Let's talk about poetry first, since literature begins with poetry.
In this spring, let me talk about Chen Zhiyun first. People who write poems may know this name, because in recent years, the frequency of this name in China's poetry circles is not low, and the poems with this name also have quite unique characteristics. At the moment, what we see is his three primary colors, a poetic sponge cooled by passion. It absorbs a lot of flowing water and profound experience, and its ontological cognition and exquisite interpretation angle open another focused window for us.
In this spring, there is also a low-key country singer named Wu Chu, who is my hometown in Hubei. He seems to have signed some kind of contract with rape, and found his own discourse patent from the common expressions of these earthlings. He walked with shallow lyrical steps and made a small pitch. In Minnan and other cities, he continued to prolong his agricultural life with cordial homesickness. Wu Chu's poems are very warm and suitable for us to read in this spring.
He is a diligent new poet. This magazine has been looking for such a new talent and trying to give a high standard of hospitality. His poems are very keen on depicting scenes, keen on replacing real scenes with fairy tales, and deliberately inserting his own figure into them. But as far as technology is concerned, its overall context is still vague, and there is still a lack of high-concentration emotional crystallization.
Talk about prose again. In this spring, our Three-color Lotus is actually a romantic combination of three young talents.
The red leaves in Wushan described by Wu Jiajun are the interaction between dreamers and dreams, and the epiphany and emotional indulgence after people meet with nature. The flame of dance and burning love, with crimson burning traces, helped the writer complete the reconstruction of life and inner world.
Huang Qingmou is a cutting-edge literature recommended in this issue. His prose looks like a bunch of black tulips. It's not a simple country story, but a black splash of a person's black memory on the dark river of time. Although his prose has not yet reached the elegant palace and has not been recognized by more preconceived views, his skill in selecting materials and writing codes is not inferior to those famous prose writers with brilliant reputation and clumsy words. In this spring, we recommend him so solemnly, just to pay him back a little justice. Because many times, China's literary world lacks fairness.
Liang Xiaoyang, a nomadic writer who wandered between Xinjiang and Guangxi, brought us a green pasture. I was deeply impressed by his exquisite story, which was detailed but not trivial. He knows what kind of feelings to use to keep the prose fresh and what kind of words to set up a cool and spacious tent for the prose. After reading "White Clouds in the Wind", I immediately remembered the lonely name Liang Xiaoyang.
Speaking of Xia Zekui, you shouldn't feel strange, should you? I set up a column "Zhekui Tea Talk" for him, the original intention is to make his writing style and identity freely change between writers and readers, thus further highlighting our purpose of running a magazine. He did it. In this issue of the tea party, he published thousands of comments on Xu, another representative writer of the "post-70 s". In this spring, I hope readers can get more secret nutrition from it.
The novel has always been a mountain that this magazine can't avoid, but so far, we have never seen a real mountain peak. Han Weixian, a young writer supported by ourselves, occupied the headlines of this issue. He is a versatile writer and can easily cope with various styles. Meeting love among flowers is just a novel snack he picked up at random. As for other works, due to space limitations, I will not comment on them one by one.
However, we must believe in this spring. Because in any case, spring will not ignore the whisper of a grass.