The worst year I ever had as a writer I earned two dollars. I was fifteen, remember? In my best year I earned 36,000 dollars. Most years I earned between five thousand and ten thousand. No, it isn"t enough to live on, but it"s still more than I"d make working part time and it"s five thousand to ten thousand more than I"d make if I didn"t write at all. People ask what college I attended, what degrees I had and what qualifications I have to be a writer. The answer is: “None.” I just write. I"m not a genius. I"m not gifted and I don"t write right. I"m lazy, undisciplined, and spend more time with my children and friends than I do writing. I didn"t own a thesaurus until four years ago and I use a small Webster"s dictionary that I"d bought at KMart for 89 cents. I use an electric typewriter that I paid a hundred and twenty nine dollars for six years ago. I"ve never used a word processor. I do all the cooking, cleaning and laundry for a family of six and fit my writing in a few minutes here and there. I write everything in longhand on yellow tablets while sitting on the sofa with my four kids eating pizza and watching TV. When the book is finished, I type it and mail it to the publisher. I"ve written eight books. Four have been published and three are still out with the publishers. One stinks. To all those who dream of writing, I"m shouting at you: “Yes, you can. Yes, you can. Don"t listen to them.” I don"t write right but I"ve beaten the odds. Writing is easy, it"s fun and anyone can do it. Of course, a little dumb luck doesn"t hurt.
我不懂写作
十五岁的时候，我对班上同学宣布说准备写书，并自己画插图。一半的学生开始窃笑，其余的则几乎从椅子上笑得跌到地上。“别傻了，只有天才才能成 为作家，”英文老师自以为是地说道，“而你这个学期只有可能得D。”我羞愧得大哭起来。
那天晚上，我写了一首关于梦想破灭的伤心短诗，并将它寄给了《卡普里周报》。出乎意料的是，他们发表了这首小诗并给我寄来了两美元。我是作家了 ，我的作品发表了并因此而得到了报酬。我拿给老师和同学看，他们都笑我。“瞎猫逮着死耗子，”老师说道。我尝到了成功的甜头。我的第一篇作品就 卖出去了。这比他们任何人做的都强，如果这是瞎猫逮着死耗子，那么我不在乎。
在接下来的两年里，我卖掉了几十首诗歌、书信、笑话和食谱。中学毕业时，我的平均成绩是C+，但我的剪贴簿里已经贴满了我发表的作品。我再也没有 将自己的写作情况告诉老师、同学或家人。他们都是无情的毁梦者。如果有人要从朋友和梦想之间作出选择，他们总该选择后者。
现时我有四个孩子，最大的只有四岁。孩子们进入梦乡时，我就在那台老掉牙的打字机前打字，我写下自己的感受，这花了我九个月的时间，就像十月怀 胎。我随意选择了一家出版社，将手稿用空的“帮宝适”尿布的盒子包起来--这是我唯一能找到的盒子了。我从来没听说过手稿箱。在附信中我写道： “这本书是我自己写的，希望你喜欢。插图也是我自己画的。我本人最喜欢第六章和第十二章。谢谢。”我用绳子捆好尿布箱，然后寄了出去，甚至没有 在信封上加盖自己的地址，也没有留下一份手稿的复印件。
一个月后，我收到一份合同、一份预付款，以及另一本书的约稿。我的书《哭泣的风》成了最畅销的书，并被译成15国文字和盲文，销往世界各地。白天 我出现在电视上的访谈节目中，晚上则回家换尿片。为了去领各种奖项，我从纽约来到加利福尼亚、加拿大。我的第一本书被列为加拿大本土美语学校的 必读课程。
自从成了作家以来，我挣得最少的一年只有两美元。那时我十五岁，还记得吗？而最多的一年我可以挣三万六千美元。多数时候我挣的钱在五千到一万之 间。不，这当然不够维持生计，但总比我兼职所能赚到的多，而且比我如果不写作要多赚了五千到一万美元。人们问我曾上过什么大学，曾得过什么学位 ，曾获过什么资格证书才可以成为作家。答案是：“什么也不需要。”我只是写。我不是天才。我并没有写作天分也不懂写作。我懒惰，没有经过正式训 练，与孩子和朋友相处的时间要多过写作的时间。直到四年前我才有了一本词典。我使用的是用89美分在K市场里买来的一本韦氏小词典。我从来不使用 单词处理程序。我包揽了家里六个人所有的烹调、清洁和洗涤的活儿，这里写几分钟，那里写几分钟。所有的东西我都是坐在沙发上速记在黄色的笔记簿 上，四个孩子在一边吃比萨饼一边看电视。书写完了，我就打出来然后寄到出版社。我写了八本书。四本已出版，三本在出版社，还有一本写砸了。对于 那些梦想写作的人，我想大喊一声：“行的，你一定能行，不要听信别人。”我不懂写作，可是我战胜了不可能。写作很容易，十分有趣，每个人都做得 来。当然，哪怕是瞎猫逮着死耗子也无关紧要。
Catch of a Lifetime
He was 11 years old and went fishing every chance he got from the dock at his family"s cabin on an island in the middle of a New Hampshire lake.
