Chapter 8

Wang Jian took the materials and looked at them. He frowned and asked, "if there is no publishing house, what should we do?"

The old man cleaned the table and said, "you'll have to pay for the book, but you can't afford it."

Wang Chien felt his pocket, but he didn't ask how much it cost to publish the book at his own expense.

He just took his manuscript, glanced at the information on the table and nodded slowly.

Success or failure depends on it.

If it fails, it means that online novels are not acclimatized in the United States.

The novel in the mind, still keep to amuse oneself.

So he wrote down the addresses and methods of several large publishing houses.

I'm going to copy today's printed story outline and the first tens of thousands of words of the novel tomorrow, and try them one by one.

And the old man also tidied up the empty room as Wang Jian's bedroom tonight.

In this way, Wang Jian spent the quietest night after crossing over.

There was no gunfire, no shouting, no smell of leaves or alcohol.

It all made him feel very comfortable.

When Wang Jian got up in the morning the next day, he had already felt that the tiredness of busy tossing over manuscripts had been swept away.

After eating a sandwich and a glass of milk prepared by the old man, he put the manuscript and the prepared story outline into the bag and bid farewell to the old man.

Then Wang Jian went to the post office and bought a bunch of envelopes and a whole sheet of stamps.

Fortunately, Wang Jian lives in New York, where most publishing houses have branches to receive manuscripts for review.

Otherwise, if it's just the postage, you'll have to love him to death.

Then, Wang Jian went to the copy shop again. After some bargaining, he made eight copies of what he had printed.

He put the copied manuscript in an envelope and stuck a stamp on it.

Then, write down the addresses one by one.

In this way, all these were put into the mailbox.

All right, let's wait for an answer.

Wang Jian thought, I hope to have a good result, otherwise I really have to follow Al, use the money to pay the rent, and live through the days of community labor.

In this way, he went back to his flat in the Bronx with hope.

As a result, just as he opened the door, he saw two black guys sitting on the sofa, staring at the door expectantly.

When they saw that it was Wang Jian who came in, they rushed up.

"Hey bro, have you finished that story?" Asked a black man.

"Yes, yes. Take it out when you're finished. We'll wait and see." Another black man said hastily.

Wang Jian was startled. When he calmed down, he found that these two people were the first to read the manuscript.

"Well, no, I didn't go on writing." Wang Jian thought of the old man's advice that the manuscript should not be read before publication.

So I lied.

"Well, why not? The leading role has just been looked down upon by several second level magicians, but the leading role is already a third level magician. " A little black brother lamented, "I'm just looking at it. It's broken. What's the matter?"

"That's it, that's it." Another black man said, "I didn't even have the spirit to deal with Niu yesterday. I just thought about what happened."

Then they looked at Wang Jian and said, "write quickly!"

Wang Jian was flustered by the two people's burning eyes, so he quickly picked up the cartoon of "water Knight" from the table and handed it to him.

"It's interesting to see this first."

They took the cartoon, flipped it a few times, and then threw it back to the table.

"What, it's not pretty. With this Kung Fu, we might as well go to a party. I heard that there are high-grade goods there. "

They looked at each other, stood up bitterly, and said to Wang Jian, "don't go out fooling around. Let's write a good story at home."

Then, they shake their heads and sigh out of the apartment and go to the party.

Looking at their backs, Wang Jian always felt how this picture had such a strong sense of seeing.

Shaking his head hard, he didn't think much about it any more. He went back to his room and took out his certificate to get the food coupon.

Now I don't have a fixed income, and I've spent a lot of money on contribution, so I'd better save it.

After collecting the food coupons from the place where they were issued, Wang Jian went to the store to buy a lot of food.

He went back to his apartment with the food and repeatedly warned himself that he couldn't spend any more money. He really couldn't afford to pay the rent.

Then, Wang Jian began to wait while he was looking for a job and could not find it. He took part in community labor.

In the process of looking for a job, not finding it, and taking part in community labor.

Three days later.

Wang Jian looked at the postman, his eyes empty, and murmured, "not yet..."

Over the past three days, his mood has changed from full of expectation to self consolation.Even now, Wang Jian felt that even the news of rejection was better than no news.

But now, in Manhattan, a young editor named Tom, with Wang Jian's contribution, comes to the editor in chief's office of old Jack.

"Editor in chief, this manuscript is very interesting." He handed the manuscript to the editor in chief, and then said, "although the writing is very immature and the story is absurd, it has great potential."

"If it works well, it's going to be a bestseller novel."

"Let me talk to the author?" He said expectantly.

A serious middle-aged white man picked up the manuscript, motioned the excited young man to sit down and read it.

More than ten minutes later, he lost the manuscript and said, "reject it!"

He said angrily, "is that a book? Magic is not reliable enough, and eating corn is the most powerful? "

"Is it true that people nowadays have no literary literacy? Do you write books at this level? Literature is noble and full of connotation. What is it? "

"But..." Tom was about to say something, but he looked at old Jack's serious face and swallowed what he wanted to say.

"Yes, I'll return it now."

After that, he walked out of the chief editor's office shaking his head.

Old Jack looked at the young man's back and said, "young man, I still lack experience. We still need to sharpen it. "

This kind of thing happened in several other famous publishing houses in New York at the same time.

The only difference is that there is no recommendation from a young editor like Tom.

On Wang Jian's side, after waiting for five days, he finally received the first reply from the publishing house.

He repressed his excitement and returned to his bedroom with the letter.

Take a deep breath and slowly open the envelope.

I see on the writing paper: I am very sorry, your manuscript does not meet the requirements of our publishing house for publications. Please submit again after correction. Thank you for your trust.

Signed: Harper press.

Wang Jian looked at the letter, his eyes empty, his heart mixed.