'One Lucky Day' ['Our Story About Today']

A text message arrived for Jo Myeong-ju just before noon.

"Author, 'Classic Anthology' has gone into a second printing! Please let us know if you have any revisions!"

"A — a second printing? Me?"

Jo jolted upright in bed, stunned.

She had taken her first steps as a novelist ten years earlier, at 31, after placing in a small writing competition. In the years since, she had published three full-length novels and four anthologies — yet not one had ever gone back to press. For a book released more than six months ago to suddenly earn a second printing was extraordinary. She fired off a quick thank-you reply, then headed to the kitchen. She made herself a packet of instant coffee, sipped it slowly, and opened a portal site on her phone to search her own name.

The ego-search turned up little. Results were dominated by other people named Jo Myeong-ju. Searching "Classic Anthology" and "One Lucky Day" fared no better — only the handful of reviews written during a book-launch event six months earlier kept cycling up. Social media was equally quiet, so she turned, as a last resort, to YouTube.

Searching "Author Jo Myeong-ju" on YouTube normally brings up a debut interview at the top of the results. The view count on that video climbs by one each day — Jo herself clicks it every day. She expected the same video to appear today. Instead, something else came up first.

Full reading of Jo Myeong-ju's novel "One Lucky Day."

The previous year, Jo had contributed to a classic anthology — a project in which ten writers each selected a Korean classic short story and reinterpreted it. She had chosen Hyun Jin-geon's "One Lucky Day." Seeing that story on YouTube, she clicked the video in surprise. Over AI-generated visuals, the narrator introduced himself as a professional voice actor. He said the novel had moved him deeply and that he had recorded a full reading of it, adding that he had produced the content with the copyright holder's permission. The video had already surpassed 10,000 views.

"Could the second printing really be because of this? But more to the point — why didn't anyone contact me before making this?"

The unease faded quickly. The news of the second printing and the voice actor's praise had her feeling rather pleased with herself. That day, she kept the video running in the background like a soundtrack all day long, playing it whenever she had a spare moment.

The next morning, Jo opened YouTube before the portal site — something she never normally did. "One Lucky Day" had already racked up more than 30,000 views.

"That's far more than the total number of copies I've ever sold!"

Jo calculated what she would earn if 30,000 copies sold, then settled in to wait for the publisher to call — perhaps with news of another print run, and a conversation about YouTube revenue.

A day passed, then two. The publisher said nothing. Meanwhile the view count climbed consistently before suddenly soaring to 340,000.

Excited, Jo searched "YouTube revenue at 340,000 views." She could not find a figure for exactly that number, but came across a post suggesting roughly 300,000 won (about $198) per 100,000 views. Disappointed by how little that was, she told herself it was still something — and immediately emailed the publisher with the YouTube link, asking how revenue would be shared.

An hour later, the publisher replied.

"We do not permit full recordings outside of audio-book platforms with which we have formal secondary-rights agreements. Having reviewed the channel you mentioned, it appears the full text was recorded and uploaded without our authorization. We will file a report on this video immediately."

In other words, the video had gone up without permission. Jo felt a surge of indignation, but it did not seem like something to take up with the publisher — after all, this was the house that had just given her the first second printing of her career. She sent a brief acknowledgment and pulled up the YouTube video again. The view count had climbed further; it was now past 500,000.

"It went up again? If the video gets taken down, what happens to the revenue?"

She searched "YouTube revenue when video is deleted" and an AI answer appeared: revenue could still be collected even after a video was removed. There was also a note that in the worst case, a report might result only in a warning, with the video left up.

"Wait. If this video hits a million views and then gets deleted, does that voice actor pocket all the money himself?"

Jo was furious. She wanted to stop the situation before the view count climbed any higher, so she went straight to the video and left a comment.

"Hello, I'm the author who wrote this novel. I never gave permission for this video. I would appreciate it if you took it down immediately."

She waited, but nothing happened. She tracked down the channel's email address and sent the same message. A read receipt came back within ten minutes. She watched the channel, expecting the video to disappear — but nothing changed. Exasperated, she posted another comment.

"Have you no conscience? Why haven't you taken the video down? Please remove it now. — Author Jo Myeong-ju"

She expected that to get a reaction. Instead, strange replies appeared.

"Lol someone pretending to be the author just trolling"

"Wow, video blows up and all kinds of people crawl out lol. This channel gets all its permissions properly."

"Stay strong! Don't let the weird comments get to you!"

"I am the author!"

Jo shouted at the screen in frustration, but it had no effect on the view count. It had already passed one million and was now racing toward two million.

The next morning, the publisher called.

"Author, we've gone back to press again! Congratulations!"

Jo felt no joy. The YouTube situation was weighing on her. When she brought it up, the editor let out a hollow laugh.

"Do you really think the video is what's selling the books…?"

"Still, taking it down would be the right thing to do…"

"I suppose so…"

Neither said what both were thinking.

After hanging up, Jo refreshed the YouTube page one more time. She watched the view count tick sharply upward and sat with her thoughts.

"If I leave it up, that channel will keep making money. But if the video is what's selling the book — shouldn't I just let it be?"

No matter how long she turned it over, she could not reach a conclusion. Instead, the final line of Hyun Jin-geon's "One Lucky Day" kept coming back to her.

"I had a feeling it was too lucky a day… and yet here I am — books selling, and not a drop of happiness."

숨이 차오를 때까지 [‘오늘’에 대한 우리 이야기]

나는 그저 달리고 있었다. 산책로를 따라 걷다가 분노에 차올라 무작정 달렸을 뿐이다. 비탈진 흙길에서 뛰려니 숨이 차오르고 열이 치솟았다. 그래도 멈추고 싶지 않았다.

https://biz.heraldcorp.com/article/10740580

Running Until Out of Breath ['Our Story About Today']

I was merely running. I had been walking along a trail when anger welled up inside me and I took off without thinking. Sprinting up a muddy slope, I felt my lungs burn and heat soar through my body. Still, I did not want to stop.

carrier@heraldcorp.com