Writing Novels Is A Dead End

The city's western book square was a paradise for people who loved books. As long as one looked hard enough, one could find the books they wanted.

Mag and his family found a bookshop with many picture albums but no customers, and went in.

The two children looked for the picture albums that they liked in the midst of the books, while Mag chatted with the bookshop's manager.

Mag swept a quick glance in the shop, and said, "Boss, why are you not selling Perfect Food magazine? The other shops are doing a brisk business selling it."

That bookshop looked at the customers who were crowding at the other shops' respective entrances to buy the magazine, and pursed his lips disdainfully as he said, "Ha. What's the point of selling a gourmet magazine? You can't earn much selling that. If I can get the exclusive selling rights of a few bestsellers, that will really earn me money."