One is "Yes, the beginning of the text is relatively concise, without redundancy, and the writing skills are not bad", and the other is "the story enters the main line a little procrastinately, and the protagonist's character is not clear".
The little author sucked the noodles, went back and looked at his own update, and thought this comment was really good.
It is not simply abstract concepts such as "cool" or "unhappy", but it actually points out the problem with his writing.
He wrote a three-line reply very sincerely, thanking him for his guidance.
The readers who gave their opinions over there seemed to be online too, replying: "Go to sleep. I'll watch it later."
The little writer went to bed with gratitude.
As a result, when I woke up, the comment area was torn up.
There are a few idle and boring regular trolls, probably because the author has a good-natured personality, he is always gentle and not angry, just like the protagonist of the soft dough in the book, he always likes to come over and stab him in a vest. .
Today, one of them woke up and came to the comment area to complete a routine task, and saw a person who read the article seriously and gave a lot of positive IDs, and immediately surrounded him: "Yo, this is a group of relatives and friends, or buy it? comments."
The reader replied: "Can't sleep, come and read the text."
The sprayer said: "Dude, there's nothing to see, so let's go. You have said so much, and the author will not change it. The change is also blind and barren."
Readers say: "I love the story, he wrote it well."
The spray was sour: "Hey, it really is a group of relatives and friends."
Readers say: "Objectively, better written than you."
The sprayer shuddered and exploded with anger: "What nonsense are you talking about with your eyes open? Which eye did you see me writing?!"
The reader is quite organized: "You trumpet has only voted for one article. Your trumpet has the same IP address as that article. That article is at the same time as this article. I advise you to write carefully, otherwise There will be no rankings.”
The troll didn't care: "You TM thought you were an editor, so you just opened your mouth. I also said you were the author's trumpet."
No reply below.
The little writer was a little angry when he saw it, and just wanted to go up and say a few words for the enthusiastic reader, the head of the editor, the rough cigarette smoking man, flashed in his friend column.
The editor said: "Don't listen to them."
The editor added: "It's my fault, I shouldn't have given you the previous advice. According to your idea, change to a website with a better atmosphere, improve the details, and your grades will be better."
The little author froze in front of the computer.
Later, after careful consideration, he gave up the article that had been seriously deviated and moved to another website.
When he came up with the pseudonym, he thought of the cigarette in the mouth of the rough big man, so he tapped "a light cigarette" on it.
Afterwards, he conferred God on one book, and the next two books were also quite good.
With money in hand, he went to knock on the editor.
Since the two were identified as a group of relatives and friends by Kongkou, they often chatted together and learned a lot about each other, and they really mixed into half a group of relatives and friends.
For example, two people are in the same city, they both love supper, and they are both night owls.
He always responded to the little author's information in seconds: "What?"
The author said, "Are you free, please eat meat."
Regarding the meeting, the author recorded it in detail in his diary.
That man is not rough at all, he is only a few months older than the younger author, he is very gentle and handsome, wears a pair of black-rimmed glasses, often writes some prose in magazines, and has money at home, so he can do whatever he wants to do. .
A year before he met the little author, he was still selling insurance.
Now he has just obtained the kindergarten teacher certificate, and is about to quit his editorial job and go to kindergarten to be a kindergarten teacher.
The author envied him very much and said, "It's really good."
He has polio and has been in a wheelchair since shortly after birth. All he has been able to travel independently over the years is his own kitchen, computer and bedroom.
He yearns for the vast world that editors can see.
The editor looked at his wheelchair and said, "You live alone now?"
Little author: "Yeah."
His father died early, and his mother remarried and went abroad.
The editor said: "It's a coincidence. My community has newly installed disabled access, and every building has it."
The little author's eyes brightened: "Well, that's great."
The editor looked into his eyes: "Move here."
Little author: "… huh?"
The editor said: "There is a very nice shop near my house that sells plum cakes."
The little author looked at him dumbfounded, his heart beating fast, but he didn't quite understand what he meant.
The editor said: "When you move in, I can buy it for you every day."
In the diary of the little author, there is a food diary, which is devoted to plum blossom cakes, and it can be seen that Chi Xiaochi has a strong appetite at night.
So he bought it the next day.
He arrived at the shop mentioned in the little writer's food diary.
The boss skillfully poured the prepared glutinous rice flour liquid into a special container, and then poured the already boiled semi-fluid hot bean paste, hot sesame and hot purple potato into it.
Chi Xiaochi started and waited in the cold wind.
