1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 138: Submission
Last year Jiang Xian got an enamel cup, and this year he got three!

I also got three relatively rare push-button double-tone ballpoint pens.

Seeing that he couldn't carry all the certificates and souvenirs, the comrades from the Federation of Literary and Art Circles couldn't help laughing and specially helped him get a net bag.

A group of authors he knew soon gathered around him and congratulated him.

"Jiang Xian, you have to treat everyone to a meal, right?" Feng Jicai said sourly.

He and Jiang Xian were very familiar with each other and both were in the literary circle, so it was inevitable that they had some desire to compete with each other.

I had thought that I could get ahead of Jiang Xian in the awards this year and outwit him, but just a few months later, he came out with a new novel that not only made it into the selection, but also won first place!

Feng Jicai felt somewhat powerless in his heart.

What kind of person can catch up with Jiang Xian’s pace in the literary world?

Jiang Zilong also got excited when he heard what Feng Jicai said, and said indignantly: "Jiang Xian, treat us, treat us. We won so many awards today, we should treat you a meal."

He thought that he had to beat this kid up today to feel relieved.

Someone takes the lead and others follow suit.

"Please, please!"

Jiang Xian agreed first, and then immediately brought out the same excuse, "But you have to wait, I just bought a yard recently, and it will be repaired soon. Then everyone can go and warm up my house together."

Feng Jicai disagreed immediately after hearing this, "Are you treating us, or are you asking everyone to give you gifts?"

"How come it's not a treat? I never take gifts seriously. Just show some appreciation." Jiang Xian answered vaguely.

Before Feng Jicai could open his mouth to refute, he immediately changed the subject, "Hey? Teacher Feng, Teacher Jiang, you two also won two awards today, don't you have to express your gratitude?"

Feng Jicai slapped his thigh. He had suffered such a loss before, so why didn't he learn his lesson?

Jiang Zilong was also stunned.

After Jiang Xian's reminder, the others immediately became impolite.

It was you two who started the trouble just now, causing us to have to go to Jiang Xian's house to give him a gift. This gift money must be paid back by giving you two a big meal!

"You two, your level should be at least on the level of the Eighth Building, right?" Jiang Xian shouted.

People in Beijing seem to particularly like the number eight. In the old Beijing, there are: eight big buildings, eight big residences, eight big halls, eight big springs, eight big lanes, eight big auspiciousness, eight big alleys, eight big kings and eight weird things. There are the eight Beijing dim sum, the eight big bowls at banquets, and even the princes are the eight iron-hat princes.

However, there are only a few restaurants left in the Eighth Building. The famous Cuihualou was opened by the clerk of Dongxinglou in the Eighth Building.

"I'm in a hurry to take the train back." Jiang Zilong made an excuse.

Jiang Xian quickly grabbed his sleeve and said, "No, if we don't treat you, will everyone agree to let you go?"

"disagree!"

The rest of the people followed suit and cheered.

I had no choice but to agree.

Feng Jicai's face was as red as a pig's liver, and he whispered: "If you don't make me a meal of bird's nest and abalone when we get to the greenhouse, I'll let you go or not!"

After the award ceremony, there will be a symposium in the afternoon.

The environment was relatively relaxed, and Jiang Zilong and Jiang Xian were called over by Wu Boxiao at the same time.

"Next month the Writers Association is planning to hold a novel writing class to train some young and middle-aged writers. Do you two want to participate?"

"Novel writing class?" Jiang Xian didn't react for a moment.

"It's also called the Literature Workshop. You should have heard of it. In January this year, the higher-ups approved us to resume the establishment of the Literature Workshop in September." Wu Boxiao said slowly, "At present, in order to urgently train new literary talents, before the Literature Workshop is officially resumed, our Literature Workshop Preparatory Group plans to hold a short-term novel writing class. There will be 9 students in total, and the duration is relatively short, only three or four months."

The so-called novel writing class, and this very informal-sounding literary workshop, changed its name at the suggestion of the students shortly after it was opened and became the fifth session of the recognized literary workshop.

This is also the shortest issue.

The full name of the Literary Institute is the Chinese Writers Association Literary Institute. It was founded by Ding Ling in 1950 as a school to train its own writers. It is also the predecessor of the Lu Xun Academy of Literature.

"Mr. Wu, what are we learning in this novel writing class?" Jiang Zilon asked from the side.

"Except for foreign languages ​​and ancient Chinese, all other undergraduate Chinese courses will be condensed into these three or four months of study. Of course, some field trips will also be organized during this period for everyone to collect inspiration." Wu Boxiao said.

"Is the management strict? I have a lot of things to do on a daily basis, and I'm afraid I'll have to take leave for many classes." Jiang Xian raised his only concern. If he was expelled for skipping too many classes, that would be the first one.

"You still have to try your best to attend classes." Wu Boxiao smiled.

As soon as he smiled, Jiang Xian understood what he meant.

"I'll try to keep up with the course."

Wu Boxiao chuckled and said, "I even think you can be a teacher. Although many of our students have published some works, I'm afraid there are no students who have as many works as you."

This is the truth. Jiang Xian and Jiang Zilong attending such a small cram school is like two Godzillas entering the sheepfold.

After chatting for a while, Wu Boxiao said goodbye.

Feng Jicai came over curiously, "What does he want to talk to you about?"

"Call us to attend the novel writing class." Jiang Xian replied.

“Novel writing class?”

Jiang Zilong explained to him: "It was a study class held before the Institute of Literature and Art was restored."

When Feng Jicai heard this, he was immediately envious, his eyes red with jealousy, "This is a great opportunity to learn! The quota is so precious, you two can make progress again!"

"It's not me who signed up, but they forced me to join. Even if I don't make any progress, there are people pushing me to make progress." Jiang Xian said with a smile.

When everything was over, it was already past five in the afternoon.

Jiang Xian rode his bike back to the Beijing Film Studio. At the end of West Chang'an Avenue, the sky was filled with sunset glow.

He went straight into the studio. Ge You, Chen Peisi and Zhu Shimao, who were squatting nearby, came over to ask him about today's grand award ceremony.

"Screenwriter Jiang, you have quite a lot of prizes to give out?" Chen Peisi asked in surprise.

Ge You knew more. "Brother Chen, you don't know that Brother Jiang won three awards! Three!"

"Three? So awesome?" Zhu Shimao's eyes widened.

I gained a lot of emotional value from the three of them, and watched the filming on the set for a while, which was not a big deal.

He shifted into second gear, returned to his room in the guesthouse, washed his face, took out a large piece of green-grid manuscript paper from the drawer, and continued fighting.

It took a few more days, and finally late one night, I completed the last stroke of "Letter from an Unknown Woman".

Resisting the urge to sleep, I sat alone at the table and read the entire article several times.

all right.

You can submit your manuscript now!

(End of this chapter)