That winter eight years ago, I came to this coastal city and this famous newspaper group. I'm not a reporter, I'm a publisher.The threshold for recruiting journalists for this newspaper group is very high.First of all, you have to graduate from a well-known university in the country. Later, I found out that undergraduate graduates from Peking University and Fudan University are considered low-level diplomas here. There are a lot of masters and doctors who have returned from overseas, but I graduated from a third-rate university. ;Secondly, you must have working experience in a well-known national media, and I have a bumpy career experience. I have worked in a bankrupt newspaper and also "fake" a county-level newspaper. These are undoubtedly the "stains" in my resume; Thirdly, it is necessary to have manuscripts that have far-reaching influence across the country, and because the newspapers I have worked for in the past year are all third-rate and fourth-rate newspapers, no matter how good the manuscript is, it will not have the slightest influence.

However, as long as I can join this nationally renowned newspaper group, I will also be a publisher. There are nearly ten daily newspapers, weekly newspapers, weekly periodicals, and magazines under this newspaper group.And I am the publisher of a newly launched weekly newspaper under the group. Every morning, I receive a hundred copies of newspapers from the distribution station, and then stand at the entrance of shopping malls, stations, and urban villages, shouting at the top of my voice: "Sell newspapers, the latest newspapers." In fact, newspapers come out once a week. Only one day of the week is up to date, the rest are old.

In my memory, the winter of that year was extremely cold, with a biting cold wind, and I would shiver all over when I stood for a while.To beat the cold, I had to keep walking, stamping my feet and shaking my legs like a wind-up Transformer.Often, I can't sell ten copies in one morning, and the money I earn from selling ten copies is not enough for me to eat a bowl of wontons. In order to sell more newspapers, I did not hesitate to sell my "hue". When I saw a single girl approaching, I stopped and said, "Little sister, buy a newspaper." walked around.Girls were unwilling to buy, so I changed my strategy and looked for men with girls. When they were whispering, when they appeared in my sight, I suddenly ran over and said, "Brother, One yuan, buy a share." This trick really worked, and many men are willing to act generous in front of girls.In this way, I can also sell a hundred newspapers a day.The commission for each newspaper is 15 cents, and I can earn 15 yuan a day.

Very early on, when I saw those newsboys in classic black-and-white movies with a stack of newspapers under their armpit running past a rickshaw and yelling "extra, extra", I would feel a pang of sadness in my heart; I am also selling newspapers. The difference is that I am not a newspaper boy. I am almost thirty years old. The ancients said that I have not yet stood up, and I am still lying in the mud.However, I was never discouraged. I came to this nationally renowned newspaper group with a glimmer of hope. I imagined that one day I could work in that building like a temple in my heart.

In the winter of that year, I would often come to that building and look at it across the road.Those editors and reporters who came in and out of that building, no one would have thought that there was a person standing opposite them at this moment, with a cheetah-like longing in his eyes, and a turmoil in his heart.He believed that he would become the reporter in that building before long, and he would definitely become the best reporter in this building.He has a goal to fight for, like a very hungry lion, who needs too much to gallop on the grassland, and then press the prey under its claws and tear it to pieces.

There is only one way to die in life, the rest are ways to live.I believe that one day, I will walk into that building. Life as a publisher is hard.One day, the publishing station had a meeting, and the stationmaster said that the publishing department of the newspaper had stipulated that each person should complete the subscription task of 200 copies this winter. There are only about 20 people in our publishing station, many of them are locals, and some of them work part-time.The station master is a veteran, with a bald head, a burly figure, and a hideous face.I heard that he used to be a company commander in the army, so he treated us all as recruits, yelling at every turn, and punching anyone who dared to resist.

Other publishers have their own way.Someone’s relative is the leader, and after a phone call, the lower-level department sent over 200 newspaper subscriptions; someone’s relative is responsible for taxation, and each stall in the vegetable market gets a newspaper... When I came to this city, I had no relatives and was alone. I could only rely on myself. The next day, I moved a table and a chair and placed them at the entrance of a shopping mall. I also wrote a subscription advertisement and placed them next to the table.The day passed, and I watched everyone who passed me expecting that they would order a newspaper.However, no, no one has heard of this newly launched newspaper.

