Park Suki began her literary career in 1995, winning the Hankook Ilbo New Year's Literary Contest. She has published numerous works, including the novels Cheerful Madness, In Search of a Kiss, The Selfish Gene, Sartre Needed Three Women, and I’m Not Ready to Go Home Yet. She has also released an art essay titled You Are an Artist. Since her first exhibition in 2014, she has held ten solo exhibitions and is active as a painter.

If someone near you suddenly doesn’t want to go home today, this book might be for them.
This novel tells the story of a homeless person you might encounter in a station’s waiting room, a subway underpass, or on the evening news. But it turns the usual prejudices about homeless people on their head. The novel delves deep into the intimate feelings of those who are always near us, yet whose inner lives we rarely try to understand.
The author suggests that "the homeless represent the severe paradox and dilemma of the heart." Homeless people break off a piece of their heart, losing it in the process, while simultaneously being liberated from it. In a way, the broken heart feels freer and more comfortable because there is nothing left to break. But a broken heart also risks losing what little remains of it. A heart that may not even exist is, ironically, safer when left unknown. Therefore, pretending to understand the heart is a kind of foul play, but so is losing it altogether.
The story captures the minds of those who are not ready to go home yet. It delicately portrays the inner lives of homeless people who may wish to return but are not ready. In the first chapter, the story unfolds through the perspective of the narrator, a homeless person living in a subway station waiting room. The second chapter is an autobiography of Kim Hyung-hoon, a fellow homeless person whom the narrator calls "a model citizen," recounting his lifelong struggles with his heart. The third chapter details the narrator’s interrogation as a prime suspect in Kim Hyung-hoon’s murder. The author carefully depicts the minds of homeless people, showing their unvarnished human reality.
Author’s Note
It was a rainy spring day when I saw a homeless man near Y Station. He sat on a wet bench, curled up with his eyes closed. He looked cold, but he didn’t seem to carry sadness in his heart. Instead, it was I who felt the sadness.
A few days later, passing by the same spot, I saw him again, this time chatting with another homeless person. He was wearing sunglasses, and somehow he seemed more confident than before.
Thus, the rain, the homeless man, the sunglasses, and a touch of sadness led me to write this novel. Today, as rain similar to that of a year ago falls, I look out the window and hear a song by the late singer Kim Hyun-sik on the radio. And once again, spring is passing.