I'm considering writing a book. I have this idea. It's probably stupid but, I was motivated by it enough to hammer out 5 paragraphs. Which for this guy takes a strong urge. I'm open to suggestions, shaming, unwarranted belittling, the whole 9 yards. I just want to improve it and maybe write some good fiction. It's rough, I plan to change it. I just thought I would be honest about it and show it raw. Rather than make a bunch of edits and find out it still sucks. Thanks so much in advance. Chapter 1 A passing siren on the road outside forced Jacobs wakeful return. As the siren faded into the center of town, he reached for the end table. The phone said 9:30am. The sunlight coming in through the blinds agreed with its claim. He glanced at the table, then to his left, and then the TV. The attack continued. The significance of which came second behind the urge to urinate. He rushed to the bathroom and relieved what must have been going on for awhile. The memories came rushing back. The first reports. The violent, shaky, out of focus images of explosions and helicopters. The endless amounts of energy drinks. The psychotic, sleep deprived conversations with his friend Eric. Predicting who's army our west coast belonged to now and what comes next for people like the two of them. Four days it went on. Back and forth. Barely competent enough to form opinions let alone make serious plans. Both slipping in and out of concious thought. Eventually they worked out shifts, one would sleep, the other would watch for news until the other was too tired to go on. Jacob tried to listen to the TV from the bathroom but couldn't. He flushed and paced into the living room to get a better grip on what was going on. After hearing enough to know they haven't missed anything, he went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee. While the water began to sizzle, Jacob eased back a shutter on the window, and peeked outside. Still dead. The town of Lebanon, Indiana was never exactly lively to begin with, but not a single car passing by on the main road outside would be enough to tell even the ignorant that something was up. He let the shutter fall, and walked back to the living room. "Hey wake up man." Jacob said, looking towards the couch. Eric had fallen asleep during his shift to watch for news. He swore to Jacob the night before that he could stay awake, that he had done similar things in the marines and that Jacob could 'sleep confidently.' It took a moment for Jacob to process that he wasn't heard. "Hey! Motherfucker!" He exclaimed as he punched Eric on the leg. At the last second. Right before contact. He realized what he had done. Eric dazed to life, quickly grabbed Jacobs wrist, twisted his arm and began to yell "Have you been in a war?! Answer me dick head, have you?!" Through whines of pain, Jacob barely managed to speak. "No man! Please! This really hurts! I've never been in a war and I'm sorry for that!". Eric let go, still shaking the sleep from his eyes. Jacob looked at the floor and held his arm. "I know you're a vet. Afghanistan was hell and hell followed you home. My bad, I wasn't thinking." Eric began to yell again. "Well maybe you consider the circumstances before you wake up a man who HAS been in one! Also. In case you haven't noticed, you're in a war right now. We got hundreds of thousands of god knows who on our soil, and they'd all love nothing more than for us to slip into our one piece pajamas and take a fuckin' nap! Next time you wake me like that, I'll beat your ass on principle alone." He was out of air but still continued to try. His face began to turn red and his voice began to weaken. He coughed and cleared his throat. "You hear me bro?!" Jacob grimaced as he rubbed his shoulder. "I get it, my bad. You really scare me when you get worked up like that. I get it though. Loud and clear." He stared at Jacob while his vocals recovered and the red left his face. "Good." Eric said. "Now what'd I miss?" Jacob stood and lit a cigarette. He started pacing the room still rubbing his shoulder. "Well. We didn't miss much. Best I can tell, everything is just about the same. I mean, they're still looping the same video." An older looking gentleman was on the TV. Standing in a hologram typed animation, pointing and elaborating on the specifics like a meteorologist explaining the weather. The hologram animation showed a line of division running north to south with red or blue on either side of the United States. From eastern Washington, to Albuquerque. Red towards the pacific. Blue towards the Atlantic. The line had a curvature, with more red stretching farther east in the south, but not so much in the north. There were emblems of tanks, jets, and soldiers. The headline read, 'America Under Attack!' The ticker at the bottom read, 'Although not much is known about the attacking forces, we do know that they are all well armed and are extremely dangerous. Do NOT attempt to fire on forces of foreign origin. Remain calm and stay indoors if possible. America is under attack.' "This stuff is ridiculous man" Eric scoffed. "We don't need an animated birds eye view of what might not even be completely accurate" Jacob