练习材料
Lesson 39-2 What every writer wants 作家之所需
A blurred image appears; he adds a brushstroke and another, and it is gone; but something was there, and he will not rest till he has captured it. Sometimes the yeast within a writer outlives a book he has written. I have heard of writers who read nothing but their own books; like adolescents they stand before the mirror, and still cannot fathom the exact outline of the vision before them. For the same reason, writers talk interminably about their own books, winkling out hidden meanings, super-imposing new ones, begging response from those around them. Of course a writer doing this is misunderstood: he might as well try to explain a crime or a love affair. He is also, incidentally, an unforgivable bore.
/ˈlɛsən/ 39-2 /wʌt/ /ˈɛvəri/ /ˈraɪtər/ /wɑnts/ 作家之所需
/ə/ /blɜrd/ /ˈɪməʤ/ /əˈpɪrz/; /hi/ /ædz/ /ə/ brushstroke /ənd/ /əˈnʌðər/, /ənd/ /ɪt/ /əz/ /gɔn/; /bət/ /ˈsʌmθɪŋ/ /wəz/ /ðɛr/, /ənd/ /hi/ /wɪl/ /nɑt/ /rɛst/ /tɪl/ /hi/ /həz/ /ˈkæpʧərd/ /ɪt/. /səmˈtaɪmz/ /ðə/ /jist/ /wɪˈðɪn/ /ə/ /ˈraɪtər/ /ˌaʊtˈlɪvz/ /ə/ /bʊk/ /hi/ /həz/ /ˈrɪtən/. /aɪ/ /həv/ /hɜrd/ /əv/ /ˈraɪtərz/ /hu/ /rid/ /ˈnʌθɪŋ/ /bət/ /ðɛr/ /oʊn/ /bʊks/; /laɪk/ /ˌædəˈlɛsənts/ /ðeɪ/ /stænd/ /bɪˈfɔr/ /ðə/ /ˈmɪrər/, /ənd/ /stɪl/ /ˈkænɑt/ /ˈfæðəm/ /ði/ /ɪgˈzækt/ /ˈaʊtˌlaɪn/ /əv/ /ðə/ /ˈvɪʒən/ /bɪˈfɔr/ /ðɛm/. /fər/ /ðə/ /seɪm/ /ˈrizən/, /ˈraɪtərz/ /tɔk/ /ˈɪntərmɪˌnæbli/ /əˈbaʊt/ /ðɛr/ /oʊn/ /bʊks/, /ˈwɪŋkəlɪŋ/ /aʊt/ /ˈhɪdən/ /ˈminɪŋz/, /ˈsupər/-/ɪmˈpoʊzɪŋ/ /nu/ /wʌnz/, /ˈbɛgɪŋ/ /rɪˈspɑns/ /frəm/ /ðoʊz/ /əˈraʊnd/ /ðɛm/. /əv/ /kɔrs/ /ə/ /ˈraɪtər/ /ˈduɪŋ/ /ðɪs/ /ɪz/ /ˌmɪsəndərˈstʊd/: /hi/ /maɪt/ /əz/ /wɛl/ /traɪ/ /tʊ/ /ɪkˈspleɪn/ /ə/ /kraɪm/ /ɔr/ /ə/ /lʌv/ /əˈfɛr/. /hi/ /əz/ /ˈɔlsoʊ/, /ˌɪnsɪˈdɛntəli/, /ən/ /ˌʌnfɔrˈgɪvəbəl/ /bɔr/.
