After resting for two days in a row, I slept in the dark. Until the body protests and can no longer stay in bed. I was lazy and had to get up.
Six thirty in the morning. The beginning of the day is full of unknown possibilities.
Dress and wash.
finish breakfast. Use a ballpoint pen to transcribe the printed text word by word on the manuscript paper.
3580 words.
I wrote for three hours.
Sore fingers. I am not satisfied with the font I wrote.
Take a deep breath. Turn on the phone and look at the date displayed on the screen. September 16, 2019. Monday. 11 noon.
Find the nearest Chinese postal address on Baidu. Although the distance is only 1.4 kilometers. Still using the mobile phone to navigate. I am not familiar with this city.
It has been a long time since I sent a letter. What kind of anxiety is in my heart. The lyrical songs sung by Da Zhuang came from the earphones, which seemed to turn the inner emotions into lingering rivers winding and changing each other.
"Excuse me, do you have an envelope? I want to send a letter." He summoned up a lot of courage.
"A letter?" The other party couldn't help but become suspicious.
I thought to myself that modern network technology is so advanced that there are still people sending letters.
"Have you brought your ID card?"
"Oh. I forgot." I didn't expect to send a letter with an ID card.
"I'm sorry. It's an extraordinary time. If you don't have an ID card, you can't send the letter."
I had to go home to get my ID card.
The light of the sun at noon is particularly strong.
It seems to give all the light to the people walking on the road. The small shops along the street showed a decadent look because of the lack of customers. Even the bustling supermarket seemed extremely deserted.
After going back and forth twice, I finally sent the letter as I wished.
When the postal staff asked who the recipient was, for some reason I became unconfident. After thinking about it again and again, I filled in the new concept composition contest in the recipient column.
In 2017, I had the idea of ??participating in the competition. I always feel that the writing style is not enough and needs to be refined.
When I finished writing (I would like to stay by your side), my whole body and mind were in a state of paralysis. Suddenly confused how to choose the path under your feet.
Negotiated with an editor at a studio.
? Write 6,000 words a day, 4 yuan per 1,000 words. There is no requirement for literary talent, as long as you write it out. There are 350,000 words of preface.
On the night when I decided to write. I looked at the ten magazines on the bedside table.
The registration form for the 22nd National New Concept Composition Contest is here. Hidden ambitions are stimulated.
What is my fighting spirit?
Time is like a net, trapping me. I re-examined my life with my misty eyes open.
The notification tone of the message from the mobile phone.
The 350,000-word preface has been sent.
The body trembled.
Looking at the previous articles in a daze. This is not something I want to write about. The plot is corny and superficial.
And I also began to doubt whether I had the strength to write 6,000 words after working 12 hours a day.
Very contradictory.
But I have never been sloppy, and there is no one around me who can guide me in the wrong way.
I can only rely on myself.
12 midnight. I declined the part-time writing of the studio. Turn to participate in the new concept composition contest.
The deadline for submissions is November. Fortunately, everything came in time. A hot heart is wrapped on the thick manuscript paper, and it rushes into the distance with my expectations for the future.
The new concept composition contest that I have been thinking about, finally took a brave step when I was 29 years old.
When transcribing an article, I hope for success in my heart. A piece of manuscript paper was torn up, rewritten, and torn up, entangled in whether every word, every word, and even punctuation marks were used properly.
I am a person who deals with words all the year round. At this moment, I feel strange and humble to the words.
The words that fell on the paper looked like a language that mocked me.
The moment of finalization. I had the idea of ??giving up again.
After paying the courier fee of 12 yuan. I walked out of the post office.
The sun is still so strong. Suddenly you don't care if you succeed or not.
Words such as "the focus is on participation" have long been the source of comfort for me at the moment.
Never had a good look at the city at noon. Most of my life is filled with work.
Seven in the morning and eight in the evening. This is my time on the road. A 12-minute journey has never been easier.?Look all over the place. Never stopped for a certain moving scene.
I have passed countless people. Walk through countless unexperienced worlds.
They and me, me and them, met each other 0.0007, and passed by indifferently.
In a week full of confusion, I finished reading a book about computer flat knitting machines. At that time, I decided to write a novel about such things. It is in the conception stage. But he didn't write for a long time. I put all my tenderness on that game with no return date.
At the age of 15, I dreamed of participating in the competition.
I have been wandering and hesitating.
When I calm my mind. The footsteps become steady, no longer eager to be recognized by others, and shrunk in their own small world.
Don't be humble and don't say anything.
Brave and proud.
Many people say that I am a nerd, and some even say that I can only talk on paper.
Paper creates a fantasy world.
The moment the letter was sent. It seems to be frozen forever.
The sky and the earth rotate with the ups and downs of the years.
I am looking for light in the gap of time.
I am trying to piece together my dreams. Although it pales. (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com