leaned against the back of the sofa. "Meh. It helps for people who prefer explanation through representation. Rather than the other way around. Even the simple folks need to know where the lines are man." He tapped Eric's shoulder and offered the cigarette to him. "We said we would piece em from now on. You want it?" Eric was quick to indulge. "Yeah. Is hologram-but not really, a necessary means of representation though? It's been four days. Shouldn't they be taking it more seriously?" "Well" Jacob hesitated as he walked back into the kitchen. "It's weird to me too. It gets the information out there in a way most can understand. Either way man, were as ready as we can be. Wouldn't you agree? We got preps, rifles, bullets, enough water to drown an elephant." Eric extinguished the cigarette as he exhaled a thick column of smoke. "Actually I think they can swim man." Jacob returned with two cups of coffee "Wise ass. You want some? Mighty long days we've been having lately." "I could use some. You didn't use the freeze dried did you?" Eric said, standing up and cracking what seemed like every bone in his body. "No, we're gonna burn through the good stuff first." Jacob said, handing Eric his cup and holding his own up with a smile. "Well. It's all uphill from here brother." Eric grinned and raised his cup, "From here on, the hill is whatever we want to see it as." They both sipped impatiently. Both needing more caffeine than the sipping allowed. Eric lowered his cup. "Alright. We have everything on an inventory list. All food, water, clothing, bullets, hide preps, open preps, packs and smokes are accounted for. Now we just need to figure out when we should leave this shitty apartment and where we're going." "Don't you remember dude?" Jacob said, chuckling over the rim of his coffee cup. "We worked that all out the other night. Apparently we need to go to northern Canada and make a fortress out of sawdust and frozen water." Eric scoffed and said "Leave it to you to come up with some shit like that." Jacob mimicked Eric's scoffing sound and said "No, my friend. You pitched it when you accidentally turned it to the 'marvels of modern history'. Remember? They were gonna build a ship with it.."Oh yeah." Eric laughed and began to look the ceiling over "Maybe if things get bad enough, but seriously. I think we should set up a fire base. Trying to call this a castle worth defending would insult my years of experience and put us both at risk. This place has cracks. Cracks get you killed." Jacob took a liberating gulp of coffee. He thought for a moment, accessing his mind for nearby potential fortresses. "We should hit up the business park for a warehouse. We both used to work at EMIP. It's a weekend, the most we'll run into is a single security guard. Or no one at all. We have info on it before we try for it, which puts us ahead." Eric looked stunned. "You know." Eric said. "That actually sounds like a good plan. EMIP might not have the best line of sight so we might have to try elsewhere in the business park." Jacob hesitated, he had been thinking it since the start of the attack. "We need a second vehicle. We have too much for my SUV. Patrick has a pickup, a big one. Maybe we should go ask him to saddle up with us. He was in the Navy you know." Jacob tried his best to brush it off as any old question. Eric was quick to respond, "Yeah he does have that anchor with him doesn't he?" He chuckled. "Man what does she weigh, 300 lbs? I would rather make separate trips than take the hit on gas mileage, food, water, aid, or protection." Jacob scoffed, "Shes a heavy PERSON, not an anchor. Patrick has combat experience too. They are in love and have a decent truck, separate trips risks half our gear. Why not just take it all at one time?" Eric set down his cup and walked towards the bathroom. He said "You and I both know that you're a big softy Jacob. You are using your sympathy to find logic. Which isn't a bad thing, but it can turn into a bad thing. I don't know where you heard he has combat experience. He told me he flew ferry missions during desert storm but not much else." Eric turned around at the bathroom door, leaned against the sill and continued, "If they slow us down too much, we have to leave them. It's what we agreed on before this thing started, it's the only way to ensure we survive. I have to hold you to that. Go ahead and go ask him, assuming he's still next door. One trip is making more and more sense to me anyways." He shut the door. Jacob felt a small victory under his skin. He slipped on a hoodie, lit another cigarette, opened the front door and shut it behind him. The air was cold for an Aprils day. Church bells were off somewhere ringing, wind was hitting the trees above with force and the street was without a pulse. He went up the porch and knocked on the door. As he waited, he could hear a distant car approaching. It was a minivan. It zipped by and was out of sight quickly. The door swung open, and there stood a man, with a wife beater tucked into his jeans. He had bloodshot eyes and an overgrown beard. He reeked of alcohol and leaned against the door sill for support. "Jacob. How are you?"
