Chapter 88 088 To establish a literary club (seeking for collection of reading tickets)
At this time, he was sitting in his office, looking at the letter sent by Fang Minghua, and there was a new book on the table. Published magazine "Shuofang".
“This young man is good, talented, and quite clever!” Wang Meng admired him very much.
After thinking about it, he picked up the landline phone on his desk and dialed a few numbers. He called Zhou Yanru, the editor-in-chief of "Yenjing Literature".
"Editor Zhou, have you read the latest issue of "Shuofang" magazine?"
"No? What's wrong?"
"There is an article written by Fang Minghua introducing stream of consciousness novels. It is detailed and very objective! You can take a look."
"Okay. I’ll buy a copy when I’m free.” Zhou Yanru responded on the phone and said:
“Chairman Wang, the sales volume of this issue of “Yanjing Literature” has increased significantly, especially in Lanzhou these days. Suddenly it was out of stock, and the local Xinhua Bookstore called the magazine to hurry up and ask for more copies. You know Lanzhou has never been a key sales area for our magazines."
"Haha, that little Fang went to Lanzhou University. I gave two lectures on his stream-of-consciousness novels and helped sell some magazines for our magazine.”
Wang Meng's tone was very humorous.
"Really? This young man is quite capable of tossing." Zhou Yanru said with a smile.
"Editor Zhou, take a look at Xiao Fang's article published in "Shuofang". If you think it is suitable, you can reprint it. Pay attention and stay objective! The editorial department will not comment on the article itself!"
"I understand."
Soon, "Yenjing Literature" reprinted this article, not only "Yenjing Literature" but also several newspapers and magazines also forwarded the full text.
The writing method of stream of consciousness gradually became popular, and some authors began to pay attention to this writing method.
Yanjing, Central University for Nationalities.
The beautiful sound of the piano came from the piano room.
"Students, I have learned the third movement of "Bergamo Suite" today. I hope you will practice it well when you go back and pay attention to the fingering speed, especially the changes in bar 15! get out of class is over!"
“Hello, teacher.”
After the students dispersed, the female teacher on the stage packed up her lecture notes and left the piano room.
She studied in the Composition Department of the Central Conservatory of Music, graduated from Mr. Du Mingxin, and now teaches at the Nationalities College.
Music is her profession and hobby. In addition, she also has a major hobby - writing.
I have written several novels, but they all failed to come to fruition when I posted them.
The scar literature of realistic works is popular now.
Although her parents were also affected at that time, she herself did not suffer much. During the absence of her parents, she and a group of friends whose parents were also absent wandered around the streets of Yanjing all day long, singing and painting in the park. , climb the city wall and run wild, this group of somewhat rebellious children live a good life without the control of their parents.
Now that I am over 30 years old, I still have a restless heart and like new and rebellious things. How can I write such a heavy realistic work?
After class, she was about to go home. On the way, she passed by Xinhua Bookstore and walked in. She bought a copy of "Yenjing Literature" that she often read. There was an article in it that attracted her.
Stream of consciousness literature?
It looks so fresh and interesting.
So she bought another copy of "Yenjing Literature" which contained the novel "The Sun Also Rises" introduced in the article. She didn't even cook when she got home and read it carefully.
Is this stream of consciousness? !
It is completely different from the novel writing techniques popular in the literary world!
Wow.
It seemed as if a door had opened before her eyes. Inside was a world she had never seen before, a very fresh world.
Therefore, during this period of time, she frantically collected information about various stream-of-consciousness novels.
An idea gradually came to mind.
Would you also write a stream of consciousness novel?
Yes, it’s from the Conservatory of Music!
The life I am most familiar with.
Her name was Liu Sola, who later became a famous domestic musician and composer.
There is also another identity: regarded as a true "modernist" writer in China and an outstanding representative of avant-garde novels.
The weather in Xijing is getting hotter and hotter.
Fang Minghua wore a white vest, blue pants and sandals, sitting in his dormitory reading a book.
During this period, the debate on stream-of-consciousness writing techniques continued in the literary world, but it was not as heated as it was at the beginning.
