The Literature Thread

[Rommel 2]

1000 word limit for each post. For those who think this is too much... well get over it.

This thread is based for people who wish to show their workings in either short stories or extended novels. Mainly for Feedback.

Have fun posting!

[Rommel 2]

This is the Introduction of my story. I have done 2107 words and it has a very effective story line.

Feedback if possible

<table border="0" align="center" width="95%" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tr><td>Code Sample </td></tr><tr><td id="CODE">

Friday, January 27, 0815 Hours

Corporal. Tim Y. Sword and Sergeant. Steven T. Eric thundered down the hallway, bullets spraying concrete dust all over them, they ran for their lives as a group of men hunted them with Russian AK-47s, firing full - auto. The mud brick walls breaking as bullets pummeled into it.

An inferno of bullets flew in every direction as their predators sprayed down the hallway. A bullet cracked open his hand as a bullet protruded through it. Sgt. Eric wasn’t so lucky, his head exploding as he fell limp against the wall with an awful thump, a gaping hole in the side of his left temple. Sword didn’t gaze back as his comrade fell, he just ran as fast as his legs could stride.

Another burst of bullets sprayed against the wall as Sword turned a corner; the hallway ended with two doorways. He ran to the closest opening and dashed through the doorway, a glimpse of the hunters sprinting around the corner emerged in his peripheral vision, guns brought up to their shoulders searching for a target – him.

Sword ran along the tunnel, in desperation for the escape he and his friends had longed for over an hour ago. A shine of sunlight came into view as Sword ran further up the tunnel, he sprinted towards them and ran out heaving, the hardened rays of the Afghani’ sun.

No kind of relief came over Sword; as he looked over their HMMWV’s, completely destroyed, black wrecks smoking in the sun. As he stared out into the horizon hoping for a miracle his arms stretched out into the air, he became limp in a spurt of blood, a super-sonic 7.62mm bullet smacking into his spine, the impact knocking him off his feet as blood trickled out onto the hard ground, agony dispersing throughout his body. A man stepped over him and pushed down hard on his chest crushing his rib cage. The man wore desert combat fatigues with homemade webbing, a full face sheath covered his face with only an eye slit to see through masking all but his eyes.

’Laku noc’

The insurgent said loudly as he lowered a Glock at the Cpl’s forehead.

Bang.

[XCess 0]

Looks very nice so far, and reads extremely well.

The only bit I didn't lkie was:

Quote[/b] ]

An inferno of bullets flew in every direction as their predators sprayed down the hallway. A bullet cracked open his hand as a bullet protruded through it.

The repitition of the word "bullet" sort of dulls down and otherwise very exciting couple of sentencs, something like:

"An inferno of bullets flew in every direction as their predators sprayed down the hallway. A round cracked open his hand as it protruded painfully through his palm"

Would rmove the repetion, thus making those two sentences a better read.

Overall, a very nice start to the story, and a nice thread idea

[Rommel 2]

Thanks for pointing that out. I changed it

[Journeyman 0]

Rommel, could you put yourself forward as the new author for William Porters blog? ... It would be much appreciated by many!  ... LOL...  

[Rommel 2]

hehe.

The latest paragraph, yeh I'll probably post most of the story as it 'evolves' on here. The feedback could be helpful, MSN is good for this sorta thing, but anoynomous figures are more helpful, as they are not biased.

<table border="0" align="center" width="95%" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tr><td>Code Sample </td></tr><tr><td id="CODE">

An ocean storm was creeping by on the windows as icicles began to form on the windows of the C-130J Hercules. Rain was splattering itself against the sides of the open rear cargo door.

Two Fire Teams, Easy Red and Easy Green, their objective was yet to be made clear to them, so far as they had assimilated, they were en-route to a destination unknown with high explosives and modified M4A1 carbines. The humming of the engines and sharpness of the wind reverberated around the cabin.

A loadmaster stepped down from the cockpit followed by a man in army combat attire, after coming down the stairs the man stood straight, reaching five-foot-eleven. At 29, he had a fit athletic tough look about him, sea blue eyes with dark brown hair and eyebrows. His face was closely shaven and lightly tanned and was a ranking corporal. His name was Fergus Campbell, call sign “Festerâ€.

