Xie Qian secretly read her novel?
Xie Qian reading novels… how could a study god read novels!
Writers all face Wen Ying’s current embarrassment, when people close to them read their work, which is why she didn’t want to share her pen name with her parents, it’s fine for readers, they read whatever she writes, but when it’s people close to her, she can’t help feeling constrained.
For a book to be engaging, it needs characters with distinct personalities, otherwise there’s no conflict to drive the plot.
Some characters are positive, others are more negative.
The views of negative characters don’t reflect Wen Ying’s own, but her parents or close friends might not understand this setup.
Wen Ying strongly disliked “writing advice” from those close to her, she’d decide what kind of story to write, she didn’t need others pointing fingers or meddling, demanding she change the story’s direction, learning that Zou Weijun and Xie Qian were following her work, Wen Ying’s cheeks flushed, her scalp tingling.
She hadn’t deliberately hidden her pen name from Xie Qian.
She just never imagined he’d read a youth magazine like Aige!
No doubt, Xie Qian read it for her sake.
He even quietly recommended her novel to Zou Weijun.
Wen Ying’s cheeks burned, her emotions surging.
So her idol was this warm!
Perhaps her gaze was too bright, Xie Qian, under her stare, seemed a bit uneasy.
“Just mentioned it casually.”
If he was too affirmative, the hamster would get cocky.
But if too cold, would it dent her confidence?
Xie Qian chose his words carefully, “I don’t know much about writing, but your novel is good, I can read it.”
For Xie Qian, “can read it” was high praise, in fact, he’d bought Aige from the January 2005 issue to the current April issue, and aside from Wen Ying’s Young Idol, he couldn’t stomach a single other story, long or short.
He couldn’t say other authors wrote poorly, they just didn’t suit his taste.
What were those stories about… a quick glance showed their protagonists, neither working nor studying, just endlessly dating in different ways and places, the stories and characters lacked logic, Wen Ying’s novel was a breath of fresh air.
Yet such magazines sold well.
Though Xie Qian didn’t like them, he respected others’ preferences, boys and girls were different creatures, girls might not get boys’ hobbies either.
Xie Qian was cautious, saying Wen Ying’s novel was “readable,” but Zou Weijun looked at her son disapprovingly, “Readable? Wen Ying’s writing is excellent, you can’t compare it to literary classics, but to authors her age, if she maintains this level, I’m optimistic about her book’s sales as a standalone!”
Working in publishing, Zou Weijun had studied the book market.
In recent years, she’d researched all bestselling books, including the hottest youth literature authors.
Those young writers had solid prose, or they wouldn’t stand out.
But prose isn’t the same as narrative strength.
Piling up adjectives sometimes left less impact than a few precise words.
Prose also isn’t experience.
Writing about school life was fine, they had that experience.
Writing beyond school often felt awkward.
Compared to those bestselling youth authors, Wen Ying’s prose wasn’t as polished, but her narrative strength and story structure were strong, showing her logical thinking, her weakness was in details, with limited writing experience, her scene transitions could feel stiff, descriptions lacked precision, but she had room to grow!
Intelligence is partly genetic, writing talent isn’t innate, every word and story a writer produces comes from reading and life experience, different perceptions of words and life shape writers’ unique styles.
Zou Weijun couldn’t predict Wen Ying’s future achievements, but at her current level, she might not become a legendary author, but she could certainly make a living from writing.
Zou Weijun didn’t shy from pointing out Wen Ying’s flaws, if no one did, Wen Ying might take longer to realise, taking detours.
Nor did she hold back praise, for someone in publishing, her highest compliment was offering to plan Wen Ying’s book!
“If you’re interested, can I handle the planning?”
What?!
Wen Ying thought this dinner was to celebrate Zou Weijun’s success, not to discuss planning her book.
Of course Wen Ying wanted to publish.
She loved writing, but wasn’t the lofty type blind to practicalities, who’d refuse fame and fortune alongside their dreams?
When Aige invited her to write a serial, she’d thought about a standalone book.
As long as her novel wasn’t axed mid-serial and maintained decent popularity, the odds of a standalone after completion were high.
If Aige didn’t publish it, other publishers would notice, but that’d be later, after the serial ended.
With the latest April issue of Aige, Young Idol had only reached 100,000 words, Little Ni told Wen Ying the magazine hoped she’d write it to 300,000 words.
At 300,000 words, the story was only a third done, publishers wouldn’t approach so early!
If another publisher, someone other than Zou Weijun, approached, Wen Ying would be thrilled, seeing it as recognition of her talent.
But it was Zou Weijun.
Was Zou Weijun offering to publish her book not because of their personal connection?
Wen Ying befriended Xie Qian to save him from a tragic future, not for rewards, as a lawyer, she was used to thinking in terms of gain, but with Xie Qian, she didn’t want to mix in interests.
Xie Qian was Xie Qian, interests were interests.
He was her idol from her past life, like her abandoned writing dream, both once so out of reach.
In this life, she’d become friends with Xie Qian and revived her writing dream, she wanted things to stay simple.
Adult friendships often involve mutual benefits, but her friendship with Xie Qian wasn’t in that category.
In a split second, Wen Ying made up her mind.
Just as she was about to decline Zou Weijun, Xie Qian spoke up to stop her.
