This year, I rarely feel that my writing ability has improved somewhat. There are two areas of progress! One is emotionally, and finally began to directly describe the changes in feelings, which was in the second half of last year. Before, I would only describe fait accomplis. Love is love, hate is hate, and the process of their creation and change has not been figured out. In the memory uploaded, I described "epiphany" for the first time, writing about how the emotions of a life can be completely transformed in a short period of time, which is really a thrilling attempt, and I am very relieved after writing.

Another layer of progress is in the description, in terms of severity, I am more sure - although the reader may feel that the writing is dry now, and there is no flesh and skin, but it is indeed the state I yearn for. At the end of last year, when I wrote about my heart, it took me a lot of determination to delete a favorite description, and now I can barely bother with it, and I have touched a certain guideline. Action is close-up, and adjectives are comparable to close-ups. To me, the description is like an edge on a snowflake, a flash of light in the rolling river, which should not be noticed, and when the reader's eyes look at it, it already needs your attention.

It's really hard to stay apathetic. Ah, it's so hard. I spent so much time admonishing myself to withdraw from the story, but when the attitude became so cold and the feelings were so calm, it was as if things had gone beyond my expectations. I feel like I've stripped away my preference for characters and finally been able to coldly (dramatically!) Treat them, but the joy that shaped their destiny is also gone from me. When their life and death don't affect me, writing is particularly boring. Since last year, I have been writing according to a definite outline of paragraphs, dragging the words I need from the void, filling in the sentences on the skeleton with willpower, and the plan of ten hours of work has hardly changed, as if it were cross-stitch according to the map.

- But it also has its advantages, like my own reading comprehension answers, I know what I want to pursue in each paragraph, and I can be clear about my goals without wasting energy...... I haven't figured it out yet.

The article is always not fluent enough, and fluency is really a very abstract thing. I used to aim for catchy and even rhyming passages, but no matter how smooth the passage reads, it seems to stumble after a few years. It's a difference in perspective. When time passes, you'll realize that it's actually ridiculous to make every sentence rhyme. Alas, last year, when I read Hansong for 15 years, I felt so awkward that it was hard to look at it directly. Recently, I've felt less contrived when I'm writing, but I'm still feeling clumsy.

There were also a lot of problems with the transitions, which only started to bother me after I started filming, and I started to imagine how the images between the chapters would connect, and I was worried about the discord caused by the different flow speeds. In the process of trying to be original, I also realized that it is really difficult to elicit the world view and character design - in short, there are still many things that I can't do. As I wrote, I found something uncontrollable myself, as if I had witnessed the tip of a pen of nothingness dotting the borders of the kingdom on paper. I don't know that I have the skills, and the shame is very obvious. But it's a wonderful experience, and if you're not touching new territory, how can you discover something unfamiliar? The more you can't write, the more you should be brave enough to try. I wanted to depict war, open up the universe, manipulate twelve people with different temperaments in one chapter. In the face of these ambitions, I realized that I was still very young and realized that I could not succeed in one go. Alas, you must work hard to write down before you have a chance to discover your clumsiness.

What a beautiful world and how wonderful a story it is.

I genuinely want to try to write more.

Life is too short to work hard.

Alas, there was not enough dinner to eat, a night hungry and unable to sleep.