Fog Era

Shen Xingye hearing this is almost a blow: "Huh? Give me a class? It's really condescending. Okay, come on, I want to see what you can advise!"

This Shi did not give in: "It's very simple, in one sentence: your novel, ignore, it's a mess."

"Ah? You, you, and you are irresponsible! Why is my art ignore? How can it be a mess? The kind of thing you write is an unknown and a mess!" Shen Xingye wrote a lot of poems, furious: "Look at you, grandstanding, have a little depth? There is a bit of literary and artistic romance Do you think it’s ideological? You’ve seen it, and you’ll forget it in a blink of an eye, rubbish, literary rubbish!"

This Shi is hearing this, and he admits it generously: "I inherit, I will take care of it. There is really no romantic feeling about what I wrote. In fact, I don’t even look at it. But what about you, you’re awesome? I’m just forgotten and rubbish. You don’t even want to read it. Rubbish is not as good."

"You, you, you!" Shen Xingye stretched out his fingers, almost didn't draw it: "That's the aesthetics of others..."

"Pull it down, It’s not an aesthetic problem, it’s just a lack of level.” Shi Tiexin’s soul asked: “If you think your own is art and standard, then I’ll ask you, can your work make people forget me?”

"Can people be memorable?"

"Can people gain knowledge and indulge in emotions?"

"Do you remember When you were immersed in literature, those things that made you treasured, do you hold on to the scrolls, do you stay awake at night, empathize with yourself, unforgettable, and have been affecting you until now?"

"And what you wrote, can others not let go of the scrolls and sleep at night?"

Shen Xingye's mouth opened and closed, closed and opened, his eyes staring blankly and dumbfounded. Say what.

If it is a simple quarrel, he can open the air and quarrel fiercely, and spray for an hour without repetition. After all, the literati in the bones has the traditional virtue of fighting against Confucianism.

But Shi Tiexin's questioning was not a mere quarrel, but a torture to the soul. These tortures made him suddenly understand that the big guy in front of him was not talking about it in general. He did ask about the literary feelings, and it made him even more unsure of how to refute it.

Holding, holding back, his face flushed, and finally, Shen Xingye suddenly collapsed like a discouraged ball, and sat down on the bed with a frustration: "Yes, you are right, I do No, what I wrote is really rubbish, not as good as..."

Shi Tiexin walked over with the sound of footsteps.

Hmph, ridicule me, aloof and remote’s claim of victory, whether it is learning or dream, I have failed...

But at this time, I only heard a crunch When the sound rang, Shi Tiexin pulled a wooden chair, and then sat down on the backside.

Shi Tiexin’s voice sounds calm and generous, tolerant and full of striving power: "I have read everything you write, including your poems, your novels, your essays, yours Contributed manuscripts, or even your "driving book"."

Shen Xingye lifts the head slightly, his eyes wandering, and he doesn't want to speak, but in the end he couldn't hold back: "Really?"

"Really, I can recite two paragraphs for you now. The rooster outside the window talks a lot by the grill. You feel hungry when you say this. Right?"

Shen Xingye couldn't help but lift the head completely, staring at Shi Tiexin in a daze.

His literary dream has always been a joke, and no one has ever praised it. Even if he shamelessly post poems every day and confidently declare that he is a great writer, in fact, he knows that "Ye Se" is not a great poet or a great writer in the minds of his classmates. It is just a school chatter or a vulgar joke after dinner. .

He really didn't expect that Shi Tiexin was able to recite the original text. At this moment, his heart was moved.

Shi Tiexin continued: "In fact, what you write is not useless—well, the poem is almost meaningless. But your prose is gorgeous, the novel is fluent, and the content is extensively cited."

p>

Shen Xingye scratched his head.

No, old iron, don't praise me, no matter how much you praise me, I won't laugh out loud, ah ha ha, ah ha ha ha!

This Shi has enough people, mountain road twists around each new peak: "But you have the most serious problem."

Shen Xingye asked nervously: "What is the problem? "

"Your words have no soul."

Shen Xingye is full of question marks: "Soul?"

"Yes." Shi Tiexin thought of Fujiwara Extremely true, remembering the soul of that man, he solemnly said: "Soul is love."

Shen Xingye blushed instantly and stammered: "Old iron, we can say goodbye It’s not so funny..."

"Do you think I'm kidding? I don't. I'm serious. The soul of literature comes from love." Shi Tiexin solemnly said: "You love what you write Role?"

"Can you respect their character and their thoughts?"

"Do you think they are alive? Do you have free will? Have you ever had the feeling that what the character says is what he wants to say, and what the character does is what he wants to do instead of being completely controlled by himself?"

"Can you interact with the character Breathing together sorrows and joys, happy with their happiness, sad with their sorrow?"

"Can you be pleased with the growth of the character and the end of the loneliness on the stage?"

"Will you have to stop, not write, or break the file for some reason, weeping bitter tears, tears in your heart, and tears in your pen?"

"Will you simply treat your own work? , Instead of grades, manuscript fees, income, number of readers, and worry about it?"

"When you write badly, you can't add to it."

"When you write smoothly, you are happy."

" neglect sleep and forget about food."

"You once said that your pen pal, who knows how to paint, can paint whatever you want to see. But what about you, why not write novels? Since You have a wonderful pen, so why don't you just write yellow text for the sole purpose of satisfying the sensory stimulation?"

"I tell you, when you really love your own words, you will not write."

"You will regard the characters as parents, children, lovers, and yourself."

"Because what you write is your best fantasy, pure emotion , And the most steadfast yearning."

"And this is love."

"If you are not good at writing, you can practice. If you don’t have enough knowledge, you can save it. It doesn’t matter if you can’t read the words. All are changeable. Only this unrepentant love is the soul. And as long as you have this soul, as long as you don’t let go--" Shi Tiexin raised his hand and pointed to Shen Xingye’s heart: "Your dream can't be taken away by anyone."

"Because of you In other words, everything in the text is alive, in the world you know. "

Shen Xingye, stupid.

He didn't expect, and he would hear such words from Shi Tiexin, which directly touched his soul.

>

He couldn't help asking: "You don't write novels, how did you know? "

"Because of myriad forms in the world, different routes to the same destination. Shi Tiexin smiled gently: "You love literature, but I love life." "