Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 7 Submission
Halfway through writing the letter, Mrs. Martin's shrill voice pierced through the floorboards, urging the tenants to come downstairs for dinner.

Lionel hadn't fully digested his afternoon meal and didn't want to eat Mrs. Martin's food, which was considered an insult to the dignity of the tongue, so he chose to ignore it.

Anyway, I still have a piece of bread and a slice of salted meat in my arms, so I can eat them when I get hungry.

After carefully considering his wording, he finally finished writing the last sentence of the letter:
In short, please thank Mr. Emil for me. However, a necessary precaution is still necessary. If possible, Father could send a letter to the "Orby Trading Company," and I will also inquire about the Panama Canal in Paris.

Love you all, Leon
...]

After finishing writing, Lionel checked it again to make sure there were no problems before carefully folding it and putting it in the inner pocket of his coat, intending to mail it on his way to school the next day.

The next step is figuring out how to make money.

With the 20 francs his family had just sent, his total assets amounted to just over 110 francs. In Paris, where land is incredibly expensive, that would only last him a maximum of two months, covering rent, food, paper and pens, newspaper and book borrowing, and various other miscellaneous expenses.

If he can't find a way to make money soon, Alps will have to go back whether he wants to or not.

Lionel considered it and concluded that, without affecting his studies, the number of suitable part-time jobs for him was limited to a few types—

One option is to tutor middle-class families, teaching on weekends. If you're lucky, you can earn about 40 to 60 francs a month.

Secondly, he worked as a copyist, working every night and being paid by the page, earning about 3 to 5 sous per page, and about 20 francs per month.

This way, I could barely survive in Paris.

As for other jobs, such as a bookstore assistant or a coffee shop waiter, he was a poor student from another province and would hardly be hired without a guarantor.

Of course, there is a third way—submit your work and become a writer!

This was the golden age of French literature. From Victor Hugo to Balzac, Flaubert, and Zola, all of them achieved wealth accumulation and upward social mobility through writing.

Including Maupassant, whom I just met today—don't be fooled by the fact that he is currently just an unknown government employee who can only entertain guests at "public dining tables," but after the publication of the immortal "Boule de Suif," he quickly resigned from his job and became a full-time writer.

Not long after, they moved to the expensive Dulong Street; a few years later, they were even able to buy a yacht and sail all the way to Italy for vacation.

Lionel's original character was a well-known young scholar in the Alps. He chose to study at the Faculty of Arts of the Sorbonne University, naturally harboring the dream of becoming a great writer.

However, no matter how many times I submitted my work, it was like throwing a stone into the sea, with no response whatsoever.

Lionel took out a stack of papers from his desk drawer—these were manuscripts left behind by the original owner of the body. There were too many memories to sort out after his rebirth, and he had been in a daze for a long time, so he hadn't had time to look at them carefully yet.

Lionel, as a former young lecturer in the Chinese Department of Yenching University, knew all too well the fantasies of young literary enthusiasts, so the titles of these manuscripts gave him a headache—

"Ideal Education," "Love and Reason," "The Sacred Maiden," "Echoes from the Depths of the Alps"...

Each of their articles has a serious face that suggests they are mature beyond their years.

Looking at the content, most of it consists of academic poetry, prose, and literary criticism. Although the writing is not bad, the values ​​are strongly religious and have long been outdated by this era.

Furthermore, the original owner of this body had extremely high ambitions, only submitting articles to major newspapers such as *Le Figaro*, *Le Repubblica*, and *Le Monde*, which naturally yielded no results. It's important to understand that after the great Victor Hugo became a wealthy man and the "conscience of France" through his writing in the 1850s, this path became exceptionally crowded.

Every newspaper and every publisher receives a large number of submissions, and behind each submission is an ambitious young man who wants to become the next Hugo or Balzac.

To paraphrase a sarcastic remark by the editor-in-chief of Le Figaro, "There are more of them than flies in a public toilet!"

So there's no doubt that the manuscripts submitted by Lionel's original self, like the vast majority of other manuscripts, were quietly piled up in the corners of newspapers and publishing houses, and were thrown away once a certain number had accumulated.

This is similar to the Chinese literary scene from the 1990s to the early 21st century.

For a young writer with no connections to succeed, there are essentially only a few paths—

If France were still in the imperial era, the best shortcut would be to participate in a poetry competition held by the French Academy, write a hymn to a certain emperor, and thus gain entry into the literary world.

Of course, there is another path that is universal across all eras: networking.

Start by getting involved in local literary circles, publishing some mediocre poems and short stories in small newspapers. Then, write letters to famous writers to flatter them and attach your own works. If you can get a positive and praising reply, you can use that reply to frequent the offices of newspaper and publishing house owners.

Of course, it would be even better if you could become a student of a great writer, or even just follow him around; you could always find opportunities to get their recommendations.

Alternatively, starting as a journalist and building a reputation and network in the publishing industry before choosing to become a writer is also a viable option.

But regardless of which path he took, Lionel's original self clearly had no experience or social connections in this area, and could only foolishly write outdated articles, hoping that a miracle would happen one day.

Lionel is currently strapped for cash and may go hungry at any moment, leaving him with no way to engage in more social activities. If he does find work as a copyist or tutor, he will squeeze every last drop of free time out of him.

Therefore, he certainly wouldn't continue his relentless attacks on Le Figaro or La Repubblica.

He pulled out a stack of poorly printed newspapers from the corner of the room—newspapers whose ink was so thick that his hands would be covered in ink if he touched them hard—the Lantern Newspaper, the Clown Newspaper, the Noisy Newspaper…

These newspapers are full of juicy gossip and jokes, and the cheapest ones are sold for as little as three shengding each, and they are all outdated newspapers from several months ago.

Lionel's original self collected these newspapers not to read the articles, but to wipe his bottom—although there was a communal toilet at the corner of the apartment building's staircase, the stingy Mrs. Martin obviously wouldn't provide toilet paper.

So these outdated tabloids became the cheapest alternative, costing only 3 sous to solve a month's worth of wiping problems. Aside from leaving a certain area black and shiny, there were no other side effects.

Now, these "toilet paper" articles have become Lionel's lifeline. He devours the various jokes on them, analyzing what Parisian entertainment lovers actually like to read...

If any newspaper owners are willing to open and read submissions immediately, it's definitely these small newspapers, not those large newspapers that sell 10 or 20 copies a day.

After flipping through all the "toilet paper," Lionel was confident and picked up a pen and paper to write diligently. In no time, he had written two whole pages.

This could be considered "testing the waters," right? It shouldn't be done too much, otherwise the sunk costs will be too high.

The only problem was the signature. Signing with his real name could easily lead to future scandals, and using a pseudonym... After a moment's thought, Lionel wrote down a few words:
"An honest Parisian"

(End of this chapter)