[Coat.]

Coat presents:

Peasant BlursThanks to everyone who leaves feeback.








CLICK HERE to start reading or see below for each chapter!

Chapter Number:	Chapter Title (Click to read)
PART ONE	The End
Prolouge	Prolouge
One	Peeping
Two	Sammy's Box of Fun
Three	I Was a Highway Man
Four	Don't Talk Like That
Five	Roger That
Six	Roger That: Part II (Icebreaker)
Seven	The Overpass
Eight	Bottomless Abyss
Nine	Ain't no Grave

Table in progress...

This post has been edited by Coat. on Wednesday, May 22 2013, 10:47

[Mokrie Dela]

i've spotted quite a few errors which suggest a lack of proof reading (i've often skipped that step) but aside from that, this isn't bad. I'm wanting to be given more though, i'm wanting a hook, something that grabs the reader and pulls them in. That's the problem with first chapters, and i suppose that it's hard to write a gripping opening chapter without falling into the cliche of pointless action for the sake of action.

Still, most books i read pose a question in some form, often one the reader says: "Who is this guy" "Why is he doing this" or things like that.

I try to either had a solid discription that puts the reader in the story to a point where they can't put it down, or an action sequence that attracts attention like a punch to the face. This is personal preference, and not everyone will agree with me, but i find that it's this that's missing in this writing. There is no punch that's getting my attention, and i dont feel like im in the story either.

certainly not bad though.

[Eminence]

I like your dialogue. That can be one of the trickiest things to get right, but the way your characters interact feels not only realistic, but revealing. I'm getting so much from the way they phrase their words, the way they react to each other - it's a really good quality.

Unfortunately, the description feels a little more muddled. I'm not sure whether it's the errors or some strange word choices, but the meaning is getting tangled up a little, like it's tripping over itself. Instead of trying to jazz up the prose and make it as detailed and vivid as possible, maybe try stripping it back a little. Just tell us what we need to know - give us the bare essentials of the story, and let your dialogue do the rest of the work. Once that becomes a little more solid, you could try reintroducing some choice words to spice up the prose.

Also, when a character says something, just use "said". Pondered, brushed off, welcomed, assumed - they all distract from it. Just use said. Let the dialogue do the talking, as it has been.

[Coat.]

It was difficult to write this, only because the prologue isn't action packed with explosions and bank robberies. Although, the fighter jets and asthma attack kept the readers alert. Thanks Eminence, it is tricky trying to word out what is going to be said. When I'm writing the dialogue, I try to imagine talking to that real life character and try to get that authentic reply and gesture.

Chapter one is in the process. Trying to work around my cons and pick out the pros to hopefully improve from the prologue. What do you want or expect to see in part one?

[Coat.]

One- Peep

The bed sheets overhang the mattress and a figure stood on his tippy toes who stared out the windows blinds. Not only did Ant wake up to wait for an expected visitor, but his bed sheets were damp. Excitement bubbled in the pit of his stomach every minute he saw a shadow appear at the end of the driveway. Usually, it was a school kid or a morning walker. That was far from the point; he knew how the person was going to arrive.

There was a creek at the doorway, “You’ve been wetting the bed since a child,” his brother said. Anthony turned around with what he saw and heard, “Ross, no need to talk like that,” and there was a quiet sense of awkwardness, Ant continued, “And why aren’t you writing?”
No reply was offered as Ross had disappeared down the hallway and to the front door. Ant looked as his bed with a sense of humiliation before he followed his sibling to the door.

“How do we know if it’s…?” Ant interrupted as he hushed Ross. The door handle shuffled a few times, before a specific knock was followed. They’re eyes lightened with joy. Anthony unlocked the door to see a women standing there who was dressed in a postal uniform.

“Sandra, it’s so good to see you,” Ant said as he welcomed her in.

She handed a loaf of bread and a pile of damper to him, “Good to see you too. It’s great to be working morning shifts,” Sandra heaved her blue jacket off, “Where’s Ross, still writing away,” laughter erupted from the living room. The two hurried into the room to see Ross, cross legged in front of the blissing fireplace.