After my popular science piece was published in "Shuofang", it was reprinted by many newspapers and magazines. Readers and some authors gradually became aware of this writing technique, and some even began to try writing.
"The Sun Also Rises" is no longer as abrupt and eye-catching as when it was first published, and there are more and more articles giving positive reviews. That's a good thing.
Fang Minghua, who didn't write anything, suddenly fell into a state of doing nothing.
To be honest, sometimes I panic.
Otherwise, continue writing?
I still have a book called "The Donkey Gets Water" which has not been published yet.
Fang Minghua decided to change it again.
Striving for excellence
Yeah. That’s it, but there’s no rush.
Fang Minghua made a cup of herbal tea, crossed his legs, closed his eyes slightly, and couldn't help but hum a song as he thought about it.
Red plum blossoms bloom on the red rocks
Thousands of miles of frost underfoot
Why are you afraid of the severe cold?
A heart of love blooms towards the sun, blooms towards the sun
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Ever since he saw Song Tangtang dancing solo in Yanjing in the spring, Fang Minghua felt that this song was particularly catchy.
Just hum a few words if you have nothing to do.
"Oh, Xiao Fang, you are living a leisurely life."
A man's voice came from outside the door.
Fang Minghua opened his eyes and saw a man with slanted hands and a cigarette in his hand walking in.
It's Jia Pingwa.
"Brother Jia, if our security department is busy, it means there is a problem in the unit, which is exactly the opposite of your editorial department." Fang Minghua replied with a smile.
“Hey, what a waste of talent, why don’t you come with me to Chang’an, and if I recommend you to the president as an editor, I might as well give you a deputy editor, so that you can get busy too!”
“ No, no!" Fang Minghua was shocked when he heard this: "How can I be a deputy editor? I can't do this job. I think it's good to work in the security department."
"You. Just lazy!”
Fang Minghua chuckled and said nothing. He stood up and Jia Pingwa poured a cup of herbal tea.
"Brother Jia, you are a busy man. You don't go to the Three Treasures Hall for anything. Do you have something?"
"There is something." Jia Pingwa took a sip of tea and continued: "You Have you ever heard of the Bi Geng Society and Potu Poetry Society in Xijing City? "
Fang Minghua had never heard of it before traveling through time, but in this era, he had heard of these two well-known companies in Xijing City. Folk Literature Society.
So he said with a smile: "I heard that the Bi Geng Society is a group of literary critics, and the Po Tu Society is a group of poets. What's wrong?"
"Since these literary critics and poets can do it, why don't we novel writers set up a literary club? Let's communicate and learn from each other, so as not to let these people look down on us."
Huh?
Is this necessary?
Don’t you also compete with each other on a daily basis?
But seeing Jia Pingwa’s eager look, she nodded in agreement.
"Okay, I have no objection."
"Okay, I'll go find Lu Yao." Jia Pingwa rushed away happily.
Fang Minghua shook his head and picked up the teapot again. He really couldn't figure out why Jia Pingwa came here?
In fact, what he didn't know was that in history, Jia Pingwa actually established a folk literature society and convened a group of well-known writers in Xijing to talk about the past and the present and learn from each other.
Fang Minghua agreed and didn’t take it to heart. Anyway, he was a participant.
Just a week later, Jia Pingwa called Fang Minghua at the magazine and told him that everyone he was looking for had been gathered together, and the first literary club event would be held tomorrow night at his home.
“Who is there?” Fang Minghua asked curiously.
"Zhong Shi, Lu Yao, Zhou Ya, Zhang Min, Guo Peijie, not many, seven or eight people."
"Okay, I'll be there on time."
< br>Fang Minghua has heard the names of the people Jia Pingwa mentioned, but he is not familiar with a few of them. Anyway, they are all engaged in literature.
Tomorrow is Sunday, and Fang Minghua goes to the correspondence class as usual. Zhao Hongjun is there, but it is rare to see Li Li with short hair and a busy day.
After dinner in the evening, Fang Minghua rode towards Jia Pingwa’s residence, the south courtyard gate.
Thanks to Heng o Wo Bah, Book Friends 20191013081256047, and the feeling of watching the rain on the beach for their monthly votes
(End of this chapter)