Essays｜The gift of creation, constructing truth from fiction

Author: Penny | Translator: An San

Translator's smuggling

In my elementary school days, I was appointed as a librarian by the head teacher, but I was stuffed in the library of a Chinese primary school in a small Chinese village in the Malay Peninsula (actually two or three classrooms were opened up), and now I think back Up, I really don't have the impression that there are several books in the collection. My position is similar to Land Surveyor-K. There is only one teacher, who seems to be teaching mathematics. He punishes me every day as a librarian who runs errands to deliver documents and clean glass. Maybe it is to punish me for being absent from work with all kinds of excuses?

Wearing a yellow tie is really uncomfortable and ugly. Maybe I accidentally bumped into the official document of the math teacher (library director) and sent it to the principal's office at Beerbelly. She found out that I found the secret in the official document. ...Maybe there is a chance, I want to go to this past event, add fuel to it, and write something that can be realized immediately. The blatant description in that official document may be the starting point that inspired my creation. The headmaster of beer-belly, thin-rimmed glasses, with flamboyant rhetoric (for my age at the time) wrote about sexual instincts and unabashed sexual invitations. This is probably the beginning of literature, right?

But, why did I start creating? I had to find a reason right away, or the story wouldn't unfold. Is it because you can easily write a composition from a young age? Or...because of the nature of people who love to lie at the beginning, the excuses I made up for skipping classes and not doing homework are really outstanding? Or everything about Kafka in his early twenties and the wall that Saudi Arabia built, or because he was keen on long-distance running in middle school, he bought a book that he thought was about running training books, and finally met Haruki Murakami, and by the way, because of him. Read a lot, um...maybe jazz too.

It was the books my parents read, the Tao Te Ching as thick as bricks. After years of reading through these few relics, I discovered for the first time that there were countless dense texts in the books, recording summaries of my father’s notes.

On the first page of the book there is even a self-improvement verse (?)

Three nights of light and five nights of chicken, it is when the man is determined,

And * get out of the law quickly and quickly, and Xishan will regret it later in the future.

(In the end, is it early, or early, or what word, can't complete this shortfall for a long time)

I don't know whose father doesn't want to make a fortune and make a lot of money, what kind of ghost escape method? No wonder I used to move from childcare centres to live with Indians next door for no reason when I was a kid. If there is a chance in the future, I would also like to write about this past event and the subject matter of various kinds of patricide. Especially in this world, I have no father, and I may not inherit the role of my father in the future. This original motivation of pure creative exploration can inspire me to continue on the road of literature.

Perhaps this is the last legacy my father left for me.

Before I turned thirty, it had been nearly 18 months since I started in any industry, and in the creative line of "transferring". For nearly half a year, I was finally able to lick a notebook with 200 pages X 2, a total of 400 pieces, each frame can be neatly drawn in 20 lines, and each line can squeeze about 200 words. In addition, I also bought a thick-bottomed drawing book, each page only wrote the outline and concept of a story, and wrote about 20 pages. The back of the invoice, painted a little, the back of the mask box, also painted a little, every place where I can write, except the wall is not there yet (and I will sooner or later, just like my friend), most of them are left with mine Handwriting, which includes the graffiti wall published by Matters and the Facebook "fan group".

(Facebook sucks, and the minimal use of social media to run this pseudonym and portfolio looks undeniably a failure, and an easy distraction.)

In the past year and a half, I have completed 5 short stories with a length of 10,000 words, 1 story with a length of 30,000 characters, six or seven short stories that started but could not continue, two and a half episodes of local dramas, and one I don’t know when it will be released. I started filming, but I have already finished writing and paid the film script, I wrote a few translations and copywriting, I helped the elderly take delivery orders, I helped my roommates make Madeleine and ICE WHITE, I helped people water flowers, look at water, and look at water is to look at water, Take the wind to see if anyone is coming.

Shhh, there are some, there are people who are really coming over, the old literary police are coming, they are coming to arrest you, be careful.

Not enough orthodox, not enough MCA, not enough connotation, not enough literature, not enough local care, not enough fame, not enough separation, not enough inquiries Not enough filters, not enough titles, not enough messages for each other, not enough top hats

When engaged in literary creation, it is best not to get too close to this circle. People in this circle are not very pure, and they have thought so from the beginning.

