Chapter 56: A Surgeon and a Killer

Right after I began the joint project with Author Park Eun-sook.

I went down to the first floor, where a three-way meeting began with Director Kudo Kei present as well.

"Thank you very much for agreeing to such a difficult request."

Ah, of course, Kudo Kei’s assistant was also there, conveying his words in that subtly stilted translation.

"Since you acknowledge that it was a difficult request, I have two proposals to make as well."

Author Park Eun-sook didn’t speak reproachfully, but laid out her terms in a thoroughly businesslike manner.

First, she wanted to be actively involved in the casting of actors.

Usually, casting in dramas or films is entirely the director’s prerogative.

Previously, with Director Kim Seung-pyo, it had been a rare case where the director’s favorable impression of me played a big role.

But in Kudo Kei’s case, he was already a master with an immense track record in the drama field.

No matter how prominent Park Eun-sook was, she’d be right to feel put out if her territory were encroached upon.

"Let’s do it that way. I’m not familiar with Korean actors anyway, so I was hoping for some recommendations."

Director Kudo’s composure was indeed that of a true master.

Immediately, Park Eun-sook moved on to her second proposal.

"Second, how about we hold future meetings online?"

It was a perfectly reasonable request, since everyone here was someone for whom time was money.

"The travel expenses alone for both sides are considerable. I suggest we save on those secondary costs and put the money toward casting better actors and building the crew."

To such a highly pragmatic suggestion, Kudo Kei chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Is there anything you would like to request, Writer Lee Jung-hyuk?"

"Pardon? Oh, I…"

In truth, there was something I wanted to ask for.

The problem was how to bring it up without seeming too brazen.

"They say if you lack skill, you should be humble."

"Yes."

"But since our Writer Lee here has both skill and humility, may I speak on his behalf?"

Well, who was I to refuse?

"Please interpret this clearly."

Park Eun-sook gave the interpreter a firm look, then stared straight at Director Kudo as she spoke.

"The script fee I’ll be receiving this time is 550 million won per episode. How much did Writer Lee receive for his previous work?"

"I received 90 million."

"Please raise Writer Lee’s fee to 150 million. If you, Director, speak up to the production company, I think the negotiations will go much more smoothly."

Could such a bold ‘show me the money’ demand really be decided on the spot?

So I wondered, but upon hearing the proposal, Director Kudo just let out a hearty laugh and nodded.

"Hohoho. Understood. That would be about 17 million yen. If the production company hesitates, I’ll press them strongly. We went to great lengths to bring you both on board."

They say, if you’re going to play, play in the big leagues—it’s not an old saying for nothing.

I should stop simply calling Park Eun-sook and Director Kudo masters.

They were ultra-elite masters who could raise someone’s market value by 1.5 times in an instant!

Long live Park Eun-sook!

Hurrah for Kudo Kei!

---

After returning to Korea.

I went straight to Park Eun-sook’s studio in Apgujeong.

No, to be precise, it was both Park Eun-sook’s studio and the production company.

After ten years as a writer, Park Eun-sook founded a company with a trustworthy producer.

The name was Park & Jang.

For some reason, it reminded me of a famous law firm, but apparently, it was an illustrious name created by a renowned naming expert.

Seeing the stand-alone building with seven floors, I was once again overwhelmed by the scale of someone like Park Eun-sook.

The building itself was impressive, but in another sense, I couldn’t help but be amazed.

Because this was the very place that embodied my own ideal vision.

A company that handled only the works of Park Eun-sook and the writers she selected.

Someday, I too wanted to have a production company, by a writer, for a writer.

"Our studio is on the sixth floor."

I followed Park Eun-sook up to the sixth-floor studio.

The space, arranged like an office, had four assistant writers sitting across from each other, absorbed in their work.

"Oh! Writer, you’re here!"

"Hello, Writer."

At Park Eun-sook’s appearance, the assistant writers immediately stood up to greet her.

"Yes, everyone, say hello. This is Writer Lee Jung-hyuk."

"Wow. Hello, Writer!"

"It’s an honor to meet you! I look forward to working together!"

"Haha. It’s me who should be grateful."

The sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and above all, the studio looked clean and pleasant.

"The assistant writers’ working conditions are really good here. I should learn from this."

Following Park Eun-sook, I headed toward the inner office.

"You have four assistant writers here—truly impressive, Park Writer."

"That’s just on our floor. There are another four on the floor below."

"Oh. So you’re not just working on one project?"

"Aren’t you the same, Writer Lee?"

I was quite surprised by what I heard.

Park Eun-sook, too, was handling several projects at once, just like me.

‘Is that even possible without Godflix?’

To orchestrate nearly ten assistants alone and create multiple works—that clearly surpassed the scope of any single writer and was an almost superhuman feat.

"I might sound a bit slavish to America, since I keep bringing it up, but there, under the main writer, there are ten assistant writers. Each has clearly defined roles, and it’s all very systematic. They say there’s more time spent in meetings than writing scripts. Each person is assigned a character and writes dialogue as if in conversation."

"I see. That sounds similar to the variety show system."

"Exactly. But it takes a lot more effort. I can’t quite match that. In Korea, there’s not enough time to make a single work, and the pay is even worse. Those friends’ salaries come out of my own pocket, so if I want them to do more, I naturally have to pay more."

