Back to 80: My literary life.

Chapter 728: Bus No.

Just at this moment, the phone on the desk rang. Fang Minghua put down the magazine and picked it up.

"Which one?"

"Minghua? I'm Li Tuo." Mandarin with a Beijing accent came from the other end of the microphone.

"Are you in the United States now or have you returned to China?" Fang Minghua asked.

"Haha, I've already returned to China. I'm at the Tianya magazine office in Haikou. The young worker is right in front of me. Why don't you say a few words to him first?"

Soon, a mandarin voice with a strong Hunan accent came from the microphone again: "Minghua, I am a young worker. You went to the United States and found such a good editor for me. I have to thank you."

"Haha, Shaogong, why are you being so polite to me? I should support you in publishing a magazine." Fang Minghua said with a smile while sitting on a chair with his legs crossed:

"I'm watching the latest issue of Tianya. Your moves are really extraordinary."

"This is all thanks to the strong support of the writers and the hard work of editors like Li Tuo. Hey, Minghua, I called you to ask you to write for the first issue of the revised version of Tianya, but you went abroad." Han Shaogong's tone on the phone was a little regretful: "Now that you are back, write an article?"

"I heard about this from my wife. Now that you've brought it up, I have to write it down even if I don't want to." Fang Ming said with a smile.

"Haha, that's good. I'll give the phone to Li Tuo and you two can chat." Han Shaogong said on the phone.

Soon, Li Tuo's voice came from the microphone again:

"Minghua, since you want to write, I can give you my opinions as the editor."

"You said."

"In Los Angeles, we attended a literary salon to talk about poetry. I thought you spoke very well, so I suggest that you write more articles on this subject. You also know that "intellectual writing" and "folk writing" are hot topics in the poetry world right now, and I would like to hear your opinion on this." Li Tuo expressed his opinion on the phone.

Write this?
I don't want to get involved.

But a direct refusal would be a bit humiliating, so Fang Minghua replied: "How about this, I'll think about it first?"

Li Tuo heard it on the other end of the phone.

Fang Minghua was not very willing to write.

But you can't force it, after all, it was commissioned by myself.

"Okay, there's no rush anyway. I think this argument is going to go on for a while. Tell me when you've made up your mind."

"Row."

The two chatted for a few more sentences and then hung up the phone.

Fang Minghua pondered over the content of the conversation.

Since I promised Han Shaogong and Li Tuo, I still have to write it, but I really don’t want to write anything theoretical.

Might as well write a novel about poetry.

The storyline is simple.

Lu Xijing, who lives in Xijing City, is a young bus driver with the same name as his hometown. He leads an ordinary life with his wife Chen Qian and a golden retriever.

Every day he drove bus No. 8 from the No. 3 National Cotton Mill to the Bell Tower, repeating the same route and leading an uneventful life.

His daily routine is simple: like all bus drivers in this city, he drives the bus every day, driving on the same streets, observing the city, watching his passengers through the windshield and listening to their conversations; but he also has hobbies that are different from other bus drivers.

He writes poetry!
He wrote poems in a notebook, and he would write down whatever he saw, thought, or got inspired.

For example, after driving the last bus last night, he was exhausted and took out his "Narrow Monkey". He then took out a match and lit one. Suddenly, he got an inspiration when he looked at the match that was about to burn out.

I rode my bike back home and couldn't wait to start writing in my notebook.

Xijing Blue Label Matches

At that time, we had not yet discovered Xijing Blue Label matches.
They are nicely and sturdily packaged
The small box has dark blue and light blue

Pinyin letters are arranged in the shape of a megaphone

If I were the smoke, you would be the match

Or I am the match and you are the cigarette
Burning is kissing, turning into smoke
Wandering into heaven.

He never thought of publishing his poems in a book, and his only reader was his wife Chen Qian.

After get off work, he would take his golden retriever for a walk in the ancient city, and occasionally go to Defu Lane, now a famous bar street in Xijing City. He would stay alone for a while in a bar called Laurel, drinking the same Hans beer, and then return to his wife. The next day, they woke up together.

In contrast, his wife Chen Qian is a handicraft enthusiast whose life is full of change - she has new plans almost every day.

Chen Qian wakes up every day recalling different dreams, and then starts her day's life projects - making cupcakes, making various handicrafts, and even drawing inexplicable paintings.

They loved each other deeply, he supported her vibrant ideas, and she listened to his ordinary work and extraordinary poetry.

Finally, one day, Lu Xijing agreed to print his works into a book by Chen Qian. Will his life change because of this?
When Fang Minghua finished writing, it would be a short story of about 10,000 words.

In fact, this novel called "Bus No. 8" was adapted by Fang Minghua based on a movie he had watched before coming to this era, "Paterson".

It is a feature film written and directed by American director Jim Jarmusch. It tells the life story of Paterson, a bus driver who loves to write poetry and his wife Laura.

The filming style of the film, like his story, flows slowly with poetry.

Patterson drives the bus, taking the same route. The town outside the window is quiet and peaceful. The few passengers on the bus tell their own stories, and the twin sisters he always meets add a little bit of weird surprise to Patterson's life. Life is plain as water day after day, doing the same thing on time. The only medicine to avoid being bored to death is the poetry and passion in your heart.

The film was nominated for the "Palme d'Or" at the Cannes Film Festival and was named one of the "Top Ten Foreign Films" at the Japan Film Junpo Awards, among other honors.

Fang Minghua felt that it was a bit like "Picnic at Hanging Rock" directed by Bi Gan, both using poetic language and a swaying filming style, but without the latter's stream-of-consciousness style.

Fang Minghua took just over three days to finish writing the novel and prepared to submit it to Tianya magazine.

Unfortunately, the magazine doesn't have an internet connection yet, so we can't send emails. We still have to print out the manuscript and mail it as before.

That afternoon, his wife went to work and the children went to school. Fang Minghua proofread the document carefully, printed it out, put it in his briefcase, and then went downstairs and out.

The post office outside Chaoyangmen is just a few steps away and you don’t need to drive.

After exiting the courtyard gate and before walking out of the alley, I saw a tall man walking towards me. He was wearing glasses and had long hair, and he had the temperament of a poet.

I got closer and saw it more clearly.

It turned out to be Nishikawa.

(End of this chapter)