At night, I am going to change my approach, from passive defense to active attack. At that time, I lived in an urban village, the largest urban village in the city.There are many shops in the village in the city.After dawn, I went to a small business shop, and I begged my grandpa to tell my grandma, praying that they could order a newspaper. However, a day passed, and I only completed the task of ordering a newspaper. The people living in the villages in the city are all poor people, and those who do small businesses are also poor people.The newspaper subscription fee of tens of yuan a year is also a huge expense for them.

what to do?How can I complete the remaining one hundred and ninety-nine subscription tasks? At that time, I was like a cheetah that had been hungry for too long. Any prey that passed by my eyes would not be let go.This kind of madness fully stimulated my potential. No one subscribed to the newspaper. The key reason was that the citizens had never heard of the newspaper because of its lack of popularity.what to do?I figured out a way.One day, I walked into the distribution station and asked the stationmaster for hundreds of unsold old newspapers. The stationmaster asked, "What do you want these old newspapers for?" I said, "It's very useful. understood."

At three o'clock in the morning the next day, I was riding the bicycle issued by the newspaper office. On both sides of the back seat of the bicycle, there was a bucket of paste boiled a few hours ago, and hundreds of old newspapers on the other.At every intersection, I jumped off the bike and stuck a newspaper on the wall. The next morning, the whole city knew that there was a new newspaper in the city.I rode an empty bicycle, watched a bunch of newspaper-reading buttocks at every intersection, and returned to the village in the city triumphantly. At dusk that day, after I woke up in the village in the city, I slipped into a community. At that time, the management of the community was not as strict as it is now, and the security guards wearing big hats were useless.I took the elevator all the way to the top floor, and then knocked on the door.At that time, it was the time for urban white-collar workers to get off work and cook, and there would be people in every family.My family knocked on the door one by one, explaining the purpose of coming, and asking them to subscribe to our newspaper.Some people said: "Oh, I know this newspaper, it is all over the street today." I took the opportunity to say: "Yes, the newspaper has such an influence, it is really a pity that you don't subscribe." In this way, I rely on With a glib tongue, you can always subscribe to a few dozen copies in a building.

However, there are also times when the door is shut down. Some people, through the anti-theft door, just understood my purpose, cursed, and closed the wooden door viciously.I stood outside the door and cursed viciously in my heart through the wooden door.In this way, the two offset each other, and I happily knocked on the door of the next resident. My crazy act at 3 o'clock in the morning caused a sensation in the newspaper office. The station manager said to me with a smile: "This kind of spirit that is not afraid of sacrifice is needed to do the work. The boss praised our distribution station at a meeting. You are so damn good to me. Long face." Then, he, who was a soldier, regarded the publishing competition as a battle: the enemy occupied the mountain, and we were at the foot of the mountain, what should we do?Take a sneak attack, launch an attack at night, and take advantage of the chaos to drive the enemy down the mountain. "Damn it, with this ruthlessness, anything can be done." Relying on knocking on the door one by one, I finally overfulfilled the 200 subscription task.In the next two months, the distribution situation of the newspaper opened up. Of course, it was not the credit of my painting the wall at night, but the result of the newspaper's advertising.Then, life is easier for us publishers.Every morning, I only need to deliver the newspapers to the newsstands one by one, and then deliver them to the newspaper box at the subscriber's door, and I have completed the task of the day.This kind of life is leisurely and casual, but the monthly salary is less than one thousand yuan. On New Year's Day of that year, the newspaper office held a spring reception, and I was invited because I was ranked among the top ten in the newspaper's distribution department. At that reception, I got to know many well-known national journalists whom I had never heard of before, and met domestically renowned newspaper elites.I figured if I stayed in the publishing department, I'd do well.However, I have always wanted to be a reporter, and being a reporter has always been a dream in my heart.I look forward to the day when I will be able to sit together with these nationally renowned journalists and toast together. At that reception, everyone suggested that my immediate boss, the head of the publishing station, speak.He was eating at that time, and he swallowed his mouthful of beef whole, then stood up and said to himself: "What should I say? What should I say?" He blushed so nervously that his neck was thick.Everyone held back their laughter and looked at him.After a few minutes of stalemate, he said, "Forget it, I won't say anything." Then he sat down and continued eating his bacon.Everyone roared with laughter. At that reception, I also heard the editor-in-chief's generous speech. His speech opened a door in front of me and let me see a whole new world.I swear that I will work hard. In this newspaper group, I have been working from trainee reporter, reporter, chief reporter, director, and assistant to the editor-in-chief until one day I can sit by his side. He is the goal of my life. That day, I returned to the village in the city and wrote in my diary: "I will spend three years as the chief reporter of this newspaper group."