Ant leaned and whispered, “This morning, he was acting unusual,” Sandra smirked and turned to face him, “He came into my room and insulted me for the first time ever,”

“Isn’t that what normal brothers do?” she asked, “You should be happy for him that he is interacting,”, although it was strangely humorous, it also worried both of them.

“I’ve always taken the fire for granted. When you sit here and watch it, that’s just something different,” said Ross.

“Alright you too, I’m heading off,” she collected her mail bag, “and make sure not to leave the damper in the heat,” she said as her voice mumbled down the hallway. Ant wasn’t completely sure what was going on in Ross’ mind, and he was tempted to take a gaze at what he had been writing. Before he could consider, sounds sky rocketed above the neighbourhood and he couldn’t end his excitement again. He placed the food on the kitchen bench before bouncing down the hallway and locking the house. He slowly breathed and condense oozed from his mouth, into the morning air.

His sneakers pounded again the icy pavement.

“Morning Ant,” said Ringo. The coldness from the wired fence gave him a nasty ice burn which he pulled away in pain. The air seemed dense that morning and everything laid flat. He coughed a few time; he became distracted by the smoke moving by his head from Ringo’s cigar. The man soon noticed.

“Sorry, I didn’t offer you a cigar. Is that why you were coughing, to get my attention,” he exhaled slowly,

“No... Thank you. I’m actually an asthmatic,” Ant said.

He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out an asthma puffer,

“See,” Anthony said.

It came to Ringo’s attention, “My brother. He’s been smoking ever since whenever. I don’t talk to him much anymore, but he’s also been using one of them puffers after he got a chest infection when he was twenty or something,” he sniffed and offered him a cigar.

Ant said, “If I wanted to drown my sorrows in charcoal, I already would have,” but the elder only chuckled and titled his hat towards his face.

It was to be that he had some way, insulted Ringo. It became more ill at ease when the jets stopped early because of shower. Soon, without noticing, Ringo had folded his chair up and wandered elsewhere. The only aircrafts present were the minute Cessna planes which were unnoticeable to the human eye after seven thousand feet.

Ant soon felt like a prayed animal, and an eagle was the watching eye. That’s what it was like living on enemy lines, being a British lad. Paranoia fuelled him to keep moving his feet, all the way home. Paranoia wanted him to feel uncomfortable and hopeless but once he got to his fireplace, next to his pleased brother, all threaten thoughts vanished.

Ant wasn’t exactly sure why he decided to show up at the airport. Perhaps because the guilt he invested after insulting Ringo, or perhaps he just wanted to have some isolation from his unusual brother.

Ant slowly approached from behind and lightly tapped Ringo on the shoulder.

Frightened, he turned around, “Jeez kid, I almost had just had my second heart attack,”

Anthony laughed, and then hesitated, “Ringo, I need to ask you,”

The elder looked up, “Yes, you ticked me off yesterday,” Ants stomach drooped, “But don’t bother, it wasn’t your fault,” he paused, “If anything, It was my fault,” Ringo revealed a small wooden box from his pocket, “I carry it everywhere I go,” he smiled.

The cap popped open and hidden inside were a few toy soldiers.

“These were… are my sons,” he slightly smiled, “They aren’t much but I take them wherever I go,”

Ant knew what he was saying. He was like a son to Ringo. They had really bonded over the last few months.

A small two seated plane flew overhead and landed, “Have you ever wanted to fly a plane Anthony?”

“No, well, yes but I don’t have the know-how,” said Ant.

“Don’t be stupid,” he leaned in, “You just have to learn the A-B-C and then you can do the X-Y-Z,” he said, “It’s like riding a bike. It comes almost as a second instinct,”

Ant interrupted, “The funny thing is, I’ve never rid a bike,”

Ringos’ eyes widened, “Didn’t the folks teach you?”

“My parents are dead,”

There was a long pause which seemed to last an eternity.

“Sorry to hear son,” he said, “Nevermind, you can learn how to fly a plane before you can ride a bike,”

They both laughed for a while. The conversation shortly ended after he lit a cigar and the airport runway was soon covered by a thick layer of fog. Better get home before my vision is completely disabled, he thought.

