Ailing

In 2013, my mother's first book "Troubled Times, Poor Times" was published. My mother suddenly asked, "Teacher Zhang, how many books have you published?" ”

"Three."

She was very disdainful: "After writing for so many years, only three books have been published, wow?" I have a book a year, so won't it catch you up soon? ”

In 2015, when my mother's third book came out, she asked, "This time I caught up with you, right?" ”

I said, "Why, you've already surpassed me." ”

Originally, I just wanted to coax my mother to play, but I accidentally played big.

In November 2013, a reporter from the Beijing News called for a telephone interview, and I was about to attend class, so I gave the reporter's home phone number. A few days later, when I saw the electronic version of the newspaper, the headline startled me: Jiang Shumei: As long as you live, you will publish a book a year.

I asked my mother, "Is this what you said?" ”

"That's what I said, what's wrong?"

"One book a year, professional writers don't necessarily do it."

"The book is too thick for no one to read, and if you write 100,000 words a year, isn't that light?"

My own story was almost written, and my mother said to me, "It's a bit of a big blow-" Before I could laugh, she was already confident, "It's okay, I'll go outside to load the goods." ”

She knows each other well, she can find something to talk to anyone, she enters a hot chat in a minute, and after writing, this becomes an interview ability, and she gets a lot of good goods in the community, on the roadside and on the train. As long as she heard that there were people who loved to tell stories, she immediately went with her eyes lit up, and so far.

My mother often told me about Baishitun, which was her birthplace, a particularly typical ancient village in the land of southwest Lu: a village has three surnames, living in fragments, each family has its own family head, exercising the right to manage, and many tragicomedies have been staged in the village in the era of chaos and poverty. I asked her to write one by one, one by one.

The story in my memory is almost written, I specially accompanied my mother back to Shandong Juye, made a special trip to the goods, and harvested a lot, with the second book "Bitter Cauliflower, Sugarcane Sprouts".

Since then, we have returned to our hometown every year to load the goods, sometimes several times a year. During the holidays, we also went to the nearby villages of Suihua and stayed at relatives' houses to load goods.

In the past two years, the content of the mother's goods is relatively concentrated, part of which is folk legends and legends, and part of which is family history. "Legends and legends, the more they spread", she occasionally interprets folk tales, and she completes the incomplete. Writing a family history is different, and I often print out a hard copy for her to be checked by the storyteller. Every ups and downs of family history may be a novelist's long story, and when she writes it, it is three or two thousand words, and she doesn't want bad goods, but only tells the most wonderful stories of this family. After the publication of the folk tale collection "The Woman with a Long Neck", it won the Special Award for Good Books in Chinese, and the fourth book "My Man" will be printed soon.

We also have conflicts.

I told my mother, "You don't want to write about things after 1970." ”

"Why?"

"You can't write about me now, and you can't write about others, so you tell old stories."

On one occasion she wrote about a homicide in 1980 in which the victim was a neighbor in my front yard, and the body surfaced a few days after her disappearance. The case was soon solved, and it turned out that he happened to see a theft gang sharing the spoils, so he was killed. His killer was a member of a theft ring and his own brother. The mother worked as a temporary worker with the victim, knew the ins and outs of the case, and told it vividly.

I read the manuscript and put it aside, and told her clearly, "I won't record this for you." ”

"Why?"

"In the past, there was no TV, Internet and mobile phones, and people rarely heard of this kind of thing, and they would talk about it for a long time after dinner. Now this kind of thing is reported all day long, and there are more bizarre cases than this. ”

The mother was skeptical and took back the baby she had written.

A few days later, Chen Chen, a writer and expert in oral history, went to his home to interview the Beijing Youth Daily. During the interview, my mother talked about it: "I feel that the writing is very good, but my daughter will not record it." ”

The freehand teacher read the manuscript and said to his mother: "This is really well written, I don't need to record it, you old man should keep it." ”

Once, when I read the word "maybe" in my mother's manuscript, I asked, "Do you know what 'maybe' means?" ”

"Yes, probably, probably."

"Then I'll replace it with 'probably' for you, don't use this word in the future, I didn't know that there is such a word until I was in the fourth or fifth grade of elementary school."

