It’s been a long time, and after so many years of writing, I no longer have the courage to count my seniority as an author with my fingers, and then feel complacent about myself and still float in the world of writing. I stayed in Lukang for almost the whole summer, and accidentally fished out some early messes and mood notes while groping here and there.Those records about before and after the acceptance of the first manuscript are simply novel.Because I have almost forgotten about it, and devoted myself to creation. It started because my mother had a tumor in her uterus and needed to rest for a long time;After sending out the manuscript, during the waiting time, I felt a little nervous.

The only thing I can't put down is the pen; but can the pen make me, or destroy me? If writing is not the refuge of my dreams, where should I find my life?For me who have nothing but fantasies? Should I believe that I am as talented as others say I am? The notebook was flipped over, aha!Another page long enough to remember for a long time. 82.9.22: Miss Xiang from Wansheng called and said my book could be published!I am about to publish a book. 82.9.23: Ms. Xiang very politely invited me to go north to Publishing Du as a guest when I was free. I replied directly: OK, when?Am I being too rude?

82.9.27: I went to the publishing house today and came back.I have long been curious about what the publishing house looks like, and I am very happy to see it today, but I can’t figure out my feelings for a while, I just feel very satisfied. I gradually remembered the original mood.Withdrawing my sanity from the memory, I found myself smiling silly and naive. God, how could I have taken sister Xiang's kind words seriously?And I couldn't wait to make an appointment to go to Taipei, which disturbed people all day!Compared with the situation that I heard that there are many authors in Wansheng who have not yet set foot in the publishing house, I am a bit too aggressive.

Before I failed to support myself with writing, I fed my spiritual realm with dreams, and wrote down any idea, scene, or pure character setting or book title that came to my mind in a notebook every day.I am very happy to weave beautiful dreams because of these things, and I no longer feel that work and study are enough to wear me down. I have never been a genius writer, but you can't see how many times I have stumbled.The only thing I have is arrogance, which sometimes seems too domineering and repulsive.The arrogance made me push my pace, and I should not find reasons for my failures. This is good, but the arrogance also disgusted me, and I began to review my words and deeds.After all, as I grow older, it is impossible to tolerate my innocence that has not improved!Hey, naturally, I'm not who I was four or five years ago.

My father and some teachers pointed to my nose and said I was proud when I was very young.At that time, I just thought vaguely: so what?At least I didn't get in anyone's way.But after becoming an author, I have the self-consciousness of restraint.Four or five years of heart, after reading the notes, I saw that I was indeed changing, and I was delighted, and I appreciated myself more and more. Hey, I guess narcissism is a little bit better than pride, right? I’m in a good mood today, flipping through the old handwriting, flashing scenes of the past in my mind, and I don’t mind the cold weather and ice-cold hands and feet (I’m nestled in a quilt anyway).

Winter is coming, let us look forward to spring together. next year.