Last week, I received the three major access statements for the first half of 2012. In accordance with the usual practice, I forwarded the statements to my mother for her review. My mother, halfway through her soap opera, glanced at the figures on the statements, suddenly grew somber, and fixed me with a piercing stare. She was about to speak when I softly sang to her, "Don't speak... Don't tell me 'cause it hurts," quoting lyrics from No Doubt's 'Don't Speak.'

"Didn't you mention that a particular book was going to sell?"

"Yes."

"But why didn't it sell?"

"Because..."

"Next time, publish a book you don't think will sell."

"What?"

"If the one you believe will sell doesn't, then the one you don't think will sell probably will."

"Then I'll help you publish a book, Mom."

"You're a wicked son! I truly dislike you." Sometimes, a mother's resentment runs deep...

If I were to publish a book for my mom, I would probably compile a book of recipes. After all, my mom's cooking is incredibly delicious, making it easier to resonate with readers. But back to the topic at hand, as Comma Books is about to celebrate its second anniversary, I compared all the sales reports from the past two years and found that it's not as bad as I thought. Several books have sold over 2,000 copies, and a few others have not quite reached 1,000 copies. However, most of them have met their targets. For the ones that didn't, it's likely because we didn't put in enough effort back then. We plan to strategize ways to clear out those remaining copies in the future.

After all, I still pinned my hopes on the future. My mind was always running at high speed, hoping that I could find a book that would truly take off, allowing me to turn things around through excellent sales.

"You always say the next one will be a big seller. What's the difference between you and a gambler?" my mom said to me.

Oh my God, I didn't realize that my mom had evolved to the level of a psychiatrist. Did we have to give up the recipe book project and publish a psychoanalytic and motivational book for my mom, titled, “Learn from the Editor-in-Chief's Mom! Gain the Soft Power of Seeing Your Son's True Colors Before You Turn Fifty.” (That's a long title. It might be a moderate seller, with a 47.434% chance of selling out.)

My mom was right; everyone in the publishing industry is a gambler! If you think that people in the cultural business are gambling, then it's no wonder that the whole country is full of gamblers. What can we do about it? (I slapped the back of my right hand against my left palm three times.)

In our dictionary, there's no such word as "take it or leave it." We're always confident in every move we make; after all, it's our belief, the essence of our existence. If we don't believe that a book can take us far, why would we expect others to believe in it and take it home?

Not every book that comes out will go the way we expect, just as my mother would have never guessed that her son, who was once a high school English teacher, would now be a gambler.

But we're all alive and well now, just waiting for a chance, waiting for the possibility of love, waiting to find our own place, a little spot to live. Books are like their creators, living hard. Every day, they sit on the bookshelf, waiting for someone to pick them up, gently stroke the dust off, and if fate allows, bring them home.

What about you? Do you feel the same way we do? I know that dreams are the most beautiful. I should end with the sentence I said just now, but I suddenly thought of a TV drama in which a gambler, in order to repent, chopped off his pinky with a kitchen knife, and then gambled again. He chopped it off repeatedly, and in the end, when he couldn't pay off the debt, loan sharks chopped off both of his hands.

If one day you see me on a street corner and notice that one of my fingers is missing, I think the result will be very clear. Please don't say anything, just walk past me and pretend we are strangers. It would be the best comfort to me. (smiling through tears, nodding)

Until then, I'm still a die-hard gambler, so I'll see you in the next book.

For more information, please contact us!
commabooks@gmail.com