Fantasy novels, are they out of style recently?
Wang Jian continued searching the rankings.
Suddenly, he discovered sothing that appeared to be a fantasy novel, Dragons of Autumn Twilight.
It ranked 19th on the bestseller list.
The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, etc., were also in the top 100 on the bestseller list.
But the key issue was, there were no fantasy novels written in recent years!
Had readers' tastes changed recently, and new books couldn't make it big?
Or, was it that no author wanted to write fantasy novels recently?
Wang Jian felt a little frustrated. Did I'm a Great Mage match the taste of contemporary Aricans?
Most importantly, could it make money?
Just then, the sound of a door opening ca.
El ca out and asked Wang Jian, "Hey, Wang, found a job yet?"
He looked back and saw El staring at him with sleepy eyes, a few of his dreadlocks stubbornly sticking up.
"Oh, don't ntion it." Wang Jian said with so distress: "I went a step too late, and they have already recruited enough people."
EI sighed. He also knew that it was really not easy to find a job now: "If it really doesn't work, just co with and follow the big guys. How much money can you make from working?"
"Ugh, I'll think about it," Wang Jian replied.
Join a gang?
What a joke!
His genes deeply rooted in his blood prevented Wang Jian from taking that path.
Unless he was truly too poor to eat, he wouldn't even consider it.
El shrugged and said, "Suit yourself, but our rent is due soon."
Then he walked toward the bathroom.
Wang Jian scratched his head hard, feeling very powerless.
Trapped in the Bronx District, and unable to find a job.
Indeed, the most painful thing for a person is to wake up from a dream and have no way out, isn't it?
Now, even if given a chance to be a worker in a factory, he would take it.
But the U.S. manufacturing industry had already been completely wiped out by the Japanese.
The remaining profitable industries mostly required a high degree of professional knowledge.
Even whites were losing jobs in large numbers, not to ntion himself.
"I'll go to the bookstore tomorrow to see what the hottest books are like now," Wang Jian thought silently to himself.
Soon, El changed his clothes, greeted Wang Jian, and went out to hang out with his big guys.
Wang Jian turned on the light and started slowly writing down the I'm a Great Mage book in his mind, using Chinese characters.
Soon, it got dark outside.
From ti to ti, there were sounds of n and won exclaiming in delight, and occasionally a few gunshots could be heard.
The daily life in the Bronx District was as lively as ever.
The next day.
Warm sunlight shone on Wang Jian, waking him up suddenly.
Last night, did he actually write all night long?
Looking at the thick stack of manuscript paper on the table, Wang Jian rubbed his eyes, feeling a bit dazed.
Soon, he rembered he had planned to visit the bookstore today.
So, after washing up and eating sothing casually, he walked out of the house.
In the Bronx, finding weed or a gun was easier than finding a bookstore.
Based on what Wang Jian knew, the nearest bookstore was on the edge of the Bronx District.
It was a place that, although part of the Bronx, was sowhat close to Brooklyn, like a hidden paradise.
Many rich hippies lived there.
They advocated being different and called it: Art.
Well, maybe there were indeed so artists with unrecognized talents in there, but most of them were just a bunch of pretentious show-offs with the goal of being different.
However, since there were many rich people, the security was relatively good.
Except for the rampant drug problem, violent cris were much lower than in other parts of the Bronx.
Wang Jian took the bus to this place and found that it looked quite different from the other places.
There were fewer black guys wearing gang bandanas with guns and knives tattooed on their bodies, and instead, there were many young people with black eyeliner and black leather jackets.
What was this style called again?
Right, punk.
Wang Jian watched a white girl with a nose ring walk past, feeling a toothache.
They all had too much ti on their hands!
Luckily, there was a bookstore at the corner of the street.
But the decoration was far from what Wang Jian pictured a bookstore to be.
Outside the bookstore, there was a large Batman figure, and in front of it, a masked Spiderman was handing out flyers.
As Wang Jian walked towards the bookstore, he saw a long line of people outside.
Most of them were pale-faced boys with glasses, half black and half white.
He pulled a boy aside and asked, "Hey, bro, what's going on here?"
The pale-faced white boy looked at Wang Jian in surprise and said, "Don't you know? The latest Spiderman issue is being released today!"
"Spiderman?" Wang Jian let go of his hand and thought silently, "Is Spiderman that popular? It seems more popular than Aquaman."
When he entered the bookstore, he discovered it was divided into two sections.
In the smaller inner section, there were mainly books, including but not limited to those he saw on the bestseller list last night.
But there were only a few people inside.
He didn't know if it was because he ca too early, or if these books didn't have a big market here.
The larger outer section mainly sold comics and related rchandise.
Now, many people were already lining up to check out.
Most of them held hardcover editions of Spiderman and Spiderman figurines.
Wang Jian first entered the bestselling books section and picked up Dragons of Autumn Twilight, Dark Elves, The Lord of the Rings, and other books that seed like fantasy novels last night.
Then he found a stool and started reading.
After gritting his teeth and reading for half an hour, he stood up feeling dizzy.
Undeniably, these novels had beautiful writing, grand backgrounds, and profound anings.
But...
Wang Jian still couldn't get into them.
Novels, after all, people read them to relax and alleviate stress.
With such complicated settings and so many main characters...
Wasn't it tiring!
For serious literature, couldn't I read Wuthering Heights or Notre-Da de Paris?
The Count of Monte Cristo was even more enjoyable than these books.
Was his aesthetic sense the problem?
Wang Jian looked up and saw that many of the people reading the books were won, so even reading poetry collections.
Uh...
He felt that in any era, people who read poetry collections were in the absolute minority.
These people could not represent the general public's taste.
So, Wang Jian looked up and glanced towards the other side of the bookstore.
Why not check out the latest Spiderman comics?
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