"The fact that you’re already providing such good conditions is much more than most writers do, isn’t it?"

"It’s nice when people notice."

Park Eun-sook chuckled and poured tea for Lee Jung-hyuk.

"Well then, shall we discuss how we’ll work together?"

"Do you have any ideas in mind?"

"I do have a few items I’ve been holding onto, but I’d like to hear your ideas first, Writer Lee."

"I…"

Lee Jung-hyuk paused mid-sentence and took a sip of tea.

In fact, even up to this point, he hadn’t made a decision.

Should he pitch a noir genre with a stronger focus on melodrama, like those he’d seen on Godflix, or should he try telling a story that existed only in his own mind?

He thought it might be best to take whatever item Park Eun-sook suggested and develop it together.

Not to hand over the initiative or ride her coattails.

He simply believed that, in collaboration, the most important thing was to understand your partner.

Knowing what the other person wants would make things go much more smoothly.

Unnecessary noise is the biggest obstacle.

From his experience working with writers like Im Sung-hee and Jung Tae-mi, Lee Jung-hyuk had confirmed that his strength wasn’t in overwhelming charisma, but in concealing his partner’s weaknesses and maximizing their strengths.

"The story I’d like to tell is this."

Since his partner wanted to hear his story, Lee Jung-hyuk decided, with some difficulty, to begin.

---

‘How do you start a drama?’

Actually, writing a drama is not as difficult as one might think.

First, you have to decide what story you want to tell.

This is commonly called a ‘logline’—in simple terms, it’s the story boiled down to a single sentence.

"A woman breaks up with a man she’s dated for a long time and falls in love with a new man."

Sitting formally before Park Eun-sook, I began by presenting the logline.

You start by adding flesh to these kinds of loglines, which there are thousands or tens of thousands of.

Let’s begin by assigning a profession.

"The woman is a surgeon."

A doctor, particularly a surgeon, usually works in a hospital, driven by a strong sense of duty to save lives.

You can enhance this with additional personality or situational traits.

What if the doctor is someone who can kill?

What if, as a surgeon, she has no sense of vocation and only cares about money?

By adding such unexpected variables, the logline becomes more convincing.

‘A surgeon capable of killing breaks up with her long-time boyfriend and falls in love with a new man.’

From this point, imagination is required.

What kind of man did she date, and why did they break up?

Since she’s a doctor, let’s say she dated a fellow medical school classmate or someone in the same medical field.

To differentiate, I’ll make him a physician, not a surgeon.

Like most couples who’ve dated for a long time, there’d be conflict over marriage.

If this marriage issue led to their breakup…

Then what kind of man would this woman fall in love with?

"It’s a pretty standard romance, isn’t it?"

"Yes, but I’d like to add one twist."

She has a supernatural power: if she stares into someone’s eyes for more than five seconds, she can control them.

This power is hereditary, passed down through the family, so its efficacy is certain.

For instance, if she looks someone in the eye and thinks, ‘Die!’ the other person will unhesitatingly jump out the window or into traffic.

Because of this, her mother was very strict with her from childhood.

Never, ever look into anyone’s eyes for more than five seconds.

‘A surgeon with a supernatural power to kill is betrayed by her boyfriend of eight years and falls in love with a new man.’

The simple logline now has a solid framework.

One last question remains.

What kind of man should she fall in love with to make the story more interesting?

It’s simple.

Since she’s a doctor who saves lives, she should meet a ‘killer’—someone whose job is to take lives.

Opposites naturally attract, and such a thrilling relationship releases dopamine.

So the story can be summarized like this.

‘A surgeon with a unique supernatural power is betrayed by her boyfriend of eight years and falls in love with a professional killer whose job is to take lives.’

Once the logline is set, the rest comes much easier.

Of course, it still requires enormous time and labor, but ‘well begun is half done.’

The next step is to give each character a narrative and build their personalities.

Then, confirm and adjust whether these characters have the right chemistry.

Afterward, other supporting characters are added to flesh out the story.

Once the characters are decided, the size and tone-and-manner of the story naturally follow.

Tone-and-manner means, simply, whether the story will be comedic, serious, romantic, etc., and in what proportions.

Depending on the characters’ personalities and actions, the degree of exaggeration or seriousness will be determined.

In this case, with the somewhat unrealistic settings of ‘supernatural power’ and ‘killer,’ it will be essential to convince viewers of the world-building from the outset.

Once you reach this point, next comes the script.

"I like it."

After hearing a rough story outline for about ten minutes, Park Eun-sook responded positively to ‘my story.’

"But I’d like the focus to be more on the romance than the professional aspect of being a doctor. After all, what we’re doing is a ‘romantic’ comedy."

"Yes, I agree."

There’s a meme in drama circles that goes:

‘In American medical dramas, doctors appear and practice medicine; in Japanese medical dramas, doctors appear and deliver wise sayings; in Korean medical dramas, doctors appear and fall in love.’

It’s a joke aimed at how Korean dramas always end up focusing on romance, no matter the profession.

But I don’t agree.

Today, the romantic comedy genre is universally recognized as Korea’s number one specialty.

And the person who contributed most to that is none other than my partner, Park Eun-sook.

If you come to eat kimchi stew, there’s no point debating about omelets or braised beef—just make a good kimchi stew.

Now that the master of kimchi stew has approved, it’s time to start writing the script.