After watching the six episodes, I saw that many people compared it to Secret No. 9. Personally, I am sure that the narrative and reversal of Secret No. 9 are better. What struck me the most was the third episode, The Writer's Story.
It starts with Olivia's boyfriend saying that his mom invited them to dinner at night, and Olivia says he doesn't think his mom likes her, so that's the tone of the whole story. Olivia lives with three girls. One day, she went to a writing class and met a strange man with glasses. The man said he was a novice, wrote bad stories, and kept staring at Olivia with strange eyes. The teacher in the class said that when describing the characters in the pen, we must give the characters a low point, give some setbacks, and experience hardships to make the story more exciting and ups and downs.
Olivia got home and heard the three girls conspiring to kill her. Olivia was very scared, and even thought her boyfriend was with them, so she ran out of the house. It happened that the man with glasses drove by. O stopped his car and arrived After getting off the car, the police station mistakenly put the man's manuscript into the bag, but inadvertently saw that her story was written on the man's manuscript. So in revenge, she also wrote a man's story, and even let the computer bite off his finger. The two struggled to write, and finally reconciled. They went to a sushi restaurant for dinner, only to find that a third person was writing their story: the man's wife, who was the writing class teacher and boyfriend's mother, instructed the boyfriend to pick up the samurai The knife killed both of them.
The story came back to reality. It turned out that this was the story written by the boyfriend's mother. At this time, the boyfriend brought Olivia back for dinner. Olivia and his mother hugged. The mother stabbed Olivia. It's okay, just delete it, just delete it. However, this is no longer a story.
This episode is quite interesting. The resentment and imaginings of reality are put into writing, and a world of one's own is created in the writing. I am addicted and unable to extricate myself. The kind of resentment or resistance or escape to reality.
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