In any case, Fan Qingfeng finally missed this night.

Li Yan should have gloated, but he couldn't be happy no matter what.

Facing the failure of others.

The weak laughed.

The strong contemplate.

Li Yan knew very well that writing books would not always be smooth.

The first time, you may be lucky, and you accidentally embarked on a path to win readers and wrote along this path.

But as time goes by, the scenery on the roadside begins to repeat, and the characters on the road gradually become similar, and readers will inevitably turn to other places.

In order to survive, some authors will find another way.

But opportunities and risks coexist.

Who knows whether that road is right or wrong?

Some people are afraid to try new risks and walk on one road for ten years, either starting a sect or chronic death.

Some people will die if they don’t change. Even if they are bleeding, they will have to get up and make a way, or be reborn from the fire or be crushed to pieces.

Fan Qingfeng was not the first to fall, nor would he be the last one.

At this moment, countless authors are still continuing, life and death are uncertain.

This is their destiny.

Do you feel it, Teacher Fan.

This is also part of the online article.

"call……"

Li Yan in front of the keyboard learned from his mistakes and was refreshed.

Then next.

It's my turn!

This night, I will stand on Teacher Fan's traumatized body and reorganize the outline.

First of all, we must be clear that some people have come up with ideas like "The Evil Young Master of Flag Drawing" long ago.

Since the day of spontaneous writing, readers have continued to recommend similar novels, and Li Yan himself has also read and studied them.

He soon discovered that the fun of such books in the early stages is actually somewhat similar, and the fatigue in the middle stages is also similar.

In every story, the "villain" is using contrast and coincidence to win favor.

Every time I win a favor, the expectation of the story will drop a section.

Authors with stronger spiritual energy can rely on extraordinary brain circuits to improve the fun of each plot as much as possible.

But this is water without a source, and the author's talent has improved and will never catch up with the loss of 4,000 yuan a day.

Therefore, this type of book will most likely die within 300,000 words, and even if it can hold on, it will become more boring.

The story becomes narrower and narrower, and the bottleneck is approaching.

Wild dogs who used to write for fun often end here.

But now he...

We need to make a breakthrough.

A breakthrough must be made this time!

The energy of the story needs to be fully loaded in one breath.

In Chapter 3, you need to accumulate enough energy to break through narrow constraints like a rocket and embrace a wider space.

This Rocket must be a very strong plot, an interesting and long-term and not out of control.

In the original design, Makoto Ito should be trying to find a way to start a new business to ensure that the family still has a chance to make a comeback after bankruptcy.

This idea is perfect, but it is difficult to implement.

It is becoming more and more difficult to write interestingly just because of business and business wars.

What's more, this kind of theme is very unsuitable for campus light novels.

If "The Evil Young Master of Drawing the Flag" is outside the school and is a single line to do business, it will not be as good as it is written, and it will only make readers jump over it.

Many authors have made similar attempts, and they often only get such comments in the end.

[Stop writing about career, write your daily life well.]

So the author had to return to daily life and continue it with a tough bullet.

It's like an ant spinning around a bottleneck. Not to mention rushing out, it's already very difficult not to fall down.

On the other hand, stories about business wars have been written by countless rebirth articles.

Set sail is like this place, with trillions of companies running all over the ground, and a billion billions of people are not as good as a dog.

No, you can't write...

At this time, Makoto Ito went out to do the Internet or something, which was embarrassing to think about it.

But if you can't write this, what else can you write?

In addition to business, what else can support Makoto Ito’s main life?

Um……

politics???

Run for parliament and become prime minister?

When Li Yan thought of this, he stood up and wished that the sky spirit veil would be opened!

Countless inspirations burst out, and even the campaign slogans were copied-

"I want to legislate to prohibit mosaics in all literary and artistic works."

"You guys, please follow me to that world without 'codes'"!

Well, very, very interesting!

And it feels very spatial, and existing characters can be arranged in.

Li Yan instantly entered the writer Timing, grabbed his head and danced in the room, walking around.

But he had just taken a few steps and was about to enter the political arena for the first time...

My heart suddenly became cold.

Oh shit.

Now I can't afford the price of 404.

It is impossible to write a work like "The Red Flag of the Soviet Union" at will...

At this moment, it seemed that a basin of cold water had really poured it down, so it poured him through.

He was like a child, lost and stuck in his breath, sitting on the chair.

well……

"The Road to the Prime Minister", what a pity.

Think about it again, think about it again...

He put his elbows on the table and grabbed his head fiercely.

Wild Dogs, you can...

You can definitely think of a better plot...

You...must be able to think of it!

...

A certain year, a certain month, a certain day, a late night.

Red brick sub-story, in a three-story public kitchen.

A middle-aged man who looked mediocre and miserable was sitting on a stool, lying beside the chopping board, staring at the paper in front of him with the public light, silently watching the paper in front of him.

The smoke in his mouth had long burned out, leaving only a long column of dry ash, which had not fallen for a long time.

A little boy of five or six years old passed by here in a daze. He stopped when he smelled the smoke, rubbed his eyes and looked in. He saw the outline of the figure and spoke: "Dad... are you still writing..."

The man still didn't move, probably didn't hear it.

But his hand unconsciously grabbed the cigarette box and took out one and stuffed it into his mouth without any consciously.

When I opened my mouth, the cigarette I had just dropped before and fell on my legs.

He hurriedly put the new cigarette in his hand and lowered his head and patted his legs.
To be continued...