Open classification: after 80s, most novels, writers and serious literature.
Personal basic information
Original name: Qin Zhao.
Pen name: Corydalis Qiwei
Gender: Female
Birthday: 1988. 10.5
Constellation: Libra
Hobbies: writing, music, movies, photography (hate being photographed), traveling.
Education: From 2003 to 2005, I studied in Chengdu Foreign Language School, a private high school. Before the college entrance examination, the foreign language passed GRE, and passed the written and oral examinations of self-enrollment reexamination in Tsinghua. Finally, the college entrance examination failed unexpectedly and Tsinghua missed it, so Tianjin Foreign Studies University was improved.
Favorite words: Autumn of Missing by Shi Tiesheng, Pillow Grass by Qing Shao Na, She is a woman by Huang Biyun, I am a woman, Annie Baby, Haruki Murakami, etc.
Writing context:
From 2002 to 2003, from June 5438 to 10, Bed is the Tomb of Youth (won the first prize of the 6th New Concept Composition).
In 2003, North, auditions, Old Town and yesterday.
Yuanzhen 2003-2004
Letters in 2005
In 2006, Blue of Flowers, Ice is Sleeping Water, Farewell to Spring and Light of the Earth (singles).
In 2007, night prayers under the lights, thin drinks, portraits of teenagers (one of POOK's singles), I can't sit beside you sadly, Lan Yan, street affairs, quilts are the graves of youth (singles) and seven, for another me in the world.
In 2008, your name is Red and Night Mourning.
personal home page
official website
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Personal work
The Lamp of the Earth is a realistic novel about redemption and liberation (2007+38).
Collection of Novels and Proses of Bed is the Grave of Youth (2007.38+038+0)
The ghosting of teenagers and the most novel is a serial novel, POOK Book Series 2 (2008+0).
Writing process
I have been studying painting and piano since I was a child for nearly ten years. She admitted that she didn't have a huge amount of reading accumulation, but she wanted to write a book when she was in primary school. Under the guidance of her mother, she followed the rules to learn piano, draw, be a captain, monitor and take an Olympic math class. When I was in middle school, I was exposed to a little bit of guitar, jazz drums and movies. Later, I found that the only gain was to enter the way of expressing the world. I once dreamed of becoming a cartoonist and making a movie, but I still hate it. When I grew up, I met many precious things, and I began to recall those people and things, so I found the cheapest expression, that is, writing to prevent myself from defecting to time and memory. Look forward between memory and fantasy with an impetuous mentality, and live to die.
In 2002, Yannian wrote his first article "Bed is the Tomb of Youth". Looking back on yesterday, she said, I saw another metaphysical growth that writing brought me. Now it seems to be a tedious and embarrassing pen, but I despise the past because I have made progress.
In high school, Yan Nian made some valuable friends and benefited a lot, such as Qu He (one of the editors of Chengdu electronic magazine MOY), who lived a life related to writing, music and movies. But correspondingly, I am at a loss when I hate math exams. In the seventh year of Viola's growth, she couldn't get rid of several books she loved to read, because she learned them by heart after repeated reading, such as Shi Tiesheng's thousand-word essay Qiu Si, which she often read under a small 25-watt lamp in the dormitory. For the first time, she knew that the power of words was to do the reading problem of "Qiu Si" in Chinese class, but she was at a loss because of involuntary tears. She told herself that Shi Tiesheng's works made me re-examine the origin of literature and writing, and it will always have a supreme position in my heart.
In 2003, during my days and nights with Ditan, she stayed at the age of inner panic because she was not used to the loneliness that residents had to get used to. The purity and loneliness of the text reassured her, and she wrote some insincere words-North, audition, old town, yesterday.
In the second half of 2003, Far Town initiated evening self-study; Before the winter vacation, he went to Shanghai to participate in the Sixth New Concept Composition Competition, and his article "Bed is the Tomb of Youth" won the first prize. Wang Meng's signature was still on the red carton containing the trophy.
In 2004, I finished reading "Far Town" in the evening self-study class of the second semester of senior high school. In the "Lonely Island" introduced to my friends by this article, I ranked first in the reader's reply list. At this time, when she weighed the huge and heavy study pressure and the desire to write, she finally chose the latter. She said that the hearty places are often integrated with the words, and the exuberant desire and smooth process of expression are unprecedented, but they are only a flash in the pan. Eventually, in the war-torn senior three, all kinds of defections were abandoned and formal self-comfort was completed.
After June 2005, it was difficult to vent her frustration after failing the college entrance examination, and she embarked on a journey. Xiao Suo's "The Waste Land" makes her feel passionate and has several short outlines. When you get home, write down some irrelevant exercises, such as letters. This article was called Shen Congwen's character by Qu He, which made Yan Nian feel surprised and happy.
In 2006, standing on the tail of a teenager, she finally wrote her first novel, Light of the Earth.
