I said yesterday that I was going to take a vacation. The original plan was to write another chapter today and take a Saturday off tomorrow. Then I would take the next three weekends, including the one on Children's Day. That would be a total of four days. So I squinted my eyes and tried to continue writing the story. Then I found that I had written a pile of sh * t.
Just when I felt that I had written a pile of sh * t, I finally saw Canghai's review in the book review section. I read it carefully and kept silent for a long time. Because his praise made me confused, I gave up on that pile of sh * t. I decided to take a break from now on. I didn't care about the reason, I just wanted to have a good rest for a few days.
I had to clarify the main topic first. Otherwise, I would end up in such a situation: I wrote a lot of sh * t because I was lazy and didn't want to write. Yes, I will take seven days off. I will go back to Hubei. I won't do anything. I just want to use these seven days to have a good time. I don't want to think about anything else.
Before you get upset, let me add a few words. After seven days, Jiang Ye will no longer take a weekend off. In fact, it is a vacation. If you are willing to continue reading, there are more because I want to talk to you.
I talked to Yuncai the day before yesterday. He and I both gave Jiang Ye a similar score. I gave it 7.8, which ranked second among all the stories I had written. We both thought it was good. However, I wasn't satisfied. This was because I had written more than an 8 out of 10. The main reason I gave Jiang Ye 7.8 out of 10 was because I hadn't finished the book yet. There was still one and a half volumes of content and several hundred thousand words. If I could write better in the later chapters, I was confident that I could get more than an 8 out of 10.
I was ambitious about Jiang Ye. I reported to everyone when I started writing the book two years ago that I wanted this book to be good. The result was good, which proved that my writing was good. But ambition was like weeds. It was hidden, but it didn't mean it didn't exist. Besides writing good, I also wanted to write well.
Just like what Canghai said in the book review, "The Academy said that life should be meaningful, which in fact means that I said that books should be well-written. If there is some meaningful material, then it is the so-called good writing. My problem now is that I am in a very confused stage. Not to mention the latter, it has become very difficult to achieve the former, and I am seriously lacking in confidence. As for why I have this feeling, it has nothing to do with anything else. It is purely because I am a little tired from writing, and my ability to conceive the plot has been severely tested.
This was truly a painful matter. Cloud knew that I had been living a chaotic life over the past few days, and that I was incredibly worried. Some of my friends would think that this was nothing more than my latest excuse for slacking off and taking time off. I deserved to be teased or scolded. Alright then, I was probably one of those legendary bitches who couldn't sleep and would sit in front of the computer. Actually, I was still playing games and procrastinating. I wasn't writing because I couldn't write, and I wasn't thinking because I couldn't think of anything.
Why was it that what was written and then deleted was bullshit? Because I haven't slept for more than thirty hours. Why haven't I slept? Because they were playing. Why were they playing? Because he couldn't sleep. Why couldn't he sleep? Because he would start thinking of plots while lying on the bed. Just like what I told everyone a few days ago, I still couldn't think of any good plots.
As a professional writer, of course, I had to have basic professional ethics. Compared to other writers, I was already lazy enough and wrote slowly enough. I even had to take a day off every week. It seemed like it should be easy, but in reality, thinking about plots continuously for a long period of time had accumulated to the point that it was annoying and tiring. Other things could be solved easily, but if I couldn't think of a good enough plot, there was really no solution to this, because it was a problem with my brain.
I asked Lin Hai and my other friends for advice. They said that it was because I had too high expectations for myself. I was very gratified when I heard that. I thought to myself that I still had my literary pretentiousness, but I also felt very embarrassed. Because we were all my closest friends, of course I had to say nice things. But if I put it in another way, it might not sound so nice. Maybe it was just like what some of my friends said, that I had a problem with my brain.
I had been writing for so many years, but I had always been scolded and ridiculed for having a hipster disease. I had said before that if hipsterism was really a disease, I wouldn't treat it anyway. After all these years of writing, I had been quite popular, hadn't I?
But … it was really tiring. I had said before that updating was tiring and writing was tiring. In fact, when I looked back at all these years, I had to say without fear of being scolded that thinking about the plots of these novels was the most tiring thing.
Perhaps it was as I had said many times in interviews in the past. I didn't need inspiration, but I really needed a good mental state. My mental state was really bad for the past ten days.
Now that I thought about it, if we were talking about the mental state of writing plots, it was still during Suzaku. Was it because I was single at that time? Was it because I didn't have anything to worry about? Or was it because when he couldn't write anything back then, he just stopped writing? He didn't have to do what he was doing now, desperately struggling to write a satisfactory chapter, but accumulating the pressure until the next day, until he couldn't bear it anymore.
I remembered the first time I went to the Northeast to meet the leader in September that year. I immediately applied for a month's leave. I didn't feel any psychological pressure when I applied, and the readers happily wished me a safe journey.
Of course, the situation now was definitely different from back then. Professional writers had to be able to withstand this kind of pressure. The readers spent money to read, tipped, and voted, so why shouldn't I work hard?
But there were really many kinds of hard work. My current terrible mental state was really the result of hard work. I had to think of a way to change it. I had to make hard work produce results. Only then would I be able to write well for the next twenty years. Only then would I be able to continue writing for you for the next twenty years.
Starting from the year of Qing Yu, in these six years, I've applied for all kinds of leave, sick leave, personal leave, annual leave that I couldn't write out, but I've never applied for leave without a reason. I really couldn't find a reason for this seven days of leave. I just needed a period of time to relax, or even to party. If I can't drink beer, then I'll drink less white wine.
Taking a break doesn't always have a good result. It might even make the author lazier, or even collapse. But I'm not worried about this, and you don't need to worry either. Because the purpose of my rest is to write this story above an eight out of ten. I want all the stories I write in the future to be above an eight out of ten. I can definitely do it.
To achieve this is indeed a difficult task. But I have confidence, because I know that deep down, I'm a ruthless person. I'm a ruthless person to myself. More than ten years ago, in Chengdu, I went to the stadium with my university classmates to buy tickets for a football match. I wanted to resell the tickets to make some money. At that time, it was really overcrowded. We lined up for an entire night, and in the wee hours of the morning, the line was broken. The iron railings were knocked down, and some people fell to the ground bleeding. Some people were squeezed until their intestines were cut into pieces. In the end, all the classmates around me were squeezed out, and only I stood at the very end with a dull expression.
I bought the tickets, and in the end, I earned four dollars. This was a famous joke in our university, and it was also a good joke that has continuously provided me with moral support. I know to what extent I can do it.
I wrote two thousand five hundred words for this leave of absence. I said this not to express my sincerity, but to say that with my current mental state, I'm afraid that I won't be able to write good content. But if I don't care about the quality, it really isn't difficult to write a three thousand word chapter of Approaching Night. Of course, this explanation might not have any meaning. My friends who want to scold me will still scold me. But for those of you who have been supporting and tolerating me all these years, I want to explain it to you.
I once wrote this sentence in one of my monthly votes: You can choose not to vote, but I can't not vote. What I said was powerful and resonant, and it caused countless echoes in the pugilistic world. In fact, this chapter has the same meaning. Perhaps you don't want to hear my reason, but I have to seriously report it to you.
No matter what, I thank everyone.
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。 (To be continued.) If you like this work, please come to Qidian.Com to vote for me. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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