Chapter 7 Publishing House

Under the gaze of Blonde beauty Lily, Wang Jian helped the old man into the car.

He felt a bit embarrassed as he looked at the steering wheel.

Although he knew how to drive, he didn't have a license!

In his previous life in China, he always believed that everyone in the United States had a car, and even children received a used car as a gift when they graduated from high school.

But it was only after he actually came here that he realized, New York, for example, most people didn't have cars.

The lower-income residents in New York couldn't afford cars, and most of them depended on government aid, particularly the Black community in the slums.

And for the middle class, there was no place to park; parking spaces in all major cities were in short supply.

On top of traffic jams and rampant car thieves, these factors significantly decreased New Yorkers' desire to buy cars.

Thus, his body's original owner had no motivation to get a driver's license.

The old man noticed Wang Jian's predicament and, after observing that Blonde beauty Lily had turned away and was no longer paying attention to them, quickly stepped over to the driver's seat.

Then he said to Wang Jian, "You move over, I'll drive."

This agile movement left Wang Jian somewhat flabbergasted.

Wait, wasn't the old man in great pain just a moment ago?

Was this...

Skipping work?

He saw the old man skillfully turn the key, step on the accelerator, deftly turn the steering wheel, and then drive away long.

Feeling Wang Jian's astonished gaze, he laughed and said, "I'm not forced to do community labor; I just get a bit bored at home."

"Now, I feel like I've found something much more interesting."

As he spoke, he lifted his chin and pointed at the manuscript in front of the steering wheel.

"You mean, the quality of this manuscript is good?" Wang Jian asked, a bit surprised.

"That I don't know; I just want to finish reading it. It's unpleasant to read a book halfway," the old man replied.

He continued, "However, when I wrote my book on engineering back in the day, I did research several publishers, which might help you."

"Also, I have a typewriter at home, and I think you'll need to print out a summary of your manuscript and send it for submission, right?"

A summary? Not the entire manuscript?

Wang Jian was initially startled, then nodded repeatedly.

This was also to prevent plagiarism.

"Thank you so much. You've been a great help," he said, thanking the old man repeatedly.

The old man just shook his head and remained silent.

They soon entered the Brooklyn area.

Although it was somewhat chaotic here too, it was still a bit safer than the Bronx.

After all, shootings here only occurred at night...

The old man parked the car by the street side and then led Wang Jian into an apartment building.

Although the exterior of the apartment looked dilapidated, it was much better than Wang Jian's apartment.

It had a superintendent and there was no smell of urine in the stairwell.

After reaching the second floor, the old man opened the door.

A neat and tidy three-room apartment felt refreshing.

Wang Jian took a deep breath.

Finally, no more of that leafy smell...

It wasn't easy.

The old man had Wang Jian sit on the sofa and then went inside to fetch the typewriter and a bunch of materials.

Then, he handed Wang Jian the part of the manuscript he had finished reading and gestured for him to hurry and type.

Meanwhile, he took the unfinished part, sat on a chair, and began reading with relish.

Wang Jian looked at the somewhat old typewriter, feeling uneasy.

However, considering that typing on a computer, then printing would also be time-consuming and more expensive, he forced himself to get used to it quickly.

Printing them out and photocopying them would save a lot of money.

As Wang Jian's fingers tapped "tap-tap-ding-ding" on the typewriter keyboard, the room became even more serene.

Except when the old man stood up to take some medicine, the two spent the entire afternoon with one reading and the other typing.

After the last word was typed, "gurgle" sounds came from Wang Jian's stomach.

He finally lifted his head and checked the time.

It was six forty.

He had to hurry home, or it would be dangerous for a Chinese person to walk in the Bronx after dark!

The old man noticed Wang Jian's movement.

He looked out the window, then at the manuscript in his hand, and smiled at Wang Jian, "Don't rush; you don't have to go back tonight if you don't think I'm a threat."

The old man?

A threat?

What a joke!

With his frail appearance, Wang Jian felt he could take on ten of him.

So, he stood up and said to the old man, "Thank you. Then I'll treat you to dinner, I saw a burger place downstairs when I came."

The old man continued to read the manuscript, nodding without lifting his head.

Wang Jian stood up, stretched a bit, then opened the door and bought two burgers.

Then, the two of them ate burgers while looking at different things.

However, the old man was looking at Wang Jian's manuscript, while Wang Jian was looking at the publisher information the old man had collected.

Perhaps because the old man had once wanted to publish a technical book, the first few publishers listed were American Academic Press, as well as university publishers from Chicago, California, and Harvard.

These were not a match as they did not publish fiction.

He continued scrolling down.

The first one was HarperCollins Publishers.

This publisher had published works by Agatha Christie, Mark Twain, Bronte Sisters, Dickens, Martin Luther King, and others.

However, being too serious about literary fiction, the chances of getting through were not likely.

But Wang Jian still wanted to try because this publisher was a real star-maker.

The second one was Random House.

Part of Bertelsmann Media, it had the strongest promotional and sales channels.

Over half of the books on the bestseller lists belonged to it.

This was also Wang Jian's main target for submission.

As for Penguin Publishing (a British publisher specializing in classics), its capabilities were weaker in the United States, so it was a backup plan.

And Scholastic Group, Abrams Publishers, and Candlewick Press just lacked the strength now.

Simon & Schuster Publishing and Disney Publishers, backed by Viacom and Disney, respectively, were far more keen on adaptations than publishing.

As Wang Jian daydreamed about all the major publishers' editors begging him to sign with them and his imminent success, the old man suddenly coughed.

"Don't overthink it; just try all the publishers, and sign with whichever one accepts you."

The old man finally finished the manuscript, looked up at Wang Jian, and said, "Remember, you're just a newcomer. And your work doesn't fit the mainstream."

"Although it's indeed captivating, it's too blunt and explicit."

Wang Jian scratched his head, "So, do I stand a chance of getting through?"

"You might stand a chance, but don't have high hopes for things like royalty splits."

The old man handed the manuscript back to Wang Jian, saying, "You're young, and with your first novel, you need to understand the depths here yourself."