(Of course it is shameless to say that)

Recently, when I was reading the works of a MCA writer in his early twenties, I found the architectural form that I had been ambitious to explore. It turned out that he had already played with it. Ye Who is also amazing. After reading it, I even think it is better than Murakami's early works. I would also like to thank another senior for his suggestion: some works might as well be put away for a period of time, or forever, and be your only reader.

In terms of literary "professional", being able to read these works or start some realistic dialogues is still grateful to a creator, just like a professional person giving you professional affirmation, no matter from From any point of view, even if the other party seems to be relying on the old and selling the old, and does not understand the gesture of pretending to understand, it is better to express gratitude for this.

(Literary classics and all kinds of art classics left in history, young people not only understand the past, but also must understand the present, in addition to understanding, must also find ways to propose new possibilities and routes; in contrast , the work of the elderly is relatively easier, just ridicule the young writers as "wenqing".)

There is a lot of joy in creative writing. Before that, I had not read so many writers’ works, and I didn’t know much about MCA literature. This lack of understanding, on the way to writing later, after reading some discussions, I felt timid. Yes, I still firmly believe that even if I don’t read or read MCA literature, it will not prevent me or anyone from engaging in literary creation. Like the people I met later, who were younger than me, like people who jumped out of my fictional stories.

We exchanged novels to read and tried to construct and discuss our thoughts seriously. He read mine and I read his. Or, what did she look at, and what did he look at the other? Who introduced me to what Malay writer and why is this writer important? What is the point of view? So-and-so stuffed another book of English writers who didn't have a Chinese version, some people sat down with me to talk about Monet's light or Van Gogh's left ear, some people played Stoner Doom type heavy metal music; some people said they were not horses Some people say they don’t like Chinese; some people are on their way to publish a novel; some people interrupt their performances; Arrested and imprisoned for more than four months; some drank, some fled the capital, some fell into debt, some fell in love with a friend's woman, some was dealing drugs, some fake marriage went to New York to be a Bike Messenger, some went to New York After Zeeland returned to China, he opened a coffee shop......

Also, I know some people, and I don't even know what the other person looks like. Some self-consistent concepts have been formed on the cloud, and some people have also gotten together to discuss literature and creation. There are some writing goals, and some are similar to the formation of a long-distance running circle. This to me is the joy of literature, a near redemptive solution to a natural form of socialization.

More importantly, through writing, I vaguely feel that if life is like this, writing should be firmly grasped. As mentioned earlier, when that young friend suddenly appeared in front of me one day, because of him, I believed that my creations could still reflect reality, to exaggerate, or even advance reality to the future.

What's not written doesn't mean He's not there. With just a little more time, careful observation and capture, perhaps more highlights of life, such as those I have met, can be distilled.

Anyway, this is what I want to say, please continue to tolerate the jump in my connection a little bit, may it be regarded as a story and a post modern writing style?

So ah, what the fuck China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, Philippines, Vietnam, Thailand, Madagascar, Warsaw, Chinese, Chinese literature.

What I want to tell below is a true story that happened on the Malay Peninsula. I can reveal a little bit about the background of the writer. The person who wrote this story is a Malay, and the language he writes the novel and exchanges with us every day is English.

Penny, you can call him that.

I met him at a coffee shop called Atom, near the upper city of Damansara, where he used to be a barista, and I was a regular there.

"Hey, wait a minute, editors and ladies, I know what you're going to say, ah...he's a barista who writes novels, this is a typical literary character."

It's really nerve-racking. Penny's life and the novels he wrote are not designed to serve and irrigate your barren imaginations. Please put it aside.

In fact, it was an experiment in literary exchange with Penney. I translate his work into Chinese and he translates mine into Malay. Then, they each submitted their manuscripts under new pseudonyms. I don't know what will be left in the end, but the process of mutual slaps is probably to delete all troublesome classifications before literature.

The sinicization of Penny's works has almost ended.

"Hey, wait a minute, editors and ladies, I know what you're going to say, ah... Malays read Chinese and do translations, it seems weird, wouldn't it be too far-fetched? "

It was really nerve-racking. Penny went to an independent high school before, and he even got an honors in Chinese, and his Cantonese was better than me. I have saved his videos. Every time I watch it, I laugh once. He likes to speak Cantonese the most.

": What's the matter, throwing thunder and leaking mother."