nd, 119th Future in the Fireplace
December 23rd Prose Game is 123
December 24th Prose There is no way that the scent of green grapes would have come out, but 127
December 25th, City Snowball 133
December 26th Prose Game, Not a Slapstick Game 137
December 27th Prose I feel this love almost as a flash of pain 143
December 28, 149
December 29th Diary Memories After the Memory 157
December 30th, 161st floor, Cheongnyangni Station
165 people who will stay until the end at the amusement park that closed on December 31st
Into the book
My twenties were filled with excitement and heart pounding, with sweaty palms and nervousness that often made me laugh, with countless shakings that made me feel seasick, and with love that was equal to the remainder minus 0.1.
---From "I Live Here"
My grandmothers made my younger siblings and I sit on the warmest floor.
So, when I think of my childhood winter memories, the first thing that comes to mind is the boiling floor of a country house.
(…) That’s when I realized that if your skin touches something that’s too hot, it can even sting.
---From "My Winter Grave"
Who knew such a simple way to enjoy a delicious Choco Pie! I soon discovered the optimal time (five seconds in the microwave) to melt the chocolate coating on the Choco Pie and the marshmallow between the pieces until they're perfectly melted.
(…) I smell longing and inferiority complex from somewhere.
Fatally sweet.
---From "Fatally Sweet"
Maybe I will want to be loved even when I am eighty, or even after I die.
I want love, even though that feeling sometimes makes me lonely.
Actually, I already love you before I even wanted to.
---From "I'm already in love with you before I even want to be"
I'll wait for the day when countless shooting stars will fall and write it on your calendar.
That alone won't solve your long-standing insomnia, but it might at least extend your future. I want to make you feel like you can sleep deeply, even if you can't.
---From "Expecting You"
She would open different gift boxes every year, but one Christmas she would suddenly realize that there were no more boxes to open, and even if there were boxes, she would become a petty adult who no longer felt much emotion toward presents. Was that future too obvious?
---From "Snowball"
I like that you, who often reads love as boasting and I, who reads boasting as love, can be helpless at the same time.
---From "I Live Here"
My grandmothers made my younger siblings and I sit on the warmest floor.
So, when I think of my childhood winter memories, the first thing that comes to mind is the boiling floor of a country house.
(…) That’s when I realized that if your skin touches something that’s too hot, it can even sting.
---From "My Winter Grave"
Who knew such a simple way to enjoy a delicious Choco Pie! I soon discovered the optimal time (five seconds in the microwave) to melt the chocolate coating on the Choco Pie and the marshmallow between the pieces until they're perfectly melted.
(…) I smell longing and inferiority complex from somewhere.
Fatally sweet.
---From "Fatally Sweet"
Maybe I will want to be loved even when I am eighty, or even after I die.
I want love, even though that feeling sometimes makes me lonely.
Actually, I already love you before I even wanted to.
---From "I'm already in love with you before I even want to be"
I'll wait for the day when countless shooting stars will fall and write it on your calendar.
That alone won't solve your long-standing insomnia, but it might at least extend your future. I want to make you feel like you can sleep deeply, even if you can't.
---From "Expecting You"
She would open different gift boxes every year, but one Christmas she would suddenly realize that there were no more boxes to open, and even if there were boxes, she would become a petty adult who no longer felt much emotion toward presents. Was that future too obvious?
---From "Snowball"
I like that you, who often reads love as boasting and I, who reads boasting as love, can be helpless at the same time.
---From "Nuduk Nuduk"
Publisher's Review
My dream is to never stop loving people.
I want to take good care of this dream so that it doesn't get hurt.
When the poet was young, he vaguely thought that by the time he turned thirty, he would be a cool adult like the main character in a movie or drama.
Thirty seemed like a distant and unattainable moment, and in my imagination it was a truly dazzling moment.
But thirty-year-old Go Seon-gyeong is just a person who thinks about how to have more fun (“My Winter Grave”) and writes as if it were some kind of ominous, strange, and crazy fun rumor (Letter on the 20th).
Although he is still far from the ideal age of thirty he dreamed of as a child, the poet consistently devises clever ways to love and be loved more.
These days, I often think about specific types of love.
I ask a question while imagining the moment when I feel the shape of affection, like when I let go of the hand I was holding, and when an unreadable fingerprint flows down my hand (prose on the 27th).
Can you love your life? For poets, it's a question with a definitive answer.
I want to have a more interesting love than reading Frank O'Hara or James Tate poetry while being scolded for spilling a Coke on my T-shirt while sharing it at home ("I feel this love almost sparkles like pain").
Even if the world doesn't dream of a better world ("December Blues"), I can't help but feel confident that I won't love this life (Prose on the 31st).
He gradually approaches his thirties, embracing memories like candy wrappers that nothing can wrap or package (“It couldn’t possibly have smelled like green grapes”).
