Chapter 165: Carry forward the subjective fighting spirit
Anyone who pours wine on himself without saying a word is either someone who has done something sorry for him, or he has done something sorry for others. For Yang Yin, Wang Zixu analyzed and judged that it was the latter.
Before Yang Yin was about to drink the third drink, he grabbed his arm: "Don't drink it yet. If you have something to say, you can't solve the problem even if you get yourself drunk, right?"
Yang Yin's eyes were a little red: "I can't help you."
Sure enough.
Wang Zixu had been supported by Shi Shuqiu and Chen Qingluo before, and he was almost at peace with the fate of his manuscript being rejected. But at this time, he still felt a little depressed. He slumped in a chair and said, "Come to think of it, my manuscript has been rejected, right?"
Yang Yin lowered his head and remained silent.
Wang Zixu also opened a bottle of beer for himself, and blew directly into the bottle without using a cup.
Yang Yin said: "Let me tell you, don't be angry. In fact, your novel is very good and fully meets the publication standards. It is unreasonable to reject it."
"Why should I be angry?"
"So the meaning is that your rejection is not due to the quality of your work itself."
Wang Zixu said: "What's the reason?"
Yang Yin shook his head: "I can't say."
Wang Zixu met him: "I know even if you don't tell me, it's because I was rejected by "The Ancient City", right?"
Yang Yin was surprised: "How do you know?"
< br>“I heard it’s a common practice.”
“What a common practice, bad root, bad root!” Yang Yin put down his wine glass heavily, “I thought about how to review the manuscript I was promoting your novel at the conference. I had already thought about how to help you with the large number of words, but they rejected your manuscript with such a ridiculous reason. What can I say? ”
“Brother Yang, calm down,” Wang Zixu said, feeling funny that he was actually the one trying to comfort him so he wouldn’t be angry. “I looked away from it. I took the manuscript to “The Ancient City” but it was inexplicably rejected, so I already looked away. ”
Yang Yin became nervous: “Don’t give up on yourself, what are you going to do with your manuscript?”
"That's not true. What I said is to look away from revolutionary optimism. Next, we have to continue to carry forward the subjective fighting spirit and continue to apply."
Yang Yin felt a little more relieved and clinked glasses with him: "I hope you can succeed. Don't apply for magazines in the Donghai series. You are colluding. I will recommend a few magazines with good reputations for you."
Wang Zixu put down the bottle of wine: "Brother Yang, let me ask you something."
"You tell me."
"From the perspective of a professional editor, what are the shortcomings of my novel if it is to be published in the first-class domestic novel magazine?"
Yang Yin suddenly fell into silence again.
Wang Zixu said anxiously: "Brother Yang, you don't have to be afraid of hitting me. If you have any questions, just say it. I just want to hear sharp criticism."
Yang Yin pursed his lips and thought for a while, then smiled at him: "Don't get me wrong, I'm not afraid of hitting people, but you asked me what is lacking, and I really haven't thought of it at the moment.
"I have read the first 120,000 words of your work in the past two days. I think the only problem is that it lacks a resounding title."
Wang Zi smiled falsely: "I really don't know how to name it."
"If there is any problem, it is what I am reading. During the process, you will feel, are you deliberately using a dazzling narrative method in every plot in order to pursue literary quality? "
Wang Zixu nodded: "Yes, I also chose to use a variety of different narrative techniques. I think the mainstream literary world will prefer it. Isn't this good?"
Yang Yin shook his head: "This is indeed more literary, but from my perspective as an ordinary reader, such excessive narrative techniques make me lose the focus and easily ruin the reading experience."
Wang Zixu said: "Then what you mean is..."
"I think your novel can If you want to make it both elegant and popular, why don't you write it in a simpler and clearer language? Of course, I don't want you to remove all the narrative techniques. I just want to remove the deliberate parts and make it more natural."
Wang Zixu urgently took out the notebook in his chest pocket and took out his notes: "Remove the deliberate ostentation..."
Yang Yin waved his hand: "Don't remember it, I just gave a personal opinion. I'm afraid it will affect your thinking."
"No, remember, I was planning to change it again. Do you have any other questions?"
Yang Yin thought for a while and said, "There really is one dialogue between your characters..."
The two of them chatted from 7pm to 12pm, with more and more questions, and Wang Zixu's little notebook was filled with more than 20 pages. After the two of them went home, Wang Zi lay on the bed, and strange emotions emerged in his heart - he didn't care about being rejected, but instead thanked them for giving him the opportunity to perfect the novel.
In one month, there will be the NTU postgraduate written examination, and in half a month, the essay collection will be closed. So he must get everything done within this limited time no matter what.
