I collapsed, my mind was a mess, and it was all squeezed out words for the past few days, and I didn't know what to say......

I've been writing books for more than a month, and I've experienced a lot, and every day I feel restless because of a few collections, and I come back from injections when I have a high fever and continue to write.

I have no talent, just an ordinary person, lonely every day, from junior high school into the online literature pit, never returned, lost a lot, but I still like novels.

I really wanted to write a novel, and I started to write it, there were many obstacles, and there were many gains.

What did I write this book for in the first place, living expenses!

So I chose Infinite Stream, this kind of fire theme, write cool essays, write down all the way, the protagonist's character design has made me can't figure it out myself, pale, and the character creation fails, whether it is the protagonist or the supporting role.

Not to mention the plot, how can there be any plot, there is no brain all the way.

I knew I had too many shortcomings.

These days in bed I have been thinking about why I write books and why I like novels.

Because I saw wonderful stories one after another, because of those dream worlds, the net pit that Douluo Continent entered, covering the sky, the tomb of the gods, and seeking demons...... Too much, too much!

But what am I writing?

I'm not a god, and I don't think highly of myself, I just feel like I'm lost in the process of writing a book.

A recommendation ticket, a collection, a book review, and a reward can make me happy for a long time, I care about these things too much, and I'm writing a book for these.

There are no thick pieces of paper, no empty stories without plots, and even this book has deviated from my original idea.

My mind went blank.

What I want to write, I want to write love and hate, I want to write stories, I want to write books simply, but the reality is skinny, there is no corresponding foundation, there is no corresponding writing, and there is no corresponding realistic conditions, sometimes stuck in description, sometimes stuck in dialogue, sometimes stuck in setting.

The awkward dialogue of Resident Evil, the twisting of Qin Shi Mingyue, the haste of Fengyun, and the powerless plot.

Writing this, I was confused.

What does writing fiction mean to me?

I thought about it carefully, and my first hobby was to be able to read books without sleep or food, and to be able to code words with difficulty.

Later, those successful seniors tempted me, I wanted to write books to earn money, even if I couldn't make a lot of money, a few hundred yuan a month was enough for living expenses.

Now, there is little hope of making money.

Going back to the beginning, I wanted to write stories, not infinite streams, and write other people's stories.

There are too many fantasies in my head, but I can't express them through words.

One more thank you to everyone who has supported me!!

I don't know if I'll continue to write books in the future, I'm just a passerby, I wish you all peace and happiness!!

The book was issued on October 6, and it is until today, November 9.

36 days, thank you for your company!