After a while, a young man wearing black-rimmed glasses stopped the car at the entrance of this small shop: "Madam, come two, the old style."
This is obviously a regular customer. The proprietress responded twice, quickly took the two bean paste out of the stove, put them in a paper bag, and handed them to him.
The young man quickly got back into the car. There was another person in the co-pilot. He leaned over and took the paper bag.
Chi Xiaochi heard the young man say, "The stuffing is hot, cook it first, just enough to eat it when you get home."
Chi Xiaochi turned back, looked at the car that was riding Juechen, and thought, so coincidentally, could it be them.
Maybe, maybe not.
He remembered that he had seen the audio of the online interview of the little author on the Internet yesterday. In the free interview session, some readers also asked about "The Merman Xianjun".
The reader asked: "Dan Yan, are you really not going to write that "Xianjun"?"
The little author's voice was gentle: "Well, don't write it for others to read. I'll leave it on the hard drive and rewrite it again. ... Write it for him."
The reader is a little regretful: "Will there be a happy ending between the merman and the snake king?"
"They will," said the little author. "They are separate souls. Even without me, they will have a good ending."
Chi Xiaochi was thinking when suddenly, there was a slight vibration from his coat pocket.
Chi Xiaochi picked up the phone, looked at the number on it for a while, and brought it to his ear.
There is Lou Ying's voice: "Hello?"
Chi Xiaochi was happy.
He remembered that when he was still 061, he told himself that in a non-mission environment, when he arrived in a certain world, he would be blocked from all functions, and only retain the most basic sensory abilities, and he could not even speak.
So Lou Ying, who was left at home, had to make a phone call if he wanted to find him.
Lou Ying asked him, "Is it cold?"
When Lou Ying was not in front of him, Chi Xiaochi was less tense: "If you're not here, my sweet little autumn pants are gone."
Lou Ying laughed.
He asked, "When will you be back? I'll check the time. The dumplings are almost ready to go out."
Chi Xiaochi covered the microphone and asked the boss, "How long will it take?"
The boss smiled and said: "It's fast, it's fast, it's only six or seven minutes. The purple sweet potato stuffing is cooked slowly."
Chi Xiaochi said to the other end of the phone, "Get off, let's get off. If you don't say anything, hang up. I didn't look carefully before I came out. My phone is about to run out of gas."
Lou Ying couldn't help laughing: "Well, good."
Chi Xiaochi bought a furnace and a half, and planned to go back and let Lou Ying distribute it to those systems.
He picked out a plum cake filled with purple sweet potatoes and took a bite.
The egg rolls on the outer layer were baked to a crisp and golden brown, which happened to be Chi Xiaochi’s favorite food. The soft and glutinous plum-shaped rice cake was bitten open, and the liquid purple sweet potato that was boiled into juice overflowed slightly. It was indeed very hot. , the hot white air rushed straight to Chi Xiaochi's face.
He took two hot bites and suddenly wanted to go home.
So I called Lou Ying's name in my heart: "Brother Lou, Brother Lou."
The owner of the plum cake was so angry that when he was preparing for the next batch of plum cake, he inadvertently looked up and found that the guest who had just brought away a half-baked plum cake had disappeared in just half a minute.
After hanging up the call with Chi Xiaochi, Lou Ying said to 089 and 023, "I'll go back first and serve Xiaochi dumplings."
He originally wanted to chat with 089, but unfortunately 023 was there, so it was not convenient to say some things.
089 said emotionally: "Go, darling. Your happiness is the greatest hope of your parents."
023 rolled his eyes coldly.
089 innocently said: "I am sincere."
Lou Ying stroked the peace knot still in his jacket pocket: "Well, I know."
089 saw his actions, his expression remained unchanged, his smiling eyes slightly curved.
Well, knowing the usefulness of the peace knot, 80% have used it.
Since you want to use it, you must have encountered some danger.
Judging from his current appearance, he must have transitioned safely, and he may have encountered some good things.
It's just that he is so happy, and the one in the middle of the night may not be happy.
After a few moments, 089 had some conjectures, and the conversation changed, and he said with true emotion and tears: "61, you can protect our daughter-in-law well, you are the ninth generation of our family, and the incense of our old family will continue. , but it's all up to him."
023: "..." What is the old 0 family
Lou Ying's mind moved slightly, knowing what he was reminding himself: "Well, I remember, father."
023: "… "
He felt that he was often out of place for them because he wasn't good enough.