Not to mention having to provide a sufficient amount of text and scripts every day.
He made a time plan and found desperately that this was not a problem that could be solved by "sleeping less".
Even “sleeping a lot less” may not be the solution.
He first called Ning Chunyan to ask for a long vacation, and Ning Chunyan expressed his understanding. Then he put a sum of money into his father's account, and then called Lin Feng, asking him to recommend some useful review materials to him. He also wrote a note in the living room, to the effect that he was writing behind closed doors and asked Ye Lan not to disturb him. Ye Lan went crazy after seeing this note, but of course this was something he said later.
After doing all this, he plunged into writing with the determination to burn everything, as if he had stepped into a time machine and went back 100 years ago.
Before writing this novel, he collected a lot of old newspapers from the Republic of China period. When he revised it for the 13th time, he vaguely realized that the newspapers were old, the paper was yellowing and the pages were warped, but it may not have been yellowing in that era. 100 years ago was not an era that looked as yellow as faded old photos.
At that time, China was still an out-and-out agricultural country. Light industry was only built in coastal cities and riversides. Many of the factories in the inland ports were arsenals hosted by Zhang Zhidong. There would be no billowing black smoke in the air, but there was no way to talk about urban greening. The old osmanthus tree under the city wall was the entire greening of Dongcheng District.
In the morning, people gather under the tree to sell breakfast, steam buns and cook porridge. The water vapor rises and is trapped under the leaves. Over time, the branches will be withered. In autumn, in order to prevent the leaves from falling, people knock off all the leaves in advance, and the trees become bare.
The roads in the city are covered with green and black fine soil like incense ash, which is leveled by manpower and heavy objects. But fine soil cannot be permanently smoothed. If it is left for a day or two, and then it rains, it will turn into mud, and the wheels will make ruts. When the sun comes out and dries again, the mud will turn into soil again. The difference is that the ruts will stay on the road semi-permanently.
Cows and horses naturally participate in urban traffic. They are even busier than people, except sometimes when they take a moment to flick their tails and drop a pile of feces. Generally, you have to step out of the way, not only to avoid being hit, but also to avoid stepping on shit. The excrement of cows and horses will only be stepped on by other cows and horses, and then run over with wheels, and it will be perfectly integrated into the mud.
When more people take to the streets, mysterious gray smoke will float in the air. This smoke is often smelly because it is soaked with feces. If you walk a mile or two in it, people will turn into briquettes.
At that time, people were not wrapped in fine cloth or woolen clothes. Furs were high-end clothes that only princes and high officials could wear. People weave rotten cotton wool and rags together to barely cover their bodies. Sometimes the whole family only has one piece of clothing, which is worn by whoever goes out on the street. As the body grows, it can't even be buttoned, so it can only be opened, exposing the ribs generously.
The more he writes, the more Wang Zixu blends into that era, or in other words, he is that era. The things he wrote were originally stored in his body, and he wrote them down in a certain way. Those who have lived, and the history that has happened, are reappeared in the world with his flesh and blood as nourishment. When he reads it again, he is just re-examining his own flesh and blood. The more immersed he is, the more perfect that world becomes, eventually replacing the world in which he exists.
The connection point between the two worlds is the room he is in. It is narrow and cramped, and the window facing it is a scenery that has not changed for thousands of years. In order to save time, he never cooks and only orders takeout. Sometimes Ye Lan will help him take it to the door, so that he never goes out. The real world is getting farther and farther away from him, while the world a hundred years ago is approaching like a planet.
In the end, he even wanted to save the time of peeing - one poop a day is already very economical, but after all, countless poops are still annoying, especially when he sometimes runs into Ye Lan who goes out. Ye Lan is afraid that he will be out of touch with society, so she will pull him to chat for a while. Although she means well, it affects his thinking very much.
One night in the middle of the night, after he woke up from peeing, he suddenly took out his mobile phone and placed an order for 30 pairs of adult diapers, then put down his mobile phone and went to sleep. The goods arrived the next day, and he put them on that same day. It took him four hours to urinate the first time, because one of the difficulties in peeing in pants was the psychological aspect. After peeing, the rest became smoother and smoother. The next day, he had already practiced the unique skill of revising the dialogue while peeing.
……
“王子虚已经快三个星期没来上班了。”刁怡雯突然说。
Lu Qingxuan raised his head.
Ning Chunyan’s fingers paused on the keyboard for a few seconds: “He asked for leave.”
Lu Qingxuan lowered his head again.
In October, the weather becomes cooler, and people put on autumn clothes one after another.
