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I writeing a novel, and wanted some input on some of what I've written, comeing from outside my family. Contructive criticism welcomed.
Bonus points if you can figure out what it's about.

Six men sit around a table playing cards in the blown out husk of what was once an office building. They?re armed. Heavily. Two have PKM machine guns, two have M4?s, and two have Yugoslavian AKM?s with ?spigots? on the barrel to launch rifle grenades. A few of them are dressed in ?surplus? ARMY urban camo, the rest aren?t. One of them is young, so young that he wouldn?t normally be old enough to buy a cigarette, even though he is currently chewing on a cigar.
It?s hot, at least 90 degrees, probably more. Automatic weapons fire constantly chatters in the distance, occasionally accompanied by the dull thud of a grenade or land mine going off. A voice comes through a field radio set down on the table, ?Squad Six come in, this is Squad Four. Taking heavy fire from Joe. Request support.?
The young man picked the radio up and said, ?Roger that Four. This is Six Leader, we?re on our way.?
He put the radio in a backpack that had been sitting next to him. He spoke, in a loud, commanding voice, ?Alright boys! You heard the man! Lock and load we?re movin? out!?
The other men responded in different ways, but they all meant something to the effect of ?Sure thing, Boss.?
The men picked up there guns, put the safeties off, and left out of the ruin. They began moving down the street outside; it was littered with spent casings, blown out cars, and various other debris. The tall buildings, or the ruins of what were buildings, were all riddles with bullet holes and broken windows.
As they moved, they tried to have somebody looking in every direction, so they would be harder to ambush.
After half a mile of stomping the pavement, they were close to their destination. As they came to a corner of the building at the end of the block they were on, they slowed down and tried to keep quiet. The cracks and pops of rifles were almost deafening now. The man up front, the man too young to smoke, but did, poked his head around the corner. There they were. The G.I. Joe?s, United States Army soldiers, that had squad four pinned down. They weren?t facing the man, they were preoccupied with shooting.
The young man pulled his head back, crouched down, and used his left hand to sign for the other men to come to him. The older men came over and crouched down in front of the young man and he whispered, ?Jimbo, take that AK you got, put a thumper on it and blow the crap outta Joe when I tell you. I?ll throw some smoke down after you do. After that, we?ll all dump a few rounds, and move in to mop up. Got it??
?Ya, Boss.? They said.
Jimbo cleared his rifle, unloaded and cleared it, popped a blank in the chamber, and stuck a rifle grenade on the spigot at the end of the barrel.
?NOW?, yelled boss.
Jimbo leaned around the corner, and launched his grenade into the group of soldiers. He got at least one definite kill, the man it hit, and at least wounded a few of the four others that the blast knocked over. The young man threw a smoke grenade out, and it quickly filled the street with smoke. They then moved into the street and fired a burst or two into the smoke, where they thought the soldiers had landed. They moved into the smoke.
Almost immediately, one of the men armed with a PKM, Gunner, stepped on a wounded soldier. He smashed is head with the butt of his guns stock. All of the other soldiers were already dead.

Welcome to San Francisco.
 
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"A few of them are dressed in ?surplus? ARMY urban camo, the rest aren?t."

No flame, but this statement begs the question in my mind, "Well, what ARE they wearing? Jeans? Leotards?"

I'd suggest: "A few of them are dressed in military black/gray/white urban camo, the rest wear a mix of jeans and t-shirts under dirty flak jackets, or a mix of civilian clothing and BDUs."

I do like they way it starts out fast, and "traps" the reader with the "Welcome to SF" line.

Noah
 

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Spell check. Writeing=writing. :wink:

Nothing will throw me out of a story quicker than misspelled words.
 

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Dieter122 said:
dalesimpson said:
Spell check. Writeing=writing. :wink:

Nothing will throw me out of a story quicker than misspelled words.
most definitly, when there is ever a mistake that is easily caught by the reader, it screams first draft....

the other thing that turns me off when reading is false/incorrect info and data
YES!! If you have a 1949 made AK with, but with "Factory PLUM" furniture, you will DIE! DIE!
 

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Q-gunner2 said:
Dieter122 said:
dalesimpson said:
Spell check. Writeing=writing. :wink:

Nothing will throw me out of a story quicker than misspelled words.
most definitly, when there is ever a mistake that is easily caught by the reader, it screams first draft....

the other thing that turns me off when reading is false/incorrect info and data
YES!! If you have a 1949 made AK with, but with "Factory PLUM" furniture, you will DIE! DIE!

LMAO!,...easy killer!

but like the others said if your going to get into details,..get into details,...the spelling i can live with as this is not the final version.

the first part of the opening sentance made me think of a old western saloon,..but actually came out pretty good,...i think the only way it could hook you faster was if you opened with the other squad and the suck as situation they where in when they called to the boys in the building.

either this is a book for red dawn II or something about the lame ass cali gun laws,..like the gov. stepping in to disarm everyone.

being a recently discharged combat vet,...i dont like my old team getting fucked up in the first chapter,..but now they have been,... i want to know who got them,.. and i want to know how many GI boots get broken off in there ass before they die,.. so yeah i probally would keep reading it.
 
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