1980 My literary era

Eating is a big deal for people in the 1980s.

Providing food for the day to a few people who queued up to buy books was a thank you to them.

At noon, the classroom turned into the cafeteria again. There is a glass window in the corner next to the podium and blackboard, which is opened every meal time.

Everyone was queuing up to get their meal. After Lin Weimin finished his meal, he turned around and saw Huang Anyi holding the food stamps in her hand and hesitating.

He took a look and took out a stack of bills from his pocket, "Here!"

The food stamps issued to everyone in the institute are national food stamps. According to the proportion, ten kilograms of national food stamps can be exchanged for four kilograms of rice stamps and six kilograms of face stamps.

Huang Anyi is from the south and has been accustomed to eating rice since she was a child. The monthly food stamps are not enough for her to eat. Last month, she endured eating pasta for almost half a month. This month, when she smelled the smell of steamed buns, her stomach started to feel acidic.

She looked down at the small stack of notes, which were about the size of a penny note and about the same color as kraft paper, with the black words "rice notes" printed on them.

"What are you doing?"

"I can't eat these rice stamps. Please help me digest them." Lin Weimin said with a smile.

Huang Anyi glanced at him suspiciously, she didn't believe there were people these days who couldn't even eat rice.

Seeing that she didn't believe it, Lin Weimin grabbed her hand and forced the rice stamps into her hand.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" Huang Anyi struggled with a red face.

"Just take it if it's given to you, don't grind it."

After saying that, regardless of Huang Anyi's reaction, she took the lunch box and left.

After he left, Huang Anyi was immediately surrounded by several other girls in the same dormitory.

"Classmate Huang Anyi, tell me honestly, what is going on?"

"What's going on? How do I know what's going on?"

Huang Anyi blushed and said, hurriedly went to the window to line up for food, and escaped from the questioning of several people.

While eating, her eyes glanced at Lin Weimin from time to time, feeling flustered.

During the afternoon class, teacher Tang Yuqiu found Lin Weimin during the break.

"Go out with me to meet someone tonight."

"Meeting whom?"

"Rong Shihui, he is the editor of "Contemporary"."

Lin Weimin suddenly became a little nervous. This was the first time for him to meet an editor at this age.

In the past, articles were published through submission. He asked: "Why do I still need to meet with the editor?"

"What? Are you nervous?" Tang Yuqiu teased.

"That's not true." Lin Weimin said sternly, "Mr. Qian already said that if you think the eggs are delicious, there's no need to see the hen, right?"

"Stop talking nonsense here. I was talking about it for readers. Now I want you to communicate with the editor about your creative experience and the selection and modification of manuscripts."

"Oh well."

After class in the afternoon, Lin Weimin was still planning to have a bite to eat, but Tang Yuqiu dragged him, "The editor is waiting for you in the editorial office before getting off work. How dare you eat?"

Lin Weimin thought to himself that I was sorry, but he didn't dare because he was afraid of being beaten to death.

No. 166 Chaonei Street, where National Literature Publishing House is located.

There is a boxy five-story building facing the street. The gray exterior wall looks old. Rows of windows on the wall are closed. They are the earliest iron windows. You can see clearly from a distance. Chu.

The courtyard wall of the National Literature Publishing House is not high, with wall piers and iron railings. Tang Yuqiu took Lin Weimin to register and walked into the courtyard.

The first building he saw was the main building of the National Literature Publishing House. After passing through the back door of the corridor of the main building, the two came to the backyard.

There is also a red brick building here, which looks much newer than the front building. It must not have been built for a few years.

The red brick building has four floors. Lin Weimin followed Tang Yuqiu up to the second floor. It was similar to most office buildings of this era. There were offices in the north and south, and a corridor in the middle. The walls were painted with white gray and light green paint. up skirt.

After walking a few steps, you can still see the blackboard on the wall of the corridor, with some content written on it, which looks like the work schedule of the editorial department.

The editorial office is a south-facing room. When you enter the office, there are several tables placed by the windows and walls. Each table is filled with manuscripts, and there are also stacks of papers on the floor. A thick brown paper bag containing the manuscript tied with a rope, with the name of the manuscript written on it.

There were not many people in the office at this time, there were only two people, presumably they were all off work.

Rong Shihui was immersed in reading the manuscript, and Tang Yuqiu said: "Shihui, I brought you the person."

Rong Shihui looked up from a pile of manuscripts. He was a middle-aged man with a clear face, a pair of glasses hanging on his nose, and said with a smile: "He's finally here."

"Come on, come on, sit down."

He stood up and warmly greeted the two of them to sit down, while pouring them a cup of hot tea.

Tang Yuqiu formally introduced the two of them, and Rong Shihui looked at Lin Weimin with some appreciation in his eyes.

"It's rare to be able to write such a good article at such a young age!"

"Editor-in-Chief, thank you very much." Lin Weimin said modestly.

After a few pleasantries, Rong Shihui and Lin Weimin got down to business.

Lin Weimin had written two manuscripts before. After reading them, Tang Yuqiu felt that he recommended the novel "The Death of Yura" inspired by "One Flew Over the Bedlam" to "Contemporary".

It took four or five days after the manuscript was brought in. Rong Shihui read it once, which was equivalent to a preliminary review. He then gave the manuscript to his colleague Zhu Changsheng to read it again. The two reviewed the manuscript in agreement.

The manuscript is very good, but the overall tone is too dark and very magical, which is not in line with the realism style of "Contemporary".

He first handed the manuscript to Qin Chaoyang, deputy director and editor-in-chief of the editorial department, for final review. Today, he specifically asked Tang Yuqiu to find Lin Weimin, the novelist, and plan to have a good chat with him.

During this conversation, Rong Shihui really discovered something unique.

"So, this novel was written entirely because of watching the movie once?"

"Yeah." Lin Weimin nodded, "It's equivalent to the homework that Teacher Tang left for me."

Tang Yuqiu smiled happily.

When talking about his thoughts during the creation, Lin Weimin said simply, "The ending of the story was already there, and everyone advised me to write it using the ending and tone of the story. It's just like an open-book exam, it's not difficult."

"As for the style issue, the tone was indeed set from the beginning, and it's not easy to change it now. It's a bit darker, but I think it might be more powerful."

Lin Weimin's understatement makes people feel that writing a novel like "The Death of Yura" is as simple as drinking water.

Rong Shihui immediately realized that the style of "The Death of Yura" was incompatible with "Contemporary" and put it aside for now. However, judging from his many years of editing experience, the quality is definitely superior, and the writing method is also very novel. , a bit like the magicism that is now popular abroad.

The young man in front of him was so young, but he wrote such an article without any trouble, which made him unconsciously raise his expectations and evaluation in his heart.

He thought again of Lin Weimin's experience, which Tang Yuqiu had told him before. I wrote a novel for a year and won the National Outstanding Short Story Award just a few pieces after it was officially published.

Rong Shihui suddenly had an idea in his mind, this boy was born to eat this bowl of rice!