The Shadowland of Dreams 梦想的阴暗之面
Many people cherish the fond dream of becoming a writer but not many are able to e their dream come true. Alex Haley also wanted to be a writer and he succeeded. Read the following for reasons of his success.
许多人怀有美好的愿望，期望能成为作家，但是能够梦想成真的人不多。艾力克斯• 哈利也想成为作家，可是他成功了。阅读下面这篇文章，看一看他成功的原因。
Many a young person tells me he wants to be a writer. I always encourage such people, but I also explain that there's a big difference between "being a writer" and writing. In most cas the individuals are dreaming of wealth and fame, not the long hours alone at a typewriter. "You've got to want to write," I say to them, "not want to be a writer."
许多青年人对我说，他们想成为作家。我一直鼓励这样的人，但是我也向他们解释“成为作家”和写作之间存在着巨大的差别。多数情况下这些年轻人梦寐以求的是财富与名誉，从未想到要孤身一人长久地坐在打字机旁。“你们渴望的应该是写作，”我对他们说，“而不应该是当作家。”
The reality is that writing is a lonely, private and poor-paying affair. For every writer kisd by fortune there are thousands more who longing is never requited. Even tho who succeed often know long periods of neglect and poverty. I did.
事实上，写作是一项孤单寂寞而又收入微薄的工作。有一个被命运之神垂青的作家，就有成千上万个永远无法实现梦想的人。即使那些成功人士也经常受到长久的冷落，穷困不堪。我便是其中之一。
When I left a 20-year-career in the Coast Guard to become a freelance writer, I had no prospects at all. What I did have was a friend in New York City, George Sims, with whom I'd grown up in Henning, Tenn. George found me my home, a cleaned-out storage room in the Greenwich Village apartment building where he worked as superintendent. It didn't even matter that it was cold and had no bathroom. I immediately bought a ud manual typewriter and felt like a genuine writer.
我放弃了在海岸警卫队做了二十年的工作，为的是成为一名自由撰稿人，这时，我根本没有前途可言。我所拥有的只是一位住在纽约市的朋友，乔治• 西姆斯，他和我是在田纳西
州的赫宁一起长大的。乔治为我找了个家，位于格林威治村公寓大楼中的一间腾空的储藏室，而他是那幢大楼的管理员。房子里冷嗖嗖的，没有卫生间，不过这没什么。我马上买了一台旧的手动打字机，感觉自己颇象一位名符其实的作家。
After a year or so, however, I still hadn't gotten a break and began to doubt mylf. It was so hard to ll a story that I barely made enough to eat. But I knew I wanted to write. I had dreamed about it for years. I wasn't going to be one of tho people who die wondering, What if? I would keep putting my dream to the test － even though it meant living with uncertainty and fear of failure. This is the Shadowland of hope, and anyone with a dream must learn to live there.
然而，大约一年后，我的写作生涯依然没有任何起色，我开始怀疑自己。卖出一篇小说是如此艰难，以至我几乎填不饱肚子。但是，我清楚的是我想写作，我已梦寐以求了许多年。我并不准备成为一名到死时还在想假如的人。我会坚持把我的梦想付诸实践 -- 即使这梦想意味着不稳定的生活和对失败的恐惧。这是希望的阴暗面，任何心存梦想的人都必须学会在这阴暗面下生存。
Then one day I got a call that changed my life. It wasn't an agent or editor offering a big contract. It was the opposite － a kind of siren call tempting me to give up my dream. On the phone was an old acquaintance from the Coast Guard, now stationed in San Francisco. He had once lent me a few bucks and liked to egg me about it. "When am I going to get that $15, Alex?" he tead.
小羊和狼>最大的挖掘机后来有一天，我接到了一个电话，由此改变了我的一生。这并不是一位代理人或编辑打来电话，主动要求与我签大的稿约。恰恰相反 -- 是一声鸣笛，诱使我放弃梦想。打电话来的是海岸警卫队的老熟人，现在在旧金山。他曾经借给我几美元，喜欢催我还给他。“我什么时候才能拿到那十五美元，艾力克斯？”他逗我说。
胶枪
"Next time I make a sale."
梦见黄金首饰瘦腿长高“等我下一次卖出作品吧。”吃什么可以祛痘
"I have a better idea," he said. "We need a new public-information assistant out here, and we're paying $6 000 a year. If you want it, you can have it."
“我有个好主意，”他说，“我们这儿需要一位新的公共信息管理员，年薪六千美元。若想干，那就是你的了。”
Six thousand a year! That was real money in 1960. I could get a nice apartment, a ud car, pay off debts and maybe save a little something. What's more, I could write on the side.蔡文姬父亲
年薪六千美元！这个数目在1960年可真是值钱啊。我可以有一套上好的公寓，一辆二手车，可以还清债务，也许还可有些结余。另外，我还可以业余写作。排骨英文
As the dollars were dancing in my head, something cleared my ns. From deep inside a bull-headed resolution welled up. I had dreamed of being a writer － full time. And that's what I was going to be."Thanks, but no," I heard mylf saying. "I'm going to stick it out and write."
当这些美元在我的脑海里晃动时，某种东西却使我神志清醒起来。我的内心深处升起一个坚强的信念。我曾经梦想成为一名作家 -- 一名专业作家。那才是我的追求。“谢谢你，但是我不去，”我听见自己在说。“我会坚持到底来写作。”
Afterward, as I paced around my little room, I started to feel like a fool. Reaching into my cupboard－an orange crate nailed to the wall － I pulled out all that was there: two cans of sardines. Plunging my hands into my pockets, I came up with 18 cents. I took the cans and coins and jammed them into a crumpled paper bag. There, Alex, I said to mylf. There's everything you've made of yourlf so far. I'm not sure I've ever felt so low.
后来，我在蜗居里踱来踱，开始觉得自己象个傻瓜。我打开橱柜 -- 一只钉在墙上的桔黄色板条箱 -- 把里面的东西全部弄了出来：两罐沙丁鱼。我把手伸进口袋，只摸出十八美分。我把罐头和硬币一起塞进一个皱巴巴的纸袋中。你看，艾力克斯，我自言自语道，你迄今为止努力的结果都在这里。我不知道，自己是不是曾经情绪如此低落过。
I wish I could say things started getting better right away. But they didn't. Thank goodness I had George to help me over the rough spots.
我希望自己能说，情况马上开始好转。但是并没有。感谢上帝，幸亏有乔治帮我渡过了难关。
Through him I met other struggling artists like Joe Delaney, a veteran painter from Knoxville, Tenn. Often Joe lacked food money, so he'd visit a neighborhood butcher who would give him big bones with morls of meat and a grocer who would hand him some wilted vegetables. That's all Joe needed to make down-home soup.
通过乔治，我结识了另外一些正在艰苦奋斗的艺术家，象乔• 德拉尼，一位来自田纳西州科诺科斯威尔市的老画家。乔经常常没吃饭的钱，于是就去光顾附近社区的一位屠户和一个食品商。屠户会送给他一些带点肉的大骨头，从食品商那里他可以弄到一些 枯萎的蔬菜。乔做南方炖汤需要的就是这些。
Another Village neighbor was a handsome young singer who ran a struggling restaurant. Rumor had it that if a customer ordered steak the singer would dash to a supermarket across the street to buy one. His name was Harry Belafonte.