This is an open secret,
Your future poetry is probably expecting you
It's frustrating to lose something without using it.
So, the poet does not get disappointed when he cannot write, but writes only as much as he can (21 days).
To move into the future, he needs to have the 'belief that he can write every day, even if he doesn't actually write every day.'
That belief is similar to the process of thoughts that are too cool, too gloomy, or too cool and gloomy (7-day prose) passing through the mind that likes them becoming poetry.
Countless moments of creation are indebted to the power of love, which, though strange, is certainly something extraordinary (14th diary entry).
Sometimes, things like trying to figure out the future that Mom or Dad unfortunately missed ("Our Comedy"), going to get your fortune read for the New Year and getting an unpleasant horoscope and feeling a little depressed (prose on the 20th), are concretized through writing poetry, with words that are so honest that they don't make sense, and sometimes words that feel absurd or even ridiculous (prose on the 27th).
The poet says that the desperate struggle and begging to be loved is disgusting, but isn't the attempt to express one's true feelings in itself proof of the existence of love and a form of poetic courage?
Even after much regret, much sadness, and much crying, there will still be an extra life and an extra us (letter on the 20th).
So, with a ‘heart that has endured winter’ (『A Tomato Stronger Than the Heart』), I dream big and dance to my heart’s content.
Like a strawberry that has endured the storm and grown stronger, I extend my future with boundless joy.
I think making a living doing what you love is a blessing that doesn't come often.
That doesn't mean every day is full of stress and dazzling light.
Sometimes this work tires me out and makes me doubt myself.
But as long as I'm doing this, I don't want to complain about the difficulties of the job.
Because love is always accompanied by wonder and fatigue.
So I'm still trying to figure out how to love this for a long time.
- December 16th, Prose, "29.9 Years Old"
* Introducing the 'Timely' series.
Timely and appropriate with the appropriateness of poetry!
Instead of seasonal food, read a seasonal book.
Nanda's 'Timely' series continues in 2025.
Twelve books written in relay by twelve poets.
One story a day, one book a month, 365 stories a year.
What kind of heat is summer to the poet, and what kind of joy is winter?
How does the poet treat January 1st, and how is December 31st different in poetry?
We take a peek into the daily lives of poets who write poetry every single day, without fail, custom-tailored to their needs.
I asked the poets to each take on a 'moon' that was perfect for them and play freely in and out of their poems.
One article per day, so thirty or thirty-one articles were written per month.
(Because of the calendar, there is a February with twenty-eight poems.) Above all, of course, I made newly written poems the pillar of the book.
Together, we were surrounded by thoughts that became poetry, a day we met through poetry, a love letter to poetry, and a fierce struggle with poetry.
In short, it is a collection of poetry as well as prose.
One thing is certain, however: there is no day without poetry for a poet.
Since each episode is not very long, it would be perfect to read one episode a day from the 1st to the 31st.
If you read it for twelve months, your bookshelves will be filled with poems every day.
The year will be full of poetry.
If we read each day as if we were turning the pages of a diary or tearing off a calendar, our clock will become our four seasons.
So, it's a good book to read anytime, and it's even better when you read along!
This project started with the idea that there are only seasonal foods and seasonal books.
Looking at those names, I believe you will nod in agreement that the moon and the poet are truly a perfect match, and that the meeting of time and poetry is truly apt.
The diary from January 1st, the poem from May 5th, and the note from December 25th will knock on your door in the morning and guard your bedside at night.
If you look at it that way, these writings might not all be one letter.
A letter sent by poetry every day, the content must be about love.
[ 2025 Timely Lineup ]
January Jeong Gyeot-byeol / February Im Gyeong-seop / March Kim Yong-taek / April Lee Hwon / May Park Se-mi / June Lee Woo-seong
July Park Ji-il / August Baek Eun-seon / September Yoo Gye-young / October Kim Yeon-deok / November Oh Byeong-ryang / December Go Seon-gyeong
* Please note in advance that the author may change due to circumstances.
* The cover of Timely in 2025 is by writer and photographer Jang Woo-cheol.
I want to take good care of this dream so that it doesn't get hurt.
When the poet was young, he vaguely thought that by the time he turned thirty, he would be a cool adult like the main character in a movie or drama.
Thirty seemed like a distant and unattainable moment, and in my imagination it was a truly dazzling moment.
But thirty-year-old Go Seon-gyeong is just a person who thinks about how to have more fun (“My Winter Grave”) and writes as if it were some kind of ominous, strange, and crazy fun rumor (Letter on the 20th).
Although he is still far from the ideal age of thirty he dreamed of as a child, the poet consistently devises clever ways to love and be loved more.
These days, I often think about specific types of love.
I ask a question while imagining the moment when I feel the shape of affection, like when I let go of the hand I was holding, and when an unreadable fingerprint flows down my hand (prose on the 27th).