The mother was not convinced: "I've been writing for two years, and I still read books when I have nothing to do, so why am I a second-grade student of primary school, right?" Don't you want to use a word? ”

"No, I can't. You've always told stories in the vernacular, and that's your style as well. Suddenly a crepe word popped up, awkward. ”

She said, "Teacher, I see." ”

After the third book was delivered, the editor told me that he was going to illustrate it, and I couldn't think of a better painter.

I said, "When my mother was younger, she used to cut paper. ”

The editor said, "Let Grandma Jiang try it." ”

At that time, my mother had already bought back the colored pencils, and I scribbled when I was fine. I asked her to continue practicing, trying to draw the snakes, stones, and cotton carts mentioned in the story.

She was very discouraged after painting all afternoon: "What doesn't painting look like, I don't paint anymore!" ”

"You've just started painting, and if you paint anything like something, those painters will starve to death. Anyway, it's inconvenient to slip on the goods on the cold road, so you can practice slowly. ”

She was anxious: "No! You call the editor right away, he likes to draw whoever he likes, I don't paint! I'm in a hurry, what am I trying to do? ”

I was also a little angry: "Okay! I'll send an email right away. ”

I didn't send the email after it was written, what if she changes her mind?

As soon as I entered the door the next morning, she said, "I'd better learn to paint. ”

I deliberately asked, "So what did you say yesterday?" ”

"Teacher Zhang, I was wrong."

Although the editor decided to publish the text version first, and then the illustrations later, the various brushes became my mother's new toys.

In 1985, Ai Ling took a group photo of her mother and daughter when she was admitted to university. This year, Jiang Shumei was 48 years old and Ai Ling was 18 years old.

In 2016, a group photo of the writer's mother and daughter.

My mother's residence is across the road from the Suihua College where I teach, and I have to go there every day, and I leave very late, so I don't go home because I'm too busy. I said to my mother, "This is the writer's studio. ”

Mother's words are like porcelain dug out of the dirt, and I have to wipe the dust off it, but I have to be careful. My principle is to only change the sick sentence and remove the repetitive content.

At first, I used a red pen to correct it, but later I found that there was another shortcut, and I read the sick sentence to her: "There is something wrong with this sentence, do you hear it?" ”

Sometimes she can hear it, and I have to tell her what is wrong with what she can't. I asked her to say it again, and I said it again, and I typed it according to the dictation that had no language problems.

Writing, publishing books, and reporting in the media gave my mother unprecedented happiness and confidence, but also gave me blows and pressure.

Before becoming famous, her identity was introduced as "Teacher Zhang's mother"; After becoming famous, my identity introduction became "Jiang Shumei's daughter". That's all.

From time to time, the Motie Book Company informed me of the printing information, and I naturally had to inform her. She asked, "How many times have you reprinted your three books?" ”

"I haven't printed a single one."

The mother turned her head sideways and asked: "They all say that you write well, why don't you print it if you write well?" ”

Pointing to the sore spot, I was particularly hit, but I have to admit: "It's still not good, and if it's good, it's printed." "If she wasn't my mother, I would be jealous of her.

After learning from the pain, I examined my own works with my mother's works as a reference, and I found a problem: her words did not have a didactic and literary tone, and I always wanted to explain a truth; Her works come from the countryside, and my works are more self-conscious and childish.

Realizing the problem, I began to circumvent the tone and reasoning, and also began to stock goods. In the past, when I went on business trips to other places, I always looked at the scenery and friends. Now take the time to meet with students individually, see where they work and live, listen to their joys and sorrows, help as much as you can, and write a group of student stories. My lover is the first reader of my work, and he said, "I was really moved by your previous work. ”

My mother still got up early in the morning, hugged the sofa pillow cushion and wrote on waste paper, and did not let go of the back of various instructions and waste paper shells, and became part of the manuscript. In addition to cooking, doing laundry, tidying up the room, and doing sit-ups, she also takes her neighbors to do geriatric rejuvenation exercises.

We're both busy, and sometimes we crash. If it was a teaching matter, she would make way for me, saying that nothing was as big as the students' business; If it's writing, I often make way for her, and I'm still young compared to my mother and the people who provide her with supplies.

In the blink of an eye, Dad has been away from us for 20 years. If I can connect to that world, I want to tell him: my mother is very good, getting better and better, not only becoming a writer, but also a painter.