Chapter 300 This road is not easy to walk on
The informal class ended with Lin Weimin's jokes and the students burst into warm applause.
Today's class didn't actually cover any substantive content, but the communication with Lin Weimin left them with deep feelings.
For almost all students, Lin Weimin was just a name seen in publications. Only when they actually met him in the classroom of the Institute of Literature and Research and had communication with him did they truly feel his talent and charm.
One can’t help but sigh at God’s kindness to him!
Lin Weimin was enthusiastically escorted to the school gate by the teachers of the Institute of Literature and Art, who reminded him not to forget the lectures in a few days. He rode his motorcycle and waved to everyone before leaving.
Tang Yuqiu looked at Lin Weimin's departing back and sighed, "Who would have thought that Weimin would change so much!"
Xiao Lin also sighed, "Yeah. It's like a dream. It's only been a few years!"
Amid the sighs of the crowd, Lin Weimin's figure completely disappeared.
When I returned to the National Literature Publishing House from the Institute of Literature, it wasn’t long before the end of get off work.
Lin Weimin took a two-hour leave in the morning, but came back in the afternoon. Meng Weizai saw him in the corridor and was about to ask a few questions when he saw Lin Weimin patting the briefcase he was carrying.
Comrade Lao Meng nodded with satisfaction and went back to collecting manuscripts. Not bad, not bad.
After entering the office, Liu Yin glanced at Meng Weizai who had just walked over, then looked at Lin Weimin, and said, "Sure, Old Meng didn't say a word when he saw you."
"Don't you see how much work I've done? He's scolding me? How can he be so embarrassed?"
"Show off!"
After chatting and joking for a while, Lin Weimin got down to work.
The time left before the end of get off work was too short, so he did not review the manuscripts, but instead opened the letters piled on the table.
Unexpectedly, I found a letter from an acquaintance among the many letters, Cheng Shixu from the Institute of Literature Research.
Since the publication of "The General in a Small Town" in 1979 and his study at the Institute of Literature in 1980, it has been exactly four years this year, and Cheng Shixu has not had a comfortable life.
To be precise, the road to writing is particularly difficult.
After graduating from the Institute of Literature, Lin Weimin would correspond with Cheng Shixu from time to time and was quite familiar with his situation.
One publication after another solicited submissions with great enthusiasm, but rejected them with great disappointment.
Cheng Shixu mentioned in his letters more than once the embarrassing moments he encountered when meeting his acquaintances. When they asked him what he was writing, they could only see him stammering pitifully with a pale face.
Through the text, Lin Weimin could feel the pressure and depression in Cheng Shixu's heart.
He has not stopped writing in the past few years. Instead, he has worked even harder than before. However, the results have always been less than ideal. Since joining the Institute of Literature Research, his works have never been published in any of the top domestic literary magazines.
Considering Cheng Shixu's age, now should be the time when he is at the peak of his creative career.
His starting point was so high, and he won the National Outstanding Short Story Award at a young age. Such a result was a heavy blow to him.
In particular, because of the experience of studying at the Institute of Literature and Art, I met classmates from all over the country. Not to mention the already famous classmates like Jiang Zilong, many classmates, after going through the Institute of Literature and Art, their creations have exploded and they cannot be stopped, such as Lin Weimin, Gu Hua, and Huang Anyi.
This made Cheng Shixu feel more and more that he was on the verge of desperation.
The content of this letter made Lin Weimin very worried about Cheng Shixu's condition. He did not reply, but directly called Cheng Shixu's unit.
When Cheng Shixu answered the phone, Lin Weimin heard a dry and weak voice. He could not believe that it matched the youthful and energetic young man in his impression.
"Weimin, I plan to change jobs?" Cheng Shixu told Lin Weimin his thoughts on the phone.
"Change job? What job?"
"Find a job as an editor for a literary magazine, or as a handyman," Cheng Shixu said with a lack of confidence.
"Do you think being an editor is that easy?"
Lin Weimin's question left Cheng Shixu speechless.
"But what can I do? I have thought a lot in the past year. Weimin, let me tell you something from my heart.
Literature is just a way for me to make a living. Now everyone knows that I went to the Institute of Literature for further studies and was transferred to the provincial capital to specialize in writing.
But what about the results? If there are no results, I am just deceiving everyone.
I don’t want to go on like this anymore, I might as well find another way to make a living!”
Lin Weimin had not expected that the misfortunes of the past few years would have such a huge impact on Cheng Shixu.
"Shi Xu, it's easy to change careers. But I want to ask you a question."
"What's the problem?"
“Is it true that your work cannot be published?”
Cheng Shixu on the other end of the phone fell silent.
His works were indeed rejected by one publication after another, but these publications were all first- and second-tier literary magazines across the country.
"October", "Contemporary", "Huacheng", "Zhongshan", "Yenching Literature", "Shanghai Literature"...