The pair walked across the metal threshold and seemed to survey that the rear cargo door and rear side doors were open. They returned back to the cockpit door, and after a lengthy conversation lasting almost 2 minutes, the loadmaster continued up into the cockpit, as Campbell began sorting through a plastic container.

Campbell pulled from the container, 11 plastic booklets and 11 black masks, he then took one each for himself and stood up and approached each and every man in the cabin and handed him a booklet and the mask, each one in anticipation sat down and slowly opened the booklets, after two minutes, each man stood up, handed back the booklet and began adjusting they’re HALO [High Altitude Low Opening] gear, and placed the mask inside their packs.

The men assumed they’re positions across the cabin as the loadmaster made the appropriate hand actions to indicate the drop zone was approaching. The loadmaster stared at his watch for a further 14 seconds before shouting ‘Go! Go! Go!’

The two teams ran down the rear cargo ramp, before reaching the end they jumped out into the darkness, rain droplets smashing against their goggles like paintballs.

Each Fire team had a designated radioman but all were allocated and wore their own headset inside the HALO mask, almost simultaneously a voice echoed through each man’s earpiece.

‘Easy Red, this is Easy Green. We’ve been shaken out slightly North of our DZ, we may brush your shoulders, keep your eyes peeled, over’

’Roger Easy Green, out’

Upon reaching 1000ft the team pulled their rip cords which in a enormous gush of wind broke out their parachutes decreasing their rate of decline dramatically.

’Easy Red’ landed one after another in a small clearing, they unclipped the moment they hit the ground, the chutes blown away with the storm winds leaving only the dark shadows that they were. The slashing rain had decreased in its incursion upon the ground; a slight ‘click, click, click’ was heard around them as the water droplets impacted on the hard soil. The tap of the adjustment of Night Vision was heard around as each soldier progressed in landing. Tall shrubbery was all that contained them as they established contact and re-organised, within the minute they were charging off into the desert heading North West, shapes of enormous mountains engulfing them, the suns rays more than minutes away from being capable of visibility.

The first section after the prologue. I had fixed quite a few errors that are still evident in the first post on my way to school

[Rommel 2]

No Feedback?

[XCess 0]

Looking good so far, could you do me a favour an PM me when the whole thing is done? I'd much rather read it in one piece

[Warin 0]

You should try to write in the present tense.

It is a more active voice, and seems far more immediate.

an example:

Before: An ocean storm was creeping by on the windows as icicles began to form on the windows of the C-130J Hercules. Rain was splattering itself against the sides of the open rear cargo door.

After: The ocean storm creeps by the windows and icicles form on the windows of the Hercules. Rain splatters against the sides of the open rear cargo door.

Using the present tense puts the reader in the moment. Uless you are writing about events in history that have aready happened, the present tense is the way to go.

[TrevorOfCrete 0]

You should try to write in the present tense.

It is a more active voice, and seems far more immediate.  

an example:

Before:  An ocean storm was creeping by on the windows as icicles began to form on the windows of the C-130J Hercules. Rain was splattering itself against the sides of the open rear cargo door.

After:  The ocean storm creeps by the windows and icicles form on the windows of the Hercules.  Rain splatters against the sides of the open rear cargo door.

Using the present tense puts the reader in the moment.  Uless you are writing about events in history that have aready happened, the present tense is the way to go.

indeed, it makes a stroy more gripping , more real.

[raynor 0]

Heres one I made a little while back on the 4th Infantry Brigade Website.

Quote[/b] ]This escapade may prove to be much more fun then the last... probably not. ****, three months on this mosquito infested penninsula and I still haven't been laid. Guess everything I was told about the Army was wrong. And to sum it all up I always get picked for the shitty missions like these.

"It's a simple snatch and run," now thats the fifth time my squad leader has said that and the words are still filtering their way into one ear and straight out the other. Supposedly were part of a small two stryker convoy poised to capture some high intellegence VIP or some load of bullshit like that.

