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Thread: 2022 (sample)

  1. #1
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    2022 (sample)

    I don't mind if anyone wants to give me an English lesson but really I want to know if anyone finds this remotley interesting.

    CHAPTER TWELVE
    Audrey II, the Atlantic coast.

    The small fishing vessel bobbed around in the murky waters, waves breaking over it from seemingly every side. It was out here every day, rain or shine. Had been for three generations. The three-man crew stringing lobster pots and marker buoys, trying to ignore the persistent weather, huddled into the hoods of the orange wet-proofs, all of them wearing life jackets.
    At the wheel, the Skipper steered towards the next string in this run. Atlantic spray baptised the windscreen as he headed the little ship into the waves. When the dirty brine cleared he saw a dark shape on the horizon. Ho Hey! he chanted.
    He checked the ships compass and adjusted his steering according to his notes. Within ten minutes of hard charging into the wind and waves they had found their next string of pots.
    The crew were happy, despite the filthy weather and the heaving of the deck. The lobsters were coming thick and fast. Although no longer bound by the DEFRA regulations the captains who live on these waters still willingly regulate catch by size and throw back those lobsters that measured too small or egg-laden females. They live on the waters after all. The dark shape got darker and bigger as they made their way towards it, searching for the next string.
    Big ****in' bitch aint 'er? The voice belonged to Cod, first mate. Best mate.
    Not as big as the carriers but, yep. Big enough.
    That anchor chain is ridiculous! Cod was trying to light his fag which was obviously too wet, he flicked his string wick lighter several times and sighed.
    Here! the Skipper held out his tobacco pouch and a dry lighter.
    Cheers! Cod rolled himself a fag and stared at the steel hulk outside, marvelling at its mass.
    The skipper checked his notes, the compass, made another note in a smaller black notepad and steered accordingly.
    Cod stared up trying to see the decks of the naval ship. He pressed his face up to the windscreen beside the wheel like a child. Big Bastard! he shouted.
    A burst of sound like a fist punched a blaar at them and a voice came over the tannoy. Turn back now or we will be forced to open fire on your vessel!
    The Skipper reached for his bullhorn and shouted his reply into it. An ancient nautical expression, a time honoured claim of fishing waters and territories followed, it went **** off, wanker! We got pots here!
    Again the tannoy barked its sensory assault and the voice said Get your stuff and leave. You have five minutes then my men open fire!
    Right boys, you heard him. Haul 'em in! Cod shouted as he left the wheelhouse and strolled onto the aft deck just in time to catch a fresh batch of ocean spray in the face. His cigarette hung limp and soggy in his mouth. He glanced up at the clouds overhead and smiled at God. Bastard. he muttered.

    Midshipman Bates, duty gunner, slid the light machine gun along the handrail into position, locked it in place with a lever and trained it onto the little yellow boat bobbing around in the waves. He wondered exactly why someone would choose to go to sea in such a small, puny craft. It was tempting fate being out here in that thing. It was bad enough aboard this big old beast. In that tub it was more like certain death. He studied the working fishermen through the gun sights knowing full well what would happen to them if he should pull the trigger. This L.M.G would punch holes as big as a fist through timber, steel and flesh alike. Within seconds the Atlantic would swallow them up, leaving a just few blood and oil stains on its tumultuous surface. Not much to show for the lives of four men. Hurry up you crazy little ****s! He said to himself as he watched them work. He would never say so but he kind of admired those guys, everyday they were free to do whatever the hell they wanted and yet everyday they would come out here, in that **** boat. Risking it all for food.
    Fancy that for a life, Bates? A familiar voice said beside him. A life of freedom and danger.
    No, sir! Bates kept his eyes on the target his index finger resting on the trigger guard.
    Crazy aren't they?
    Must be, sir.
    Ever been to Sea on a boat that small?
    No, sir. Just this one sir.
    Hmm? I have, a long time ago. Before all this... he waved a hand at the world beyond the handrail. Puts you in the hands of God.
    Do drop-outs worship God, sir?
    They do whatever they like. They might worship Poseidon God of the Deep for all I care. If the Cap'n gives the order to fire, you turn them into Swiss cheese.
    Aye, sir! Bates did not take his eyes off the target.
    Those crazy idiots down there follow a noble pursuit. the Petty officer patted him on the shoulder as he walked away.
    Hmmph! Noble! Bates spat over the handrail. Inside he agreed, there was nobility in the simple life. And danger, there was always danger.
    Oi! Sailor boy! one of the orange clad fishermen turned his face up to look at him as he shouted. Is it really necessary to point a loaded weapon at unarmed men trying to go about their daily honest business?
    Just doing my job! Bates shouted back.
    That's what war criminals say!
    Leave me alone!
    The orange clad man spread his arms in submission and shouted Hey! You're the one with the machine gun! Cod turned to his workmates and said ****ing dickhead!
    Come on, Cod! Stop fraternising with the enemy and move your arse! the voice came from the wheelhouse.
    We are done here. Go! With the final lobster pot on board they shot a string of freshly baited pots out the back as their little boat bobbed and chugged away from the frigate. A small orange buoy floating to mark the string they left behind.



  2. #2
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    This bad language thing is really pissin' me off! B*astard is a proper word! You are taking liberties with our work dude!

  3. #3
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    I thought you were past that.

    What's this? The first chapter of a novel, short, what? It makes a difference in how it's critted. I scanned it, seeing a lot of Big Mac(tm) adjectives, along with no white space between paragraphs, and those funky spaces after the quote marks. I'll take a longer look if you format it so I can read it.

    Stan

  4. #4
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    Not bad. I not only finished it, I enjoyed it. Alas, I do have one minor nitpick: the man on the LMG wouldn't be a midshipman, although he might be a petty officer. Midshipmen are the Navy's equivalent to a cadet, training to be an officer.

  5. #5
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    Joe, it is so cool that you know that stuff.

  6. #6
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    Well, I am ex-Navy, you know. (Gun Line, '72, and I've got the hearing damage to prove it.) However, that's not where I learned that. I read the Hornblower novels when I was in school and picked up quite a bit from them.

  7. #7
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    Thanks, man. but hornblower come on, master and commander! In 2022 our stripped out Navy will be on skeleton crews that explains midshipman at the gun. It's good to be a god in your own reality. Thanks for your input!

  8. #8
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    Dude? Are you like a teacher or something, I want a critique not a friggin' breakdown of each gramatical mistake. Just say it's child-like **** if that's what you mean, what is a friggin proofreader for? Read it mate, theres a clue it's titled chapter twelve! Is it boring or is it just so bad, tell me!

  9. #9
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    I want a critique not a friggin' breakdown of each gramatical mistake.

    Guess what happens when you post here, Jullian. You get what you get. Deal with it. You don't get to dictate what kind of responses you'll receive.

    With your attitude, consider yourself lucky anyone bothers to read your work and comment at all.

    Dude.

  10. #10
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    Re: 2022 (sample)

    So you're going to dump on an agent if given specific requirements for revisions? Good luck with that. I'm outta here.
    Stan

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