On the day before the bass season opened, he and his father were fishing early in the evening, catching sunfish and perch with worms. Then he tied on a small silver lure and practiced casting. The lure struck the water and caused colored ripples in the sunset, then silver ripples as the moon rose over the lake.
When his peapole doubled over, he knew something huge was on the other end. His father watched with admiration as the boy skillfully worked the fish alongside the dock.
Finally, he very gingerly lifted the exhausted fish from the water. It was the largest one he had ever seen, but it was a bass.
The boy and his father looked at the handsome fish, gills playing back and forth in the moonlight. The father lit a match and looked at his watch. It was 10 P.M. - two hours before the season opened. He looked at the fish, then at the boy.
“You"ll have to put it back, son,” he said.
“Dad!” cried the boy.
“There will be other fish,” said his father.
“Not as big as this one,” cried the boy.
He looked around the lake. No other fishermen or boats were anywhere around in the moonlight. He looked again at his father. Even though no one had seen them, nor could anyone ever know what time he caught the fish, the boy could tell by the clarity of his father"s voice that the decision was not negotiable. He slowly worked the hook out of the lip of the huge bass and lowered it into the black water.
The creature swished its powerful body and disappeared. The boy suspected that he would never again see such a great fish.
That was 34 years ago. Today, the boy is a successful architect in New York City. His father"s cabin is still there on the island in the middle of the lake. He takes his own son and daughters fishing from the same dock.
And he was right. He has never again caught such a magnificent fish as the one he landed that night long ago. But he does see that same fish-again and again-every time he comes up against a question of ethics.
For, as his father taught him, ethics are simple matters of right and wrong. It is only the practice of ethics that is difficult. Do we do right when no one is looking? Do we refuse to cut corners to get the design in on time? Or refuse to trade stocks based on information that we know we aren"t supposed to have?
We would if we were taught to put the fish back when we were young. For we would have learned the truth. The decision to do right lives fresh and fragrant in our memory. It is a story we will proudly tell our friends and grandchildren. Not about how we had a chance to beat the system and took it, but about how we did the right thing and were forever strengthened.
一生的收获
他11岁那时，只要一有机会，就会到他家在新汉普郡湖心岛上的小屋的码头上钓鱼。
鲈鱼季节开放的前一天晚上，他和父亲早早开始垂钓，用小虫作饵钓太阳鱼和鲈鱼。他系上鱼饵，练习如何抛线。鱼钩击在水面，在夕阳中漾起一片金色 的涟漪，夜晚月亮升出湖面时，涟漪就成了银色。
当鱼杆向下弯的时候，他知道线的另一端一定钓到了一条大鱼。父亲看着他技巧纯熟地在码头边沿和鱼周旋，眼神充满赞赏。
最后他小心翼翼地将筋疲力尽的鱼提出水面。这是他所见过的最大的一条，还是一条鲈鱼。
男孩和他父亲看着这条漂亮的鱼，它的鱼鳃在月光下一张一翕。父亲点燃一根火柴，看了看表。十点了--离开禁还有两个小时。他看了看鱼，又看了看 男孩。
“你得把它放回去，孩子，”他说道。
“爸爸！”男孩叫道。
“还有其他的鱼嘛。”父亲说道。
“但没这么大。”男孩叫道。
他环视了一遍湖。月光下附近没有其他的渔民或船只。他又看了看他父亲。从父亲不可动摇的语气中，他知道这个决定没有商量余地，即使没有人看到他 们，更无从得知他们何时钓到了鱼。他慢慢地将鱼钩从大鲈鱼的唇上取下，然后蹲下将鱼放回水中。
鱼儿摆动着它强健的身躯，消失在水中。男孩想，他可能再也看不到这么大的鱼了。