Lin Weimin counted the names of the publications one by one on the phone. "Shi Xu, do you know how many manuscripts from authors and literature enthusiasts from all over the country I have to reject every day in the editorial department?"
“Compared to the amount of work that these household-name publications can publish, there are countless works that have no chance of being published.
Those works that have no chance to be published are the fate of most people..."
Cheng Shixu said bitterly: "For the people, but after all, I..."
"I know, I know. After all, your work has been published in October, you have won a national award, and you have studied at the Institute of Literature.
But, Shi Xu, that is all in the past. For those who are on the road, the last thing worth reminiscing about is the past.
Do you want to dwell on the brief glory of the past for the rest of your life? Are you such a person without ambition? "
Lin Weimin's repeated questioning tortured Cheng Shixu's heart, making him suffer and full of self-blame and regret.
When did I become such a coward!
"Wei Min, am I...am I too vain?" Cheng Shixu asked in a crying voice.
Lin Weimin softened his tone, "Shi Xu, it has nothing to do with vanity. We are all human beings, emotional animals. Once we reach the top, we naturally don't want to come down. This is human nature."
“But you also have to understand that our life is never a smooth road. It is a mountain range composed of countless high and low peaks. These peaks are high, low, steep, and gentle, and the situations are not the same.
But they all have one thing in common, that is, there is no road that goes uphill forever without going downhill. What does it matter if you go downhill for a while? It's a good time to take a break and save some energy, because there is another mountain waiting for you not far away! "
After Lin Weimin finished speaking, Cheng Shixu fell silent.
Just when Lin Weimin thought that his poisonous chicken soup had no effect, Cheng Shixu finally spoke up and said, "You're right, I care too much about those false reputations."
"That's right. Don't take those things so seriously. If your work can't be published in a big magazine, just publish it in a small magazine. Anyway, your royalties will not be reduced. If you write more, there will always be a day when the water drips through the stone, and quantitative changes will lead to qualitative changes."
With Lin Weimin's guidance, Cheng Shixu finally regained some confidence and rationality.
"Yes. As long as I keep writing, there will be opportunities."
Lin Weimin breathed a sigh of relief. It was not easy for him to be a part-time confidant brother.
"but……"
"But what?" Cheng Shixu asked.
"I suggest you find an opportunity to further your studies."
Lin Weimin read Cheng Shixu's manuscript more than once and knew where his problems lay.
The language is too simple and the expression method is too single.
Without the support of profound materials and creative experience, his works can easily become mediocre.
The training period at the Institute of Literature Research is too short for Cheng Shixu. Instead of running into obstacles in writing like a headless fly like now, it would be better for him to study hard and settle down.
"I heard that the Literature Association is in contact with Wuhan University and is planning to cooperate in recruiting transfer students for Chinese language and literature. Can I help you make the contact?"
Cheng Shixu hesitated and said, "I'm so old now? Can I do it?"
"How old are you? You're only in your thirties. There are many people your age in the university, right? Besides, they only accept transfer students, and the school system is short, maybe only two years.
Are you going? If you are, I will help you contact them!"
Cheng Shixu hurriedly said: "I'll go! I'll go!"
"Hey~ You're right! Don't always feel sorry for yourself, and don't be discouraged. Work hard towards your goal, and the scenery passing by behind you will be your reward."
Lin Weimin's comfort made Cheng Shixu smile, "Weimin, thank you so much."
"Why are you being so polite to me? I'll contact you when I have any news about further studies!"
"good."
After hanging up the phone with Cheng Shixu, Lin Weimin sighed.
The road of literature is not easy!
After chatting with Qin Chaoyang for a while, the old man was also filled with sighs.
In fact, compared with most literature lovers, Cheng Shixu is already lucky enough.
Unfortunately, his talent may not yet be able to support his ambition.
In a blink of an eye, it was time to get off work. Lin Weimin followed the traffic out of the Chinese Literature Publishing House and headed towards Shichahai.
He moved back to the Shichahai courtyard not long after the New Year. The winter heating period had passed and the advantages of living in the Tuanjiehu apartment were no longer there.
After entering Baimixie Street and walking a few hundred meters to the gate of his home, Lin Weimin stopped his motorcycle.
"Comrade, who are you looking for?" Lin Weimin asked the middle-aged man squatting at the door.
He was wearing glasses, had a round face, a crew cut and a mustache. He was smoking quietly, but when he heard Lin Weimin's voice, he quickly looked up.
"I'm looking for Lin Weimin!"
"What do you want from Lin Weimin?"
"I have a manuscript that I want him to help look at!"
Lin Weimin asked curiously, "Why don't you go to his workplace and ask him to read the manuscript?"
"I have to work during the day, so I don't have time!"
This reason is very powerful.
Lin Weimin didn't know how to respond for a moment, so he stretched out his hand and asked, "Where's the manuscript?"
I have been very busy these past two days, so I will only update twice today, and will resume updating three times tomorrow.
(End of this chapter)
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