Writing is my one-man home, Neverland. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I remember the first time I rashly picked up a pen to write was when I was in the second year of junior high school. At that time, classical travel was just emerging, and a bunch of excellent works emerged. Some of them gradually became less attractive to me as I got older, such as Vivibear, who has a gorgeous style, or Dream Sansheng, who has a light-hearted plot, and some of them still continue to give me "nourishment". One of the books by Vivi that touched me very deeply was the first novel in which my favorite male protagonist didn't get a happy ending ("A Journey in Search of a Past Life"). After reading it, I felt depressed and distressed for him for a long time, and resolutely decided to let him have a happy ending in his own pen.

At that time, my so-called writing could only be regarded as "graffiti", and under the teacher's nose, I passed a small A5 book with my girlfriend, weaving dreams that only each other knew. In those days when I only knew how to immerse myself in hard reading, I could only feel that I was hiding in a transparent bubble, far from the pressure of scores and the future (my favorite sentence in the third year of junior high school is: "I really want to travel through any dynasty")

At that time, I basically bought a copy of the time-traveling drama, and after reading it, it was like having a spring and autumn dream, and in order to continue the afterglow of the dream, I also secretly wrote my own YY extra. Maybe it's because of my personality, I developed the bad habit of only reading historical facts or historical novels, and I really can't be interested in the air, and even if I finish reading, I can't remember much. And for those well-known figures in history, because of the novel, I always feel very kind, so through the interest of crossing, I also like to read history and poetry, and my mind is full of ancient poetry every day, like an ancient man dressed in the coat of modern people.

Perhaps, it was at that time that a seed called "writing" was planted in my heart.

Later, the scope of my reading gradually broadened, and I watched a lot of TV dramas at the same time, and my dreams were not only limited to ancient sayings, but became more and more diverse. In that folder called "Paper Time", there are countless unfinished stories.

"Drunken Dream Three Lives" is those unforgettable crossings, one day I will have to go through them with the tip of my pen one by one, to see what my own Lanling King, Changmen Fu, and Trojan Horse look like;

"Wild Goose Crossing the Cold Pool" is full of imagination about Japanese comics and video games, such as the same people who wrote down casually after reading the comics (I don't shy away from being a girl who grew up watching Conan, and now I'm still persistently chasing a single book), and like the classic PSP game Final Fantasy Doujin that I've been obsessed with for a long time (the plot in the classic can still make me cry until now);

"Forgotten City" is a testament to my love for vampire themes and Norse mythology, and there was a time in high school when the original Twilight books were all the rage, and I even set a good-looking boy I often met in the cafeteria as Edward in my diary, and started the story on it;

"Water Moon Mirror Flower" has kept many of my imitations, from Jin Yong's Legend of the Condor Heroes, Gu Long's peerless double pride, to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter (I'm still rereading it!). Although the writing is a little funny, it is a testimony of my toddler;

And "The Years Are Quiet" retains the modern romance novels that I have tested the waters after my style has slowly matured in recent years, and maybe the next book will be one of them.

These documents, ranging from nearly 100,000 words of endless tomes (LordoftheRings fandom) to whimsical short stories (ghost stories about being scratched by cats and turning into cat people), are all unfilled sinkholes, my colorful but incomparably fleeting dreams. They have accompanied me through those days when the emotional world was slightly lacking and the real life was full of stress.

Nearly ten years have passed, but my original intention about writing has not changed. I want to finish writing a story hidden in my heart, and I want to use my own words to bring some touch to people I have never met.

Now I am facing a crossroads in my life, and it is at such a moment that I see more and more clearly what I want. On December 13, 2015, this article knocked on the door of the Internet for the first time, when its maiden name was still called Twin Moons, and later, because of this or that kind of karma, it had what it is today.

It's just that when I picked up the pen again, I didn't think that what I opened was such a story, it had no formed skeleton, no eye-catching coat, and it was not even a historical fact crossing of its own "fortune", but a classical overhead (there should be a self-slapping sound TAT here). It was also with a breath of injustice in my heart that I ventured all the way here, there were tosses and turns, helplessness, twists and turns, but more than that, it was the countless small blessings that writing brought me. It made me better, and it also made me believe that I can really break the infatuation of the year with a single stroke.

For today's online texts, I have actually slowly degenerated into an old antique that I don't know anything about, but I stick to the old ways. I was deeply influenced by the dramas and published articles of the past, and I didn't read the popular books on the market today for a long time, but read and re-read the works I liked, so I fell deeper and deeper into the quagmire of the past. A few days ago, I just read it for the fourth time, and I cried a handful of snot and tears for Ruoxi and the fourth master. But now many of the novels serialized on the list are difficult to impress my coarser and thicker nerves and more and more critical tastes. Those classics that are regarded as the norms in my heart are becoming more and more difficult to surpass.

I once wanted to write "Zi Ge Ji" as a huge production, thinking that I could pay tribute to the love of my heart "Beautiful Country". But only by really writing down little by little, can we truly understand that the so-called classics of those classics, the author's profound heritage and good intentions are not a day's work. Secretly weighed himself, he couldn't help the world at the same time, so he retreated and sought the second, and it was also a blessing to be able to be alone.

In my spare time, I also look around at some of the works of fellow newcomers. Many of them amazed me and I have been watching them silently. And in the process of Pinwen, I also met a few rare acquaintances. They let me know that in the world of words, there is really a sympathy for neighbors.

The road to writing is long and difficult. The road in every story turns back and forth, and it is just a dream of my Nanke. I wrote them down, and you read this with curiosity, smiled slightly, and had the same heart, and at that moment, you got a glimpse of the eternal homeland in my heart. And I've been here all along, opening my heart and waiting for you to come.

He was a slow returnee for Moshang, and fortunately passers-by listened to it. The absurd hearer laughed, and the flute did not change his mind.