Writer 1978: I Need to Give the Literary World a Lesson

Chapter 32 The Shocking Royalty Standards

A large readership for literary works means a significant impact of words. It's not a skill to manipulate people's emotions with heart-wrenching storylines; true ability lies in touching people's hearts with warm words.

After Liu Yimin finished writing the latest plot, he checked it over and found no major problems before turning off the lights in the room and going to bed.

It's good to have a light bulb. If he were writing this late at home in Maiji Brigade, the kerosene lamp would surely have blackened his nostrils.

In high school, some teachers would stay up too late at night and, if they weren't careful in the morning, their nostrils would be as black as if they'd been in a coal mine. Whenever this happened, the students would try their best to let the other students see it, and then they would exchange knowing smiles.

The moon was exceptionally round today, and its light streamed through the outward-facing glass windows, turning the ground as white as snow. Adding to this, the pine trees outside the tenement building swayed occasionally, making the ground truly resemble the scene described by Su Dongpo: "like a pool of clear water, with algae and duckweed intertwined."

On August 20th, Liu Yimin was chatting and boasting with the director, Lao Zhang, and a few others at the cultural center. Writers often like to gather and chat when they have free time, ostensibly to exchange creative experiences, but in reality, most of the time they're just flattering each other.

There's a saying that goes, "The first skill a writer should learn is not writing skills, but the ability to flatter."

Since Liu Yimin joined the creative group, Director Zhang no longer likes to stay in his office. Every day when he comes to work, he goes straight to the creative group. People from the other art guidance groups and cultural relics groups also come over from time to time to ask for a drink of water.

But flattery in the office is awkward, because if Liu Yimin is there, the others are too embarrassed to flatter others, and it's awkward for the flatterer to flatter, and even more awkward for the person being flattered.

Ultimately, it's because people in cultural centers and literary circles still have some sense of shame.

Unlike later generations, when a group of university teachers and famous poets held a special meeting to discuss Miss Jia's "toilet humor" poems, with everyone gathered around, trying every possible way to praise her, finding angles to emulate and rhetoric to use when none could find them.

Miss Jia sat in the center with a shy expression, pretending to be flattered.

Since we couldn't focus on "literary ability," we started talking about other things. So we began sharing our experiences, especially some interesting anecdotes about the members of the creative team.

Liu Yimin's ability to flatter is still lacking; he only makes sighs incessantly.

The speaker was quite pleased with himself after uttering only a few exclamations of "hiss," "ah," and "ouch."

Over time, everyone came to appreciate Liu Yimin more and more. Despite his early fame, he was approachable and respectful to these unambitious older comrades. Even Lao Li considered making Liu Yimin a close friend despite the age gap.

Old Sun would occasionally stand next to Liu Yimin, talking about the funny things his granddaughter Sun Yihong did at home, laughing and joking while secretly observing Liu Yimin's reaction.

Seeing that Liu Yimin's expression was normal, a sense of disappointment rose in her heart.

Does he really look down on his own precious granddaughter? She's a high school student, after all! But when she gets home, his granddaughter often asks him about what happened at the cultural center.

“The cultural center in Luoyang invited me to work there before, but I didn’t go. I said that if you’re going to do revolution, you can do it anywhere! Back then, my writing was pretty good. Old Zhang can testify to that; the provincial writers’ association even invited me to a meeting back then.”

"hiss!"

Old Li, holding a teacup, was spitting as he spoke. He glanced at Liu Yimin's reaction out of the corner of his eye and felt secretly pleased. Old Zhang also said with a smile, "I can testify that this was indeed the case at the time. The higher-ups were afraid that I wouldn't release him, so they came to persuade me."

There's a lot of exaggeration in Lao Li's story, and Lao Zhang is happy to praise him. He can tell the difference between a sarcastic Lao Li and a cheerful, obedient Lao Li.

The others gathered around with their teacups, asking Old Li to tell them about the meeting at the Writers' Association. In reality, he had only gone once. The train was delayed, and he got lost that day because he didn't know the way. By the time he arrived, the first half of the meeting had already ended, and he didn't officially attend until the next day.

But he started telling everyone how many leaders entered the meeting on the first day, and how they personally shook hands with him to encourage him.

He wasn't afraid of being exposed, because he was the only one from the entire cultural center who attended that meeting! "Let me tell you..."

Everyone was chatting animatedly when the postman walked in without them noticing. The postman was a regular here; he delivered newspapers and mail to the cultural center as if it were his own home.

However, this was the first time he had delivered a letter to "Liu Yimin." He knew that this was a new writer at the cultural center, and that he was different from the other writers at the cultural center because he had real talent.

"Comrade Liu Yimin, this is a letter from the Poetry Journal," the postman said with a smile.

"You guys keep chatting, I'll go get it!" Liu Yimin said apologetically, seeing the conversation abruptly end.

"Has it been approved? What's there to talk about? Let's share in the joy," Old Li said happily.

Old Zhang was especially excited and took the letter first. But just as he was about to tear it open, he handed it to Liu Yimin with embarrassment.

Comrade Liu Yimin:
We have received your poem. Its theme is clear, its ideas are lofty, and its conception is novel. Our organization has unanimously decided to publish it. We hope you will continue to maintain your creative enthusiasm and create more excellent poems for the people.

We hope you will continue to submit your work. You can submit your next manuscript directly to Comrade Zou Huofan.

Poetry Journal Editorial Office

"The manuscript approved by Mr. Zou? Mr. Zou is back to work?" Old Li said in surprise.

Liu Yunsheng exclaimed, "He must have just come out. Yimin is remarkable. Old Zou is a pillar of the poetry world."

Old Zhang trembled as he took the manuscript letter and said excitedly, "My wish has finally come true. After so many years of dreaming, it has finally come true."

The crowd hadn't dispersed yet, and Liu Yimin knew what they wanted to see, so he opened the remittance slip. It showed 24 yuan for the manuscript fee, which worked out to 6 yuan per thousand words. The calculation for poetry is different from that for novels; poetry is calculated as 1000 words for every 10 lines.

"Six yuan per thousand words? That's so high?" The people at the cultural center weren't envious of the high royalties, but rather shocked by the standard rate.

"I heard that Su Lao's manuscript fee is only six yuan per thousand words. Yimin, your first poem has already reached the standard of the first chairman of the Henan Provincial Federation of Literary and Art Circles?" Old Li said incredulously.

Liu Yimin smiled faintly and said, "Perhaps it's to encourage me."

"Don't be modest, these standards are making me a little breathless. Let me catch my breath, let me catch my breath..."

The amount of royalties reflects the status of different writers; higher royalties indicate better writing and editorial approval. While it's related to the amount of money, it's more about saving face.

After most of the day, the people at the cultural center had finished digesting the information and were all inwardly marveling at what a genius they were. This was a true genius.

As you can see, even Poetry Journal broke with convention for him; I've never heard of any newcomer being so amazing!

After a long silence in the office, Liu Yunsheng wanted to change the subject, so he pulled Lao Li aside and said, "Lao Li, tell us again about your experience attending the Writers' Association meeting? We all want to hear it."

Old Li was about to speak when he glanced at Liu Yimin, who had already sat down at his desk and picked up a pen. He suddenly felt bored and said sullenly, "Let's learn from Yimin and write more. Maybe we'll get published someday."

Old Zhang said with his hands behind his back, as if he had come to terms with it: "We can't be too demanding."

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(End of this chapter)