not too shabby, it needs some cleaning up and what exactly was going on with the PTSD dude when he woke the other dude up? It is confusing as to who was the PTSD dude. Some nice details but eventually you've got to introduce the setting the story takes place in. If your looking to open by making readers wonder about this war, it worked for me. I wouldn't stay indoors just because the TV told me. Personally, I'd have bugged out at the first sign of such things.
Either way man, were as ready as we can be. Wouldn't you agree? We got preps, rifles, bullets, enough water to drown an elephant." Eric extinguished the cigarette as he exhaled a thick column of smoke. "Actually I think they can swim man." <--- these little details are useful to flesh out characters.
Eric is a veteran of the war in Afghanistan and is deeply affected by what happened to him over there. The war almost seeming to follow him home is an interesting way to show PTSD in the type of environment that created it. I planned to flush out all the details eventually. Their located in the Midwest somewhere which is why they haven't bugged out yet. I just started the scene as it played in my head and went with it. Way more positive reaction than I thought. Unexpected things can be cool sometimes. Don't be afraid to be critical too, I want to make it as good as I can. I'll keep you all posted as to how this thing pans out, I've got too many ideas to process. I'm gonna sleep on it. Thanks again.
("...looking good, no I never critic much but I'm reading this and welcome to hipforum too..." went the goblin, adding "...always feel free to rewrite the post if and where you feel it needs doing, for this is like publishing save that it doesn't have all that set in stone fixed rules, btw the hitcount will tell you if it's workout out..." and with that the goblin was off doing the rounds now)
Edited the op. Ran through the first five paragraphs and added three more. If you guys think its worth it, ill continue this on my ipad and won't post more. I'll just accumulate material and will edit it with a friend or something. Like I said before, don't hesitate to criticize. I want to make it better. Tanx.
("...post it up here as it serves you badly if left upon your ipad there..." suggested the goblin in his selfishness now, explaining further "...hitcount is readership where perhaps you could start by posting it here then, then why not repost it again elsewhere edited repeating the process till finally you'll become a polished livewriter known by many around you, alternatively you could just write it on you ipad far away from your readers as you seem to be saying, ah but by the time you return everyone will then be reading someone else in your place...")
Already deep in chapter two. I have momentum now. I'll post a detailed synopsis once I get this whole thing figured out.
Random thought: you should make a character who is like the quintessential prepper. Dude has a bomb silo, guns out the wazoo, canned goods and all that shit. He should die ironically doing something pretty mundane. "bad... bad peaches" moaned Tom. "Well, those Save Mart peaches looked a little dinged up, smelled weird too. I flushed mine so you wouldn't call me out on wasting rations." observed his young squire. "I shouldn't have bought *hack* *gurgle* dented cans... uuuughhhh"
Laughed. So hard. Thank you sir. I'm thinking about including a character like that at some point. I'm into the end of chapter 2 now. I've really got a rhythm going. I've finished a synopsis, but I'm kind of wary to post anything else. Plagiarism is a thing and I care about this project a lot. I've got a plan and am determined for a change, I like it.
