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1987年的冬天是个暖冬,我抱着刚刚出生几个月的女儿,正在家琢磨着小说创作。我的军艺文学系同学、当时在《昆仑》编辑部当编辑的张俊南突然打来电话,希望我能去采写一篇反映武警边防部队的长篇报告文学。我没写过报告文学,对边防一无所知,况且总觉得小说比报告文学要神圣,我犹豫了。 “你行”,电话那边一腔信任,“你的理性和感性都应该行,尝试一下,对你今后的创作会有好处”,他好像猜到了我的心思,说了一句我至今记忆犹新的话:“文学品类没有高低之分,应该都尝试一下,也许你会找到最适合自己的角
The winter of 1987 was a warm winter. I was dying for a novel with my daughter, who was born a few months earlier. My classmate of military arts and literature, at the time of the editor in Kunlun, Zhang Junnan suddenly called and hoped that I could write a long reportage that reflected the Armed Police Frontier Forces. I did not write any reportage and did not know anything about border defense. I always hesitated that the novel should be more sacred than reportage. I hesitated. “You do it,” the phone over there a trust, “your rationality and sensibility should be OK, try it, for your future creation will be good,” he seems to guess my mind, said something I still remember New words: "no distinction between literary class, should try, maybe you will find the most suitable for their own corner