The literary era since 1979

Chapter 124 Teacher Fang is a real idea king

After the award ceremony, Gu Hua, Jiang Zilong and Lu Yao left one after another, and Fang Yan would go to Yanjing Railway Station to see them off.

After waving goodbye, I returned to the editorial office of October.

The biggest change in the office is that Zhang Zhonge finally returned to the medium and long-length group and no longer had to continue reflecting at home.

The "Bitter Love" incident seemed to have never happened, and everything returned to normal. People still gathered to play cards at noon.

Every time they played cards, Fangyan would always bring Zhang Zhonge along, and through the lively card game, he would help Zhang Zhonge reintegrate into the larger group.

Lu Yuanchi, Zhang Shouren, Tian Zengxiang and others also saw through the situation but did not say anything. They were very willing to cooperate and had a lot of fun fighting.

One, three, and five, play bridge.

246, upgrade.

Reflecting at home on Sunday, Fangyan, oh Fangyan, how could you be so degenerate! Have you forgotten the creative task of a professional writer? Confucius said: "I examine myself three times a day', I can't go on like this!

A new day begins, followed by music and dancing.

"Now, not only October, but many magazines and newspapers have begun to pay attention to works on the theme of love."

Lu Yuanchi glanced at the three of them and finally started talking about work.

Zhang Shouren put down his cards. "According to what I know, the Yanjing newspapers and periodicals alone, such as People's Literature, Contemporary, Yanjing Literature, and Youth Literature, are all competing for manuscripts of love literature. Apparently, the higher-ups have realized that blocking is worse than easing. Instead of banning Qiongyao novels, it is better to satisfy the readers' yearning for beautiful love. I guess this fire will spread across the country next."

"Yes."

Lu Yuanchi sighed: "Although the publishing house has Xiao Fang's "Under the Hawthorn Tree" taking the lead, if there is no subsequent work that matches "Under the Hawthorn Tree", the stamina will be insufficient."

Fang Yan smiled and said that he had already been commissioned to write two articles, one was "It's Hard to Meet Again" by Wang Meng, and the other was "Ark" by Zhang Jie.

Lu Yuanchi pondered and said, "This alone may not be enough. Is there any other way to make October stand out in this storm of love literature?"

Tian Zengxiang, Zhang Shouren, Zhang Zhonge and others looked at Fang Yan. Fang Yan raised his eyebrows and asked, "Why are you all looking at me?"
Lu Yuanchi asked: "Xiao Fang, what do you think?"

Fangyan thought for a while, "After participating in the Outstanding Novella Award, I had this idea: Can October also hold a literary award like the Literary Gazette?"

"Creating a literary prize?"

Lu Yuanchi, Zhang Shouren and others were shocked.

"Yes, all the current literary awards are established by the Writers Association and its affiliated units. No literary journal has ever established a literary award. If October can take the initiative..."

In dialect, we say look left, look right.

Zhang Shouren continued with his idea and said that by using awards to attract and unite authors and readers, the reputation and influence of "October" could be enhanced within the industry and among readers.

After all, "October" is the first to try it!
"But there are already awards for outstanding short stories and novellas, and the Lu Xun Literature Award and Mao Dun Literature Award will soon be established."

Zhang Zhonge frowned.

"Teacher Zhang is right. No matter in terms of quantity, categories, attention or influence, how can we compare with major literary awards?" He Xin reminded.

People were talking about it, some supported it and some opposed it.

The success or failure of the literary award is linked to the rise and fall, honor and disgrace, and reputation of "October". Once it fails, it will become a laughing stock.

“We can start with something other than length.”

Fang Yan said: "Instead, we should start with themes and genres, such as spy wars, military affairs, history, and rural areas. Since love is so popular now, we should start with 'love', select a group of works, guide creation, and thus promote the literary trend of love."

"Iwako's suggestion is good!"

"No matter how many romance novels other newspapers publish, we are the ones who will select them in the end. It is like we are borrowing their power to make October the main battlefield of romance novels."

“Yes, the October Literature Prize has become a weather vane.”

"........."

Once Tian Zengxiang and his colleagues were given some pointers, their minds were opened up.

Zhang Shouren agreed: "This literary award can be used not only as a weather vane, but also to guide trends, promote publications, and gather authors. If it is successful, October will have a great impact on the country."

Lu Yuanchi was quite satisfied. "Moreover, October was a pioneer and provided a model and reference for the establishment of other literary journal awards. Whether it succeeds or not, it is a great achievement for the literary world."

"In terms of timing, it would be best if the announcement could be made in October."

Fangyan suggested that the first October Literature Award should officially announce the winning works at the end of February 1982, which was the end of the year.

As soon as these words were spoken, they instantly sparked discussion among everyone.

Fang Yan narrowed his eyes when he saw this scene.

Now it is a love story. In the future, we can have a suspense novel award or a science fiction novel award to give it a legitimate reputation like love novels.

