when the Baidu page flashed out, I was shocked. Mr. Wang Weiying actually passed away on May 24th, 21. The mood is very painful. I still have my husband's home phone number in my mobile phone, but unfortunately I haven't called it for many years.
I met Mr. Wang Weiying when I was studying in Siping 17 years ago. At that time, he was in his 4 s and I was in my 2 s. He worked for Siping Daily, and I studied in the Chinese Department of Siping Normal University (now Jilin Normal University). He was the editor of the literature and art column, and I was a student who was willing to write poems. Siping Daily is only about 1 minutes away from our college, but I wrote to contribute to the newspaper at that time. At that time, I always felt subconsciously that if I sent the manuscript to the editor and published it, there would always be a feeling of human relationship, so the happiness of the published text would be greatly reduced, so I always insisted on writing to contribute, and I copied the draft poem to a classmate named Zhang Cheng in my class (his hard-pen regular script is better than mine). Of course, there are many manuscripts that sink into the sea.
At that time, when I was still keen on literature, it was really not easy for me to publish my works in the literary pages of newspapers and periodicals at the municipal level, so it was also the happiest thing. I remember that I kept contributing, and the responsible editor of my first essay, My Life and Sunshine, was Mr. Wang Weiying. Then I published some essays, poems and novels in Siping Daily.
At that time, it was very good, and there was a fee for writing articles. 1 yuan, 15 yuan and 2 yuan were really a lot of money for me (at that time, I was in the college cafeteria, and I only had meals every day in 5 yuan). These manuscripts were also compiled and distributed by Mr. Wang Weiying, and he sometimes slightly revised my manuscripts before publishing them.
My work published in Siping Daily made me a famous poet and writer in my class and even in the Chinese Department. One year when the economy was depressed, Siping TV invited a group of students to write a script for the Spring Festival Evening. Because I was a bit famous, I also participated and enjoyed three days as a screenwriter in the hotel. So I got the envy of a classmate, and I was very bullish in my heart, but on the surface, I showed a calm and indifferent look, which made me feel even more bullish. However, I still didn't go to see Wang Weiying at this moment, but I was secretly grateful to him for making me a cow.
In this way, I am living the dream of a poet and a writer with great seriousness. Now that I think about it, I wrote to satisfy vanity at that time, which is no different from the current fashion. When I do things with vanity, I will inevitably feel hypocritical when I calm down-until now I understand that writing is essentially just expressing myself. Real writing is really not a romantic thing, it sometimes requires you to give your youth and even your life devoutly.
After writing this, I suddenly feel that Mr. Wei Ying's premature death is related to his piety in literature.