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

Chapter 85 was reprinted until paper ran out.

Liu Yimin signed his name in the magazine, took out three yuan from his pocket and handed it to Yu Jiajia. Yu Jiajia was about to refuse when Liu Yimin said:
"If the magazine requires you to pay for it, how can it be considered a gift from me?"

Then he spread out his manuscript paper and wrote a reply to the workers at the forest farm, expressing that it was an honor for them to see his novel, and that they were the ones who deserved the most praise.

The cause of desertification control benefits the present and future generations!

Liu Yimin really wanted to say something grand and thankful, but after writing it down, he felt like he was just being boastful, much like Yu Jiajia had been.

"Compared to them, I'm too embarrassed to shout any slogans. Comrade Yu Jiajia, I'm going to buy some milk candy, please take it up with me! I believe that one day, Saihanba will become an oasis, and I hope that one day I will have the opportunity to go and see it!"

"Okay, I'll definitely bring it!"

Liu Yimin left the library and bought a bag of White Rabbit milk candy, which he then gave to Yu Jiajia.

"Goodbye, Comrade Liu Yimin!"

"Comrade Yu Jiajia, I hope you will come back with something!"

After seeing Yu Jiajia off, Liu Yimin did not go directly back to Yenching University. Instead, he rode his bicycle to Villa No. 67 in Yandong Garden, knocked on the door of the former director Yang Hui, and asked him for advice on writing a play script.

After reviewing the portion Liu Yimin had written, Yang Hui immediately pointed out his problem: "Plays and novels are different. You can't just know that the language is different; you also need to understand that the scenes are different. You need to first imagine a setting, a space, and in that space, what people are doing what. You also need to know what it's like on the stage."

Clearly describe your stage setup and scene transitions. Imagine yourself in the center of the stage, what the principal is doing, and what his movements are like; what Zhang Yiman is doing, and what her movements are like. Use language to help the audience quickly understand the characters' personalities.

Liu Yimin listened attentively and quickly wrote down what Yang Hui said.

"Drama is an art of language, and language should be concise. Your language is too verbose; the actors might faint after speaking it!"

Finally, Yang Hui suggested that Liu Yimin go to the Beijing People's Art Theatre to watch a few plays and experience the stage, so that he could adapt the plays more effectively.

After Liu Yimin nodded in agreement, he said goodbye to Yang Hui and left Yandongyuan, a place full of professors. He planned to listen to Yang Hui and then go to the Beijing People's Art Theatre to watch a few plays to find inspiration when he had time.

Tickets? Just ask Lan Tianye. For the sake of creation, free tickets are a must-have.

Inside the Long March canteen, Liu Yimin sat opposite Cui Daoyi, while next to Cui Daoyi was Zhang Guangnian, the editor-in-chief of People's Literature. After the three met, Zhang Guangnian kept looking at Liu Yimin, and the admiration in his eyes never disappeared.

He sighed inwardly. This person was young and reserved, unlike many others who couldn't wait to show off their talents so that others would know they had something special. They exuded an aura that said, "Don't bother me."

"Old Cui always praises you, and so does Ai Qing. Now it seems they were right. Comrade Liu Yimin, do you know how many copies our magazine has sold this month?" Zhang Guangnian asked cryptically while picking up some food.

Liu Yimin glanced at Cui Daoyi, who pursed his lips and smiled slightly, saying nothing and focusing only on eating.

Three hundred thousand copies?

Zhang Guangnian shook his head and said, "Just a heads-up, last month's sales were 380,000 copies!" "500,000 copies?"

Zhang Guangnian and Cui Daoyi exchanged a glance and said, "I'm just kidding. This month, we promised our superiors that we would sell 500,000 copies, which we already thought would be very difficult. We didn't expect to achieve that by the middle of the month. Now the sales volume is almost 700,000 copies, and we expect to reach 800,000 copies this month."

"You wouldn't believe it, but to get it printed, we used up our entire month's paper quota. We had to urgently contact the relevant departments, and with the support of the Ministry of Culture, we were allocated a new batch of paper. Luckily, it was from our magazine, *People's Literature and Art*; if it were from a magazine like *Yanjing Literature and Art*, we simply wouldn't have been able to get that much paper."

After Zhang Guangnian finished speaking, a proud expression appeared on his face. As the current head of the National Writers Association, he was qualified to say such things.

Eight hundred thousand copies—this number surprised Liu Yimin. He also couldn't help but marvel at how these past few years have truly been the best era for literature. Sales figures of hundreds of thousands or even millions of copies are rarely seen in other countries.

At that time, the top-selling book in the United States sold around 200,000 copies annually, while a single book by a typical Chinese author could even reach a million copies. Considering the population ratio at the time, the number of readers in China was far greater than in the United States.

Of course, this was due to the times; Americans at that time had more entertainment options besides reading.

Cui Daoyi added at the opportune moment: "So, Yimin, you should still submit your work to People's Literature and Art in the future. The Writers Association has a publishing house, People's Publishing House. After this issue ends, I will communicate with the publishing house and publish a standalone book for you."

At this moment, Cui Daoyi wished he could write on his face: If you want to cooperate, find a big platform!

"Putting everything else aside, Yimin, you've really impressed me. I'll treat you to dinner to thank you for your huge help; otherwise, it would have been very difficult to meet this period's sales target."

“Mr. Zhang, I can’t accept such a compliment. I grew up singing the Yellow River Cantata, and your songs have always inspired me to move forward.”

"Is that how you praise Ai Qing?" Zhang Guangnian said, then laughed at himself.

If possible, Liu Yimin would rather not meet with these editors. Because every meeting inevitably ends with the discussion of the next manuscript.

This is the most troublesome time for him!

“Recently, the Beijing People’s Art Theatre wanted me to revise a script, which has distracted me a bit. Also, I want to try a medium-length or long novel. This novel spans a long period of time and involves many characters. I want to comprehensively showcase the people and their lives in old Beijing from around 1937 to after the founding of the People’s Republic of China. I want to look at the social changes from an unusual perspective.”

Liu Yimin did not tell them a specific deadline for completing the manuscript.

“Good things come to those who wait, and People’s Literature and Art can wait. If you want to know more, you can come to People’s Literature and Art to find me anytime. I know that period of history very well!” Zhang Guangnian exclaimed.

"Yimin, you don't mean you don't want to submit your work to People's Literature and Art this time, do you?" Cui Daoyi asked rhetorically.

Liu Yimin protested, "Old Zhang, look at my senior brother, he always tries to put me in a difficult position every time he comes!"

"Where do you think Old Cui got his reputation as a famous editor?" Zhang Guangnian teased, then added, "Yimin, no need to call him Old Zhang, just call him Old Zhang, or Comrade Old Zhang."

(End of this chapter)