It took half a year to finally complete a book, named "Yang Shuo". At the beginning of writing the manuscript, I was immersed in thinking about how to write, and I went through the books I had read in my mind. Finally, "One Hundred Years of Solitude" and "The Female Grass" jumped out to me, so I learned to describe them tremblingly and on thin ice. The magical realism style and the writing method of Gassugayi have always been my favorite way of writing novels. Therefore, in the name of studying late, I paid homage to my predecessors, just to not be scorned. Of course, I also ask readers to bear with me. My writing skills are far different from those of the two great writers Marquez and Yan Geling. I try my best with the enthusiasm of "moss flowers are as small as rice, and they also imitate the blooming of peonies." I'm not making excuses for myself. I'm no longer confused, and I do have some of the habits of the "nine-character mantra" that Feng Tang admired: no rush, no fear, no shame.
This long story narrates the emotional entanglement between a lame woman and the love of her heart, her husband, and her lover for most of her life. It takes place from the late 1960s to the early 1990s. This story is somewhat meaningful. From the protagonist's rough and troubled life for most of his life, we can see the impact of the social environment on people, personal powerlessness, the harm of ignorance, and the coercion of desire, which triggered some thoughts about being a human being. No matter how readers think about it, I have cried countless times while writing. As one of the small ordinary people, I can sympathize with it. Perhaps, writing with true feelings can be worth reading.
Intention: Ignorance makes people blind, knowledge requires sincerity