Secrets Of The Neglected Wife: When Her True Colors Shine

Chapter 153: Since the reporters hadnt shown up yet, Allison leisurely browsed through some comics at the mall.

Her attention was drawn away when she heard a soft voice from a nearby corner.

Excuse me, miss… Would you like to take a look at my comics? Turning around, she saw a young man with a boyish face crouched in the corner.

Before him lay a few comics, arranged in a modest display clearly an attempt to promote his work.

Unfortunately, anyone passing by barely spared him a glance.

Its fine if you dont want to buy them.

If you like it, I can give it to you for free.

Just take a look, thats all I ask, he said, his gaze flickering with a hint of envy toward Onyxs polished stall, quickly masking it with a friendly grin.

Im not famous, but I hope this story might brighten your day, even just a little.

Allison, with time to kill, crouched down and picked up one of his comics.

To her surprise, his artwork was diverse and inviting, each panel imbued with a tender warmth that was hard to ignore.

The cover of the comic she held featured a delightfully clumsy cat, its fluffy, round body perched by a window, attempting to act cute.

Her heart softened; there was something undeniably endearing about it.

The cat in this story is inspired by one I used to have, the young man explained, a fondness glowing in his eyes.

Back when I lived in the countryside, it was just me and the cat.

I try to capture that feeling, hoping it brings a bit of warmth to everyone who reads it.

Allison flipped open the comic and noticed the name Garry Schmidt scribbled inside.

It seemed to be his real name.

Your art is really impressive.

Why hasnt anyone bought it? Have you thought about submitting your work to a publisher? These drafts are great, but you could definitely take them further.

His talent was clear the way he balanced the pacing, the smooth progression of each scene, all carried a quiet charm.

The animals he drew had a lovable awkwardness, the landscapes felt naturally serene, and his characters, like the young boy in shorts, exuded innocence and simplicity.

lowered his head,

transitions arent smooth

something more action-packed, and publishers worry my

Ive been giving them away

for a

of your transitions are a bit rough, especially when you move

feel

flipped through a few more pages, her

art style isnt

Its the flow.

setting up the transitions and building a smoother rhythm, your

the transition

moments and turning them

most vivid memories you have and the

from that, your

his style after all, every artist had

one of the chapters, she offered

spot where you could

panning to a new angle, subtly hinting at

lead readers into the next

clearly eager to understand but still puzzled by

I get what youre saying… but how do I

the right

pencil on the floor, picked it up,

quick strokes, she sketched a playful Persian cat, its large,

Here, she said.

look

practically hit the floor

Impressive! he stammered.

it was clear Allisons talent

command over structure and perspective, effortlessly mastering

speed

path, flanked by wheat

background, its waters babbling quietly

a picture they breathed

than a scene; it carried the weight of

wheat heavy in the air, and the warm breeze

Garry studied it, the more

strange déjà vu