1836: I Became a Literary Giant in Great Britain

"About twenty or thirty copies of 'The Last Leaf'."

Michelle joked, adding, "A novel, a detective story. I personally think it's much more interesting than *The Last Leaf*."

"A long story?" Michael was a little apprehensive. If it were a short story, he would have accepted it without saying a word.

As for novels, although he believed in Michel's talent, he was still a newcomer and might not be able to grasp the writing rhythm of a novel. Many authors who write excellent short stories seem like completely different people when writing novels...

"And what kind of genre is a detective novel? Is it about police solving cases?" Michael prided himself on being well-read, but he couldn't figure out what this so-called 'detective novel' actually was.

In short, the London Express is, after all, a tabloid with limited space, and publishing a long serial is very risky. If the story isn't captivating enough, readers won't have the patience to follow along, which could backfire and negatively impact sales. Therefore, Michael's idea was also very cautious.

But remembering the sales miracle of "The Last Leaf," he reached out and opened the paper bag with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation.

"A Study in Scarlet," Michael read the title softly.

"The name is quite catchy, it makes you want to keep reading."

He turned to the first page and began to read. Initially, Michael approached it with a critical eye; the so-called "detective novel" was nowhere to be found in the market—was it some kind of avant-garde art creation?

But soon, his expression changed.

This novel, far from being a naive first attempt at a story, possesses a suspenseful, immersive, and novel quality that instantly captivated Michael, leaving him unable to tear himself away.

"In 1831, I received my medical doctorate from the University of London, and then specialized in military medicine. Immediately after graduation, I was sent to India as an assistant military doctor."

The story begins from Dr. Watson's perspective, and the realistic battlefield descriptions immediately resonated with Michael. Then, his eccentric roommate, Sherlock Holmes, makes his appearance.

This person actually used a stick to beat a corpse in the autopsy room just to check the extent of bruising after death?

This person can tell at a glance that Watson came back from Afghanistan?

Oh God, is this Sherlock Holmes a genius or a devil? Why are there so many mysteries surrounding him?

"this……"

Michael couldn't help but gasp, his body leaning forward involuntarily, his eyes fixed on the manuscript, afraid of missing a single word.

The unprecedented acting style, the fast-paced dialogue and plot, and the mysterious "Laureston Garden Street Massacre" all made Michael unable to stop watching.

Time ticked by, and people came and went in the café, but Michael was completely oblivious; his black tea had long since gone cold. It wasn't until he turned to the last page of the manuscript that he suddenly snapped out of his reverie, feeling a stiffness in his neck.

"That's it? That's all?"

He looked up, his gaze complex as he looked at the composed Michel across from him.

"The rest isn't finished yet. What do you think of the story?" Michelle asked.

Although he had finished writing, one should always be wary of others. Even though Michael had been kind to him, he certainly wouldn't let him see the entire manuscript.

After all, good friendships shouldn't be tested.

"Oh my god, Michelle, I really regret reading this. I'm going to have trouble sleeping these next few days," Michael said half-jokingly, before putting the manuscript back into the paper bag.

“Michelle,” Michael’s voice was a little hoarse, “you’re a genius. Really, I’m not kidding. This story is absolutely fantastic. That Sherlock Holmes guy, I want to know what he’s going to do next as soon as he opens his mouth.”

Michael clutched his head, his expression a mixture of pain and excitement. "Without a doubt, this is a masterpiece! A groundbreaking masterpiece! Even greater than *The Pickwick Papers*! This type of novel… I guarantee that no one in Britain, no, in the world, has ever written anything like this! It will usher in a whole new genre!"

He stood up excitedly and grabbed Michelle's shoulders with both hands.

"Michelle! You're a genius! A true genius!"

"Then can we talk about the serialization?" Michelle said with a smile.

However, to everyone's surprise, Michael shook his head.

He pushed the paper bag back in front of Michelle, a wry smile on his face.

"Although I have high hopes for this novel, I'm sorry I can't publish it."

Michelle paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "Can't agree on a price? Or do you think there's a problem with the subject matter?"

"No, it's not that, it's my problem..." Michael sighed, pointing to the passersby outside the window. "Michelle, you need to know what my newspaper is aimed at. It's for busy office workers and housewives. They like short, concise stories, they like gossip, they like things they can finish reading over a meal. So, the London Express doesn't have a long serialized section. Without the boss's approval, it's difficult to redesign a long serialized section."

He patted the paper bag: "Besides, this is a well-structured long novel that requires readers to settle down and follow it issue by issue, analyzing the clues and keeping up with the detective's train of thought. If I were to break it down and put it in my newspaper, publishing a small section every day, it would be a complete waste. Readers would lose interest because they would forget yesterday's plot, and this gem would be buried."

Michelle fell silent. He had to admit that Michael's media instincts were indeed sharp.

The London Express is simply not up to the weight of Sherlock Holmes.

"So you mean...?"

"Although I can't publish it, I can't bear to let this gem be tarnished. Let me think about it." After thinking for a while, Michael suddenly had an idea.

"There's a monthly magazine called 'Bentley's Notebook,' which is relatively new, but it targets the middle class and intellectuals and specializes in publishing high-quality long-form serials. Since it's new, they're eager for high-quality submissions. If your piece doesn't pass the review, I'll eat this teapot."

Michael joked.

As for their editor-in-chief... you must have heard of him.

Charles Dickens, author of the currently most popular novel, The Pickwick Papers.

"Let's go, let's go find him now. I'll take you with me, and I'm sure I can give you a fair price."

Michelle was startled. Charles Dickens, a name that resounded throughout the history of British literature, the uncrowned king of Victorian British literature—was he about to meet him?

A complex mix of excitement and fear welled up inside me.