四十年前我开始写作,纯粹是出于爱好,那时没有稿费,能发表出来,变成铅字,就是一种光荣,爆炸式的兴奋会延至几天,甚至一月。记得每次来了冲动,要构思了,便茶饭不香,夜里不睡,焦躁如小母鸡初次下蛋,下出来了,蛋皮上还沾着血,就大声叫唤。当写作了好多年后,写到了一定程度,才开始有了责任,自觉到我应该是有使命的。我当然还是我, When I started writing forty years ago, I was purely out of hobby. At that time, I did not have any royalties to publish it. It was a glorious explosion of excitement that could be extended to days or even January. I remember every time I came to impulse, to conceive, then tea is not fragrant, not sleep at night, anxious, such as hen laying eggs, came out under the egg skin stained with blood, shouting. When I wrote for many years and wrote a certain degree, I started to take responsibility and realized I should have a mission. Of course I am me