As soon as the SSG is done spilling out all the over elaborated mission plans and backup plans he has we proceed to mount in our vehicles. Ever since he told us about the mission plan all I can remember is the special forces guy's bodies being drug along the ground in Somalia. I wasn't old enough to understand that stuff back then... but the pictures shown over and over again on CNN just plastered the images into my brain. Reminds me of how much I hate news... they overdo those damn "live broadcasts".

The vehicles begin to roll out. I'm in the second group to be sent in and my job will be securing the perimeter with the rest of the squad. Thank god for the US Army, seems the only thing they got right tonight was allowing me to draw the weapon I wanted. The M16A2, 40 inches of pure hell for the enemy. I didn't score high on weapons qual but that doesnt matter when your putting three round bursts into his gut.

Not much to say about the interior of these things, not much in It I can really tell you about besides...well its metal and its made to not reflect sunlight. Oh and its loud...really loud, like someone intentially made it too loud to hear my squad leader go over the mission plan AGAIN! Thank you someone.

Then all at once he leans toward the rear hatch and powers it down. Everyone else piles out of the door, a few of em almost losing balance. I of course am the smartass out last. The rest of the team has spanned out pretty good before I get out, and I quickly join them in first securing perimeter around the vehicle and then around the building nearby.

The other squad makes it their business to throw a flashbang into one of the windows. Glass shatters and there is a pause before a deafening roar. Figuring that its that loud outside I'd hate to be the guys inside. I bet their ears are bleeding.

From what I can tell besides a bunch of screaming, a few muffled cries for help and a whole load of **** being thrown around the rest of the entry is uneventfull. The other squad soon arrives from within, I guess they musta got some extra luggage or something since they come out with three guys in tow...maybe that was part of the brief I didn't listen to. Anyway I can't really be more to the point on how much BS this is. I told you I only get the crappy jobs and this just proves it.

We load back onto the Strykers for our return trip. God I really hate this guy, howd he get to be a senior NCO anyway. Yeah you guessed it, my squad leader is slapping backs and congratulating people like we actually did something. Assholes like him make me want to retire that much sooner.

I ride out the bumps in my seat, hell it may be a state of the art vehicle but it certainly doesnt have the ride of a BMW. And soon I am back in my own little la-la land, wondering if the Army will ever get me laid. Though I get interrupted shortly after by a bigger bump then usuall.

The vehicle does a hard turn and almost tilts over. The .50 caliber machine gun above wastes no time firing at presumed enemy positions. "Maybe this guy is actually a VIP!" I exclaim, maybe sounding a little too happy since most of the other guys don't give me the nice looks they usually do. Its back out the hatch, this time to defend what we took.

As soon as were out of the vehicle we begin to return fire. Its dusk, and the flash of enemy rifles makes it easy to get a aim on them. From the hillside to the left a machine gun opens up, red tracers flying wildly down to our position. From what I can tell its some kind of PK. We continue to fire, the Strykers both playing their part. My muzzle repeatedly flashes up with three round bursts.

During the middle of this fighting I can hear things being said like "Yeah I got one!" or "Take that you mother fucker!" Myself...I'm a bit shook up but I'm still trying to earn my right to yell out something obscene. Then I get my chance. You know that PK that was on the hill? Seems the bastard got right up into a ditch in front of us.

Before I knew what was happening a swath of tracers spurt past me and completely knock over one of my squad mates. Hes not injured, thank goodness for body armor and helmets, but me...well I'm injured in a different way then bullets can get. Cause when someone makes you cower in fear all you wanna do is shoot the bastard...or is that just my combat training talking?

At any rate I don't waste much time. Get up on two feet, check. Make a mad dash towards a nearby covered position, check. Bring weapon up, aim and make it a steady aim at that, check. I think I pulled the trigger five times..no six... at any rate I have to reload. And with all those bullets that machine gunner is surely dead. Too bad my squad doesn't practice a healthy amount of communication though. Before I know it I'm on my back trying to sleep off the concussion from a frag grenade.

They say I'm pretty lucky, but I disagree. With me in these casts I'd say they are pretty lucky I can't slug em. And boy-o-boy, if they ever send me on one of those boring missions again I'll give uncle sam what for!

You can find more on the forums ( check my signature) under the FAQ section.

[Rommel 2]

Great work, seems more like a journal then an actual story.