Since the publication of Far Town, there has been controversy over the submission of Island and Novel. When hansey left Koai, Jing M.Guo once regarded Viola No.7 as a core member of his team. In many fields of youth literature, which are extreme or strong, or pale with sadness or pain, Yan Nian's uniqueness has attracted the attention of many critics.
Writing achievement
The post-80s generation is a rare serious literary writer and a representative of the post-Anne Baby era. His writing style is mature and steady, quiet and transparent, full of spirituality and strong artistic sense. In her view, the ultimate pursuit of any art form is to express inner beauty and outer beauty, so as to oppose criticizing the expression of young authors on the grounds of rhetoric. She said that when the blind avoidance of language beauty has gradually become a trend, and when the pen has not been minimalist and inclusive, it may be ridiculous to think that choosing a poor and boring plain narrative is the so-called atmosphere.
External evaluation
I used to think that youth writing was superficial, but what Viola said in the seventh year made me feel that China's youth writing had new hope. -Chen Xiaoming (literary critic)
With the maturity that peers don't have, both the conception of the article and the height of the text itself are better than the authors of the same period. -Jing M.Guo (a leading figure in post-80s youth literature)
Personal classic quotations
My youth is no longer thin, it tramples heavily on me, making me hug the painful ideal tightly. When the liberal arts students around me read Buddhist scriptures, they introduced uncommon ancient prose into articles, which seemed to know Chinese very well, and copied Annie Baby's classic "Jing Ke Guo" in another form, which seemed very sad. There are also so many works of Haruki Murakami in Kundera Kafkaz, Milan, including those of the little prince Peter Pan ... These beautiful life recorders and recorded works have been misunderstood by vanity and superficiality, and I feel very sad.
Because we all walk so easily in the shadow of others' aura, we are silly and noisy, and we firmly believe that this is our own advantage and value. And I indifferently insist on trying my best to describe the hostility between ideal and reality in pale language, as well as the long-standing indifference and hope, rejection and compromise in my heart. Really, really, again. Youth, my lovely youth.
Whether we are right or wrong, we love it but forget it. Did you cry when you left or something? I was just hurt, but I smiled.
It turns out that some things are really accomplished inadvertently, and some people are really destined beyond imagination ... No matter what kind of body God gave me, I have staged joys and sorrows for seventeen years, and some people have carved something in the scenery along the way. I learned to be safe, to lie, to be calm, to be silent and to be patient. The joy of tossing and turning turns into a cup, and I stand in the wind and sweep them into the darkest corner of my heart. It doesn't matter anymore. Smile at others with bright eyes and teeth like that, the soul bursts and the shadow lingers. Only strength is everywhere.
So if you have misfortune, you have to bear it yourself. Comfort is sometimes stretched. If you are not strong, you have to work hard. We are not naked, hungry and unaccompanied. We have no right to be sad. We can write happiness for a long time.
How hard it is for a person to be honest with his past.
Missing is the weakest thing in life, humbleness.
In this world that regards turning back as weakness and shame. No matter how far you go, you will never achieve what you want. No matter how close you get, you can't go back to your dream. People will always be a group of creatures enslaved by their inner regrets and longings, trapped in a one-way street of life, unable to go far and go back.
Some things fade away, you know it existed, but you forget how it existed.
Because they are flesh and blood, many words have become taboo. Communication is a shame, closeness is a shame, and it is natural to express love for each other by demanding and slandering each other. What a sad fact.
At the end of The Stranger, there is a cup of gloomy ashes scattered. How many weak human feelings can keep the regret of keeping a thin burial? At the end of the sad elegy, give this silent green monument a so-called mourning for the lonely marriage age? And this world, in a flash, how many bitter souls whose bones are not cold, follow into the empty silence, but can't afford a trace of commemoration in the world.
However, I choose to forget the people I care about.
I stood in the wind, and my broom swept the scattered glass near the darkest corner of my heart.
There is no legend that the grass grows and the warbler flies in this city. It will always live in reality, with fast drums, hurried figures, numb eyes and fake smiles, and I am being assimilated.
The wind blew away. A year passed like this. It will continue like this next year. I don't know whether there is depression behind stability, or whether there is stability in depression. We just can't find it.
Wake up ... there's nothing to remember. ...
Look, in this world full of love and being loved, hurting and being hurt, life is mean to us, because it always lets us down; However, life is so generous that it will always save us after disappointment.
I think we must live with dignity because of the generosity of life. Just like life itself, respect our existence.
Have the simplest life and the farthest dream.
Even if it's freezing tomorrow, it's still a long way.
I have seen your most affectionate face and your most gentle smile. In the cold world, the light gives me the ability to live and love while walking.
That's you who never sat beside me sadly.
It was me who never sat beside you happily-sadly, after the song ended, I suddenly realized that I could never have you sitting next to me again. This is the real unhappiness.