Have you ever experienced a free writing? Have you taken into consideration how about your writing? Whatever, my answer is, of course, yes. When I was in primary school, I remembered that our main courses were Chinese, math and English. Although many years have passed, I still had a deep impression on my Chinese teacher. He always liked wearing suit going with a tie. It was obvious that he was medium height and build. He also preferred parting his hair in the middle because he thought that would make him as an artist. He could not recite Tang poetries and Song Ci without impassioned or depressed voice, which would immerse ourselves in this situation. Perhaps it was under this subtle influence that I gradually loved to write. Finally, with the help of my teacher, I could write a decent primary school composition. When my teacher read the composition in front of the class, my classmates gave me an envious look, and then my face got red, but my heart was filled with happiness.
I was exposed to the classical Chinese for the first time when I was in junior high school. Because I was attracted by the short and concise style, I spared no effort to make good use of the classical Chinese to keep diaries. The effort not too long, I paid the sweat to reap the benefits. When I was in 9th Grade, there happened to be a writing contest. There was no doubt that I used the simplest classical Chinese a composition which called The Meaning of Friendship won the first prize at the elementary level. Therefore, I was praised by the pincipal.
In high school, writing just for grades, so I even started to hate writing. Once I took the midterm exam of Chinese, I clearly knew that it still had 40 minutes to write the composition. However, my mind went blank until the end of the exam. It was hardly surprising that my Chinese teacher required me to the office after the exam. He said doubtlly,"You should not be unable to finish an 800-word composition at your level, that is right?" Tears rolled down, "Teacher, I used to be happy to give a writing, but now I feel upset and I hate it." My teacer handed me a tissue and sympathetically said, "Well, I allow you to write what you want to write." "Really?" "Sure." In the end, I walked out of the office with relief. In order to inspire my writing inspiration, my teacher advised me that I could get close to Ru Xun's books. As time went by, I was unconsiously moved by Ru Xun's articles which could give me a sense of vitality. Occisonally, I won the second prize in the national writing competition with a piece named Hometown, Where the Dream Would Come Back.