Scratch

Maybe you could add more description. By that, I would describe the characters and setting, how the main character felt, etc. But other than that, I am drawn into this book, and I want to hear more.

Done!

I'll have you know my name is COPYRIGHTED. *shoots you in teh head*

Bump.

I want to know who wants me to write a sequel when this book is finished.

Yes
Scratchthatguys
No
None

So what do you like?

I like the story and the speed, but maybe some more explanation? 

Scratchthatguys wrote:

No, this is not to discuss WW3.

This is a book I'm writing.
This is actually a fresh and new thing I'm writing, and it's not based on anything.
'Cept wars.

I wrote:

Chapter 1 wrote:
     I was looking for an automatic of some sort, but the only machine gun my family owns is a Hello Kitty gun my 18 year old sister owns. I loaded some pink BBs into the machine gun, and walked over to Hayley's house.
     Jim was waiting for me. His knives were sheathed, and he held them over his shoulder. When we heard a cannonball hit the pavement, we got ready to fight. Hayley unsheathed her sword, and then all hell broke loose.
     I got on top of the roof, and shot an enemy guard. "One down, nine to go." I said, and then got stabbed with a rifle. I kicked him, and he fell of the roof, but not without leaving some supplies and and a welcoming gift. The smoke grenade blew up, and then the flare and light grenade.
     It was five seconds before the shrapnel grenade exploded, so I jumped.
Jim looked into my light blue eyes and saw the cut on my face and the blood in my long dark brown hair with red dyed at the tips.
I saw Hayley with blood stains in her blond hair, and both Jim and Hayley had both a cut on their face and a bloody arm.
"Let's call it a day. I'm first watch." I said, and walked to the old tool shed.
     I was the first to fall asleep, and to wake up. I was eager to fight with my new R.F.M., or Remote Firing Missiles. I planned to set it into orbit and then re-enter the atmosphere and lock-on to the enemy base. The only problem was re-entry.
     I headed back to Hayley's house, planning a battle strategy inside my head.
I decided to cook breakfast, and I made some pancakes and bacon, with some sausages.
"Bacon! Sausage! By the way, did you make burritos?"
"You knew I wouldn't forget."
"Thanks. Can I have more, because... This is the best burrito I've ever eaten!"
"I love that song! Wha—?"
An explosion can be heard in the distance.
"Take cover! It's a Molotov Cocktail!"
It explodes, and dust fills the air.
We duck down, and the area in a 5-mile radius gets charred and burned.
I walk out from the basement, covered in ash and dust, grinning.
"Slowed the explosion. Would've killed us all."
"Thanks. I think..."
I turn, and realize the damage.
Items are thrown across the now wasteland used-to-be garden, park, and house and apartments.
Smoke rises, and the ground shakes.
"Jump!"
We all jump and start running.
"This is almost worse than the—"
I fall down to the ground, coughing.
"World Trade Center."
We had heard news that the World Trade Center were going to be rebuilt.
They had completed the North and East buildings, made of steel that can withstand many, many, many degrees of high temperature.
"It's being rebuilt. All that we can do is hope that the nation can be rebuilt with it."
As I reach the small door, I open it, crawl out, and faint from smoke inhalation.
Jim grabs me, and lays me in his wagon and pulls me along.
Hayley worriedly puts on her asthma mask and her dad's goggles.
She sees that the ground has been charred, and sees that every building in 5 mile radius is not standing. Every building in a 10 mile radius is damaged and charred. But every building beyond is either perfect or damaged and shaking.
"This is bad."
"Big understatement."
"Shut up."
"Okay, okay! Well, I'll take first watch."

It's all I have written. I want to know your likes and dislikes, and what you want to be improved.

Reopened à la request of the topic owner. 

Ah, there really is one.

Ta-Da.
The sword?
And it's a family antique.
Also Hello Kitty.

Last edited by Scratchthatguys (2011-03-21 20:27:50)

They were smacked with a rifle.

Scratchthatguys wrote:

They were smacked with a rifle.

Why wouldn't the enemy shoot him? They are out to kill, aren't they?

Scratchthatguys wrote:

The military does it when in close range. And it's silent, it's a rifle with no silencer. Do they even have silencers?
---
I need ideas.

It's an open attack, I doubt there's a need for a silencer.  I don't think a rifle can even have one.

And the military does that when they have bayonets, which are hardly used anymore.  Now you either still shoot him or draw a combat knife.  After all, why hit him with the rifle if it has absolutely no effect on the protagonist?

(I'm not trying to be too critical though I am, I'm just trying to help make your book more believable)

Last edited by Kileymeister (2011-03-21 20:49:00)