Ning Chunyan wore a white windbreaker with a turtleneck knitted sweater underneath. She looked very intellectual. In addition, she wore a pair of flat anti-blue light glasses on the bridge of her small nose.
The good news is that the popularity of the first issue of "New Awards" has lasted for a long time. What is even more popular is the novel of The Little Prince. Some sentences in it have been widely circulated, and some Weibo users have also made fun of it.
The bad news is that the little prince’s time seems to have become very tight and he can’t make an appointment for the manuscript. It is foreseeable that the sales volume of the second issue may be cut in half.
But the good news is that there are a lot more submissions, which can also be described as "flying in like snowflakes".
But the bad news is that most of the submissions are of poor quality, and occasionally there are good ones, but in the final analysis they are still not good.
For a new magazine, it is difficult to request manuscripts, and there is no right to select the submitted manuscripts. Ning Chunyan has developed a system that allows editors to contact authors with good quality in person to communicate about novel revisions.
This approach has been very effective, and it has even found several new writers with good understanding. The bad news is that the manpower has become very insufficient.
Communicating with the author requires giving appropriate opinions. Everyone has different ideas. In a sense, wrong guidance is more fatal than poor writing of the novel itself.
Lu Qingxuan is still a college student, and Diao Yiwen is also a half-way monk. They can only give opinions on the author's choice of words and sentences, but it is difficult to give critical opinions on the novel as a whole. This leads to the background of the Caotai team being often exposed.
So, Ning Chunyan began to miss Wang Zixu.
Diao Yiwen was dissatisfied in her heart. She had been uneasy at work these days, and finally mentioned him at this point. It was not only about caring for her colleagues, but also something else.
Diao Yiwen said: "He took leave for a long time. Although there was a National Day in the middle, it was still two weeks, right?"
The Ning Chun Banquet was silent. Wang Zixu was the sponsor who invested 800,000 yuan in start-up capital. How could he really urge him to come to work?
Lu Qingxuan stretched out: "Isn't he taking leave to prepare for the exam?"
The first time they met, she said she hoped he could pass the exam, otherwise she would not be able to remember him due to her short memory. In the blink of an eye, the two became colleagues. Although they were part-time workers, it was quite ironic. She secretly hoped that Wang Zixu would never think of this matter.
Ning Chunyan said: "Not only is he preparing for the exam, he also has to put the final touches on the novel."
"He hasn't given up yet?" Diao Yiwen opened her eyes slightly, "Didn't I hear that he was rejected twice? He still wants to compete for the Fei Shi Literary Award?"
"Yes." Ning Chunyan sighed.
She sighed because it was not easy for Wang Zixu, but Diao Yiwen understood that it was because of her sigh for Wang Zixu's overestimation of his abilities, and said: "The essay submission time is coming soon. If his manuscript is not passed next time, I hope he can Please wake up a little bit."
Lu Qingxuan interjected: "It turns out that he has been preparing for the literary award. No wonder my cousin is very unhappy with him and has been angry with him for a long time."
Lu Qingxuan’s cousin is Xiao Mengyin. Ning Chunyan looked at her and asked curiously: "Have you met your cousin? What did she say?"
"She traveled abroad during the National Day and spent a day at my house when she came back. When everyone talked about the situation in the magazine, I said that our boss is Ning Chunyan, the editor-in-chief is Chen Qingluo, and there is an editor named Wangzixu. She said I know Wangzixu. , and then talked a lot about his bad character and overestimation of his abilities. "
Ning Chunyan said: "What a grudge, it was just a small friction. "
Outside the door, Chen Qingluo came in yawning.
Chen Qingluo is also a genius and comes to work according to her mood. Everyone greeted her one after another. She nodded and replied: "Morning."
Ning Chunyan looked at her watch: "It's late, it's almost time to get off work, sister."
"But in Luo Country, it's morning now."
Chen Qingluo sat down, took out a bag of snacks from her drawer, and ate one while Bian said: "I met Wang Zixu last time when we went out to beat eggs. This is the first time I met Xiao Mengyin. This girl is so arrogant."
Ning Chunyan said: "I guess you are more arrogant in her eyes."
"I am also a senior, and young people nowadays are all arrogant."
Lu Qingxuan looked at Chen Qingluo with a shy look, feeling ashamed about her cousin.
"Speaking of which," Chen Qingluo suddenly said, "Is it possible that there has been no news from Wang Zixu these days?"
"Yes, he told me not to disturb his writing before he asked for leave."
"I think You should bother me, otherwise no one will know where he is. "
"...It shouldn't be possible? If he dies, Ye Lan will find out. "
"What?" Chen Qingluo jumped up from her seat.
(End of this chapter)