Can you love your life? For poets, it's a question with a definitive answer.
I want to have a more interesting love than reading Frank O'Hara or James Tate poetry while being scolded for spilling a Coke on my T-shirt while sharing it at home ("I feel this love almost sparkles like pain").
Even if the world doesn't dream of a better world ("December Blues"), I can't help but feel confident that I won't love this life (Prose on the 31st).
He gradually approaches his thirties, embracing memories like candy wrappers that nothing can wrap or package (“It couldn’t possibly have smelled like green grapes”).
This is an open secret,
Your future poetry is probably expecting you
It's frustrating to lose something without using it.
So, the poet does not get disappointed when he cannot write, but writes only as much as he can (21 days).
To move into the future, he needs to have the 'belief that he can write every day, even if he doesn't actually write every day.'
That belief is similar to the process of thoughts that are too cool, too gloomy, or too cool and gloomy (7-day prose) passing through the mind that likes them becoming poetry.
Countless moments of creation are indebted to the power of love, which, though strange, is certainly something extraordinary (14th diary entry).
Sometimes, things like trying to figure out the future that Mom or Dad unfortunately missed ("Our Comedy"), going to get your fortune read for the New Year and getting an unpleasant horoscope and feeling a little depressed (prose on the 20th), are concretized through writing poetry, with words that are so honest that they don't make sense, and sometimes words that feel absurd or even ridiculous (prose on the 27th).
The poet says that the desperate struggle and begging to be loved is disgusting, but isn't the attempt to express one's true feelings in itself proof of the existence of love and a form of poetic courage?
Even after much regret, much sadness, and much crying, there will still be an extra life and an extra us (letter on the 20th).
So, with a ‘heart that has endured winter’ (『A Tomato Stronger Than the Heart』), I dream big and dance to my heart’s content.
Like a strawberry that has endured the storm and grown stronger, I extend my future with boundless joy.
I think making a living doing what you love is a blessing that doesn't come often.
That doesn't mean every day is full of stress and dazzling light.
Sometimes this work tires me out and makes me doubt myself.
But as long as I'm doing this, I don't want to complain about the difficulties of the job.
Because love is always accompanied by wonder and fatigue.
So I'm still trying to figure out how to love this for a long time.
- December 16th, Prose, "29.9 Years Old"
* Introducing the 'Timely' series.
Timely and appropriate with the appropriateness of poetry!
Instead of seasonal food, read a seasonal book.
Nanda's 'Timely' series continues in 2025.
Twelve books written in relay by twelve poets.
One story a day, one book a month, 365 stories a year.
What kind of heat is summer to the poet, and what kind of joy is winter?
How does the poet treat January 1st, and how is December 31st different in poetry?
We take a peek into the daily lives of poets who write poetry every single day, without fail, custom-tailored to their needs.
I asked the poets to each take on a 'moon' that was perfect for them and play freely in and out of their poems.
One article per day, so thirty or thirty-one articles were written per month.
(Because of the calendar, there is a February with twenty-eight poems.) Above all, of course, I made newly written poems the pillar of the book.
Together, we were surrounded by thoughts that became poetry, a day we met through poetry, a love letter to poetry, and a fierce struggle with poetry.
In short, it is a collection of poetry as well as prose.
One thing is certain, however: there is no day without poetry for a poet.
Since each episode is not very long, it would be perfect to read one episode a day from the 1st to the 31st.
If you read it for twelve months, your bookshelves will be filled with poems every day.
The year will be full of poetry.
If we read each day as if we were turning the pages of a diary or tearing off a calendar, our clock will become our four seasons.
So, it's a good book to read anytime, and it's even better when you read along!
This project started with the idea that there are only seasonal foods and seasonal books.
Looking at those names, I believe you will nod in agreement that the moon and the poet are truly a perfect match, and that the meeting of time and poetry is truly apt.
The diary from January 1st, the poem from May 5th, and the note from December 25th will knock on your door in the morning and guard your bedside at night.
If you look at it that way, these writings might not all be one letter.
A letter sent by poetry every day, the content must be about love.
[ 2025 Timely Lineup ]
January Jeong Gyeot-byeol / February Im Gyeong-seop / March Kim Yong-taek / April Lee Hwon / May Park Se-mi / June Lee Woo-seong
July Park Ji-il / August Baek Eun-seon / September Yoo Gye-young / October Kim Yeon-deok / November Oh Byeong-ryang / December Go Seon-gyeong
* Please note in advance that the author may change due to circumstances.
* The cover of Timely in 2025 is by writer and photographer Jang Woo-cheol.
GOODS SPECIFICS
- Date of issue: December 1, 2025
- Page count, weight, size: 172 pages | 222g | 120*185*12mm
- ISBN13: 9791124065037
- ISBN10: 1124065032
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