Nowadays, suspense, science fiction and other themes are still a wasteland in the Chinese literary world, and we need pioneers one after another.

"Xiao Fang is a young man after all, he has a quick mind and many ideas."

Lu Yuanchi couldn't help but praise him a few more times.

Zhang Shouren, Tian Zengxiang and others all agreed that he was so young, yet he had such abilities. What would he be able to do in a few years?

"Hey, I won!"

Fangyan didn't control the points this time and killed the enemy with ease.

"You are so good, Xiao Fang." Lu Yuanchi didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I just praised you, and you, a young man, are bullying us old comrades like this?"

…………

The editorial department discussed the plan and selection criteria of the October Literature Award for an entire afternoon, and gradually an outline was taken of it.

As the sun sets, Fangyan rides his bike back to Nanluoguxiang.

He saw the postman delivering letters door to door, and immediately recognized Master Hu, who often sent him remittance slips.

"Teacher Fang!"

Master Hu also noticed him and took out a letter from the mail bag: "I was just about to send it to you. This is your letter."

Fang Yan took a quick look and saw that the address was from Yenching University. He did not open it and read it immediately, but instead thought of Lu Yao's reminder.

So he took out a cigarette and handed it to her, and we chatted as we walked.

"Don't mention it. Postmen have so many troubles."

Master Hu smiled bitterly: "Don't talk about others, just talk about me."

The dialect ignited his fire and he listened patiently.

Master Hu was heard sighing. His son Xiao Hu failed the exam again this year, and he was not going to support him in taking the exam for the third time. He wanted him to take over his job, follow in his father's footsteps, and become a postman so that he could retire.

Nowadays, being a postman not only has a stable job, but also a golden job. The post office will be equipped with Phoenix brand bicycles, which is quite decent.

"This is a good thing."

"Yes, Teacher Fang, you think so too, right? But this little bastard actually looks down on it."

"This is why?"

"He complained that being a postman was hard and tiring, working in the wind and rain. He also complained that I had been doing this job for most of my life but had not received any promotion or even a letter of praise. Just look at his mentality."

"Master Hu, don't be too angry."

Fangyan said a few words of advice, "He is just a child."

"Yes, children are ignorant. How can they write letters of praise to themselves? Aren't they ashamed?" said Master Hu. "Even if we have to give letters of praise, they should be given to the postmen in the rural post offices first. They deserve this honor more."

"A country post office?"

The dialect gave me a vague inspiration.

"Don't think that I am a postman working in the wind and rain. It's very hard, but at least I work in a big city. My comrade-in-arms works as a postman in the countryside. It's much harder and more tiring for him."

Master Hu was smoking and chattering.

At that time, there were few telephones in the countryside, and it was even more impossible to have internet access in the village. Communication with the outside world basically relied on letters, and sometimes a letter had to wait for more than ten days. The rural postman became a bridge between relatives and friends in the mountains and outside the mountains, and in and outside the village.

The bag is filled with envelopes, and also filled with people's full expectations.

"The better ones had donkeys, while the worse ones just had to rely on their feet. It was very hard work, carrying parcels, running through mountains and rivers for years. It took four or five days to make a mail trip, and they often didn't see their wives and children. They could walk like this for decades."

Master Hu exhaled a puff of smoke and said, "Compared with my comrades, compared with them, I don't even have the face to ask for a letter of commendation."

"It's all worth it. You all deserve it."

Fangyan said: "We are all serving the people."

Master Hu smiled and said, "That's right. You have a high level of consciousness, unlike that bastard in my family, whose ideological consciousness is too low."

"He will gradually understand your painstaking efforts."

Fangyan handed over another cigarette.

"I hope so. I hope so."

Master Hu put the cigarette next to his ear and said, "I can't smoke anymore. It's getting late. I have to continue delivering mail. Thank you for the cigarette and thank you for listening to me talk so much."

"It should be me who thanks you."

Fang Yan said, "Thank you for telling me so many good stories. I wonder if you would be willing to lend me these stories about you and your comrades so that I can write them into a novel?"

"Teacher Fang, are you going to write about our postman?!"

Master Hu has also heard about the postal and telecommunications system looking for professional writers.

Fangyan smiled and nodded, already having the answer in his mind.

"That's great. I've never read a novel about us postmen. If you want to use it, feel free to use it."

Master Hu asked if he could have a sample copy when the issue came out, so that he could give it to his son to read and learn from.

"of course can!"

Fangyan agreed readily.

Master Hu thanked him repeatedly and waved goodbye.

Fangyan looked at his receding figure. He was thin, with a hunched back and slumped shoulders, but in the setting sun, he looked like a mountain.

He walked into the house thoughtfully, saw Fang Yuanchao's portrait on the wall, and thought back to his past life, and sighed softly:

Father's love is like a mountain!
(End of this chapter)