1978 Synthetic Writers

Chapter 228 This time, I write about ordinary people
"Jiang Xian, get up and eat."

Early in the morning, Zhu Lin opened the door of the west wing, holding a bowl of egg custard.

Seeing that Jiang Xian was still half asleep, he sat on the edge of his bed and put the porridge on the desk.

Well, there seemed to be a puddle of water on the desk. She didn’t know if it was an illusion or something. Her face turned red and she quickly wiped it off with her hand.

"Jiang Xian, Jiang Xian."

"call."

Jiang Xian opened his eyes lazily, "What time is it?"

"It's half past six, hurry up and get up, I'm getting ready to go to the shoot."

"I'll sleep a little longer. I'm still suffering from jet lag."

"Then you should eat breakfast first."

Seeing that he was like a child, Zhu Lin couldn't help laughing and scooped a spoonful of egg custard to his mouth.

"Ah~~~"

Jiang Xian opened his mouth and took a bite; it tasted salty.

I heard that in some places egg custard can be mixed with rice. This way of eating is really unheard of.

Zhu Lin fed Jiang Xian like feeding a pig, and he ate it all spoonful by spoonful. Mantou also came in, with black bean-like eyes and tilted head with a smile, like an emoticon.

"I'm going to film a play."

"I'll pick you up tonight."

"Ah."

Zhu Lin smiled, gave him a small kiss on the cheek, took the steamed buns and left, and emptied the chamber pot for Jiang Xian.

It's getting colder in Beijing in late November. But not as cold as in Northeast China. I used to work in Shenyang. When I got off work in the middle of the night and sat on a non-air-conditioned bus with an empty stomach, I felt like I was going to freeze to death on the bus.

Jiang Xian was awakened by the urge to pee, but there was nothing he could do as the urinal had already been rinsed clean by Zhu Lin and he couldn't pee in it again.

After shivering for a while in the toilet, he shook his sniper out of habit.

He couldn't fall asleep when he returned to the house, so he went to the main room to warm himself by the coal stove. He didn't know whether his father or mother had steamed some steamed bread slices by the stove, but he just pinched them and ate them. They were crispy.

"Oh, you're up." Rao Yuemei was surprised. She was just about to yell at him. Nowadays, which young person dares to sleep in?

"Mom, is there anything happening in China recently?" Jiang Xian asked while pinching a piece of steamed bread.

"What's the matter?"

Rao Yuemei thought about it and slapped her thigh, "I'm going to do that in two days."

F4?

When Jiang Xian heard this, he realized he had even watched the video!

F1 laughed and acted like a jerk, was full of energy, and even made a lot of sophistry. It should be said that he really has some ability.

The others are not like that. Some of them turned against their allies at the critical moment, some looked as pale as death, and some were half-dead.

"Mom, I'm going to go out for a while and come home for lunch."

Jiang Xian finished eating the steamed bread, washed up, and took out the manuscript of "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" to check it again.

all right.

He put it in his bag and rode his scooter to No. 2 Shatan North Street. It was still a shabby earthquake shelter without even a heater. The staff of the Writers Association and the Federation of Literary and Art Circles were breathing out white air, rubbing their hands, flipping through manuscripts, and there were only a few "Yangtze River" cast iron flower pot stoves.

He went to the editorial office of People's Literature with ease.

"Teacher Wang Fu!"

Jiang Xian knocked on the table. Wang Fu looked up at him and said, "Jiang Xian? Are you back from Japan?"

"Just came back yesterday."

Jiang Xian placed a bag of beautifully packaged Meiji milk chocolate on her desk and said, "I brought you some gifts. I brought them back from Japan."

Cui Daoyi happened to see this and came over to joke, "Comrade Wang Fu, Comrade Jiang Xian, we can't use this to corrupt officials. We should approve the manuscripts that should be approved by People's Literature, and not approve the manuscripts that shouldn't be approved."

Wang Fu was so anxious that he quickly pushed him away. "Teacher Cui, I finally got an article from Jiang Xian. Please don't make him regret it."

"Ha ha ha ha."

Jiang Xian and Cui Daoyi laughed at the same time.

After laughing, Jiang Xian took out several stacks of manuscripts from his bag. The papers were of different sizes and in varying degrees of damage.

"Teacher Wang Fu, I have finished writing the manuscript you asked me to write in Japan."

Wang Fu's eyes lit up. "So many pages? How many words did you write?"

"About 180,000 words, Mr. Wang Fu. If I remember correctly, you promised me that even if it's a long novel, you would publish it all at once."

"People's Literature" is 16-mo, and each issue has 152 pages. There are about 1560 words on a page. This is not accurate, as it has something to do with the typesetting. 2500 more words can be accommodated.

By this calculation, the number of words in an issue of "People's Literature" is approximately 200,000 to 400,000.

Publishing a novel of 180,000 words at one time would take up almost half of the space of the "royal publication" "People's Literature".

"." Wang Fu looked constipated. She agreed readily at the time, but she didn't expect Jiang Xian to write a long novel, a long novel of 180,000 words.

"Teacher Wang Fu, I only asked you to write for me because you promised me that. People's Literature cannot bully a young man like me."

Cui Daoyi was shocked when he heard this. "Comrade Wang Fu, you are so brave to agree to this. No wonder this guy gave you chocolates. He really came to bribe the cadres."

Wang Fu said generously, "Since I have agreed, I will definitely publish it for you. Let me take a look at the manuscript first."

She took the manuscript from Jiang Xian. The handwriting was round and clear. She glanced at the first line:
Xu Sanguan selling blood?
Hiss.

Selling blood?

The title of this book is like a spoiler. It already spoils everything the book is about.

"Comrade Jiang Xian, your article is quite sensitive. How did you think of writing about selling blood?" Wang Fu held the manuscript and looked up at him.

Jiang Xian had already explained, "You may not know, my wife used to work at the Medical College, and her mother is also a doctor. I have heard them talk about many things in the hospital, and selling blood gave me inspiration.

Another reason is that one day I took stock and found that the protagonists of the novels I wrote before were all amazing, whether it was "The Chess King" or "Animals Are Dangerous", Wang Yisheng who was proficient in chess, or the children of a compound who were born in a compound. These characters are born with a certain energy, including the previous book "Copper Coin Street", who was another extreme artist Li Lande.

This time I want to do the opposite and write about an ordinary person who is as ordinary as dirt. I have always been pursuing the most avant-garde writing style, and this time I also want to change my style, to be simple, no longer involving those modernist techniques such as stream of consciousness, and quietly record the story of Xu Sanguan.

This person has never seen through the essence of life, but he still loves life in the midst of suffering and practices the heroism of the common people. "

Wang Fu and Cui Daoyi sat upright, listening quietly to Jiang Xian's explanation of the origin.

An ordinary person who loves life in the midst of suffering, a heroism of the common people.

This is a great idea!
After listening to Jiang Xian's talk, Wang Fu became very interested in "Xu Sanguan Selling Blood" and couldn't wait to read it.

(End of this chapter)