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最早我想写小说。十年前在山师北院读大一,周六晚上,别人去小广场看电影,我就揣了一沓稿纸,随便找个陌生的自习室,准备把这些空白的纸页涂满文字。然而每次都失败。有时候找不到故事,找到故事了义找不到结构,找到结构了又找不到语言。电影中的欢笑从广场传遍整个校园,实在写不下去了我就到小广场,躲在幕布后面,一个人孤零零地盯着反面的屏幕发呆,心情坏到极点。多数时候,我在稿纸的第一贞涂上一些分行的文字,算是给自己交差。
The earliest I want to write a novel. Ten years ago, when I was a freshman in the Northern School of the Mountain Master, on Saturday night, when someone went to the small square to watch a movie, I hid a pile of manuscript paper and found a strange study room ready to paint these blank sheets of paper. However, every time failed. Sometimes can not find the story, find the story meaning can not find the structure, find the structure and can not find the language. The film’s laughter spread throughout the campus from the square, it really can not write I went to the small square, hiding behind the curtain, a solitary staring at the opposite side of the screen in a daze, the mood is extremely bad. Most of the time, I painted the text of some branches in the first chapter of the manuscript, be regarded as cross to myself.