Ant scuffled down the hallway to hear scribbling coming from the living room. He peeped around the corner to see Ross furiously writing. It wasn’t normal for him to be writing at that phase.

“You alright Ross,”

He turned around with bloodshot eyes, “I’ve been up all morning,”

“What have you been doing,” he asked, “Straining your brain at early times of the morning,”

“No Anthony, I’ve been listening and writing music,” Ross held a small music player device.

“Where did you get that from?”

He hesitated, “The neighbour,” he continued, “I went through the neighbour’s garbage,”

Ant rolled his eyes, “Damn Ross, you can’t be doing that,”

“No, no, no, I found music,” he said, “It were if I was meant to find it,”

Ant asked, “What type of music,”

“The Doors, of course Anthony,”

He held up a tape cover of The Doors album on cosset.

Ant carried on with a nod into the kitchen thinking about Ross’ behaviour. This writing, his insults, this music, snooping through the neighbours trash, he thought. Sandra’s voice came into mind, ‘You should be proud of him,’ Ant couldn’t handle the stress and head butted the wall, putting a hole through it.

Reality hit home. He suddenly imagined if it were a solid wall, not hollow. Ant collapsed on the floor crying as ‘The End’ by The Doors played throughout the house. At shallow times like these, Ant begged his maker to see his parents.

***

A portable fan stood beside Ants bed, blowing onto the bed sheets. It happened again. Not only that, but Ross was asleep, and he had been since yesterday afternoon. He moved over and frowned at his reflection in the mirror. Ant touched his bruised forehead and pulled his way hastily and knocked over a glass of water. It loudly shattered; Ross rolled over and muttered.


His sneakers pounded against the icy pavement.


“Kid, what happened to your head,” asked Ringo, who held an acoustic guitar.

Ant touched his forehead, “I had some trouble,” he said, “I tripped and hit my head,” Ant continued.

Ant quickly glanced at the runway but his thoughts weren’t on watching the planes, rather getting in one and taking control.

“You thinking about flying yet?” asked Ringo.

“I’m, I’m not sure if I’m ready,”

“Hey, you told me you’ve admired planes forever,” Ringo’s voice hushed, “When you were in England,”

“I just don’t feel privileged enough,”

Ringo said, “There is always a first step to something,” he plucked a few strings, “How about we start you off with glider courses to get the feel,” he strummed some chords.

“How long have you been playing for?”

“What this?” he said, “Yes, many years,” Ringo continued, “I’m thinking of getting back into the music business,”

“Give me some tunes,”

"This is a song of my own, that I haven't felt true to perform,"

Ringo smiled and started strumming, “I was a highway man, along the coast roads I did ride,”

The song went on and Ant sat in amazement. That’s how Ant felt sometimes in what he described in the song. A man in many lives lost but is known. Known but is watched. Watched but is prayed. A man of many lives.


Click here to read the next chapter - Foreign

This post has been edited by Coat. on Sunday, Dec 9 2012, 03:53

[Mokrie Dela]

One tip: When you change speaker, have the new dialog start on a new line - i had to read the interchange between ant and ross more than once before i figured it out

QUOTE

“Sorry, I didn’t offer you a cigar. Is that why you were coughing, to get my attention,” he exhaled slowly, “No... Thank you. I’m actually an asthmatic,” Ant said.

I suspect it's happened here.

Also, I dunno whether im having (another!) slow day, but didn't ross walk off down the hallway? Immediately after, ant "hushed" ross. How, if he's already walked off.

QUOTE

“How do we know if it’s…?” Ant interrupted as he hushed Ross.

again, if Ross just "disappeared down the hallway", how can Ant inturrupt, or hush him?


Overall this isn't bad, though i think it does need some editing and proof reading. There's some very minor mistakes (blind’s for example which should be blinds) but i wont highlight them, as every single writer in the world makes those mistakes and i've even see
n published books with them in!

In terms of the story though, I'm not seeing much direction in it. Again, it might be me being slow, but i'm not getting a sense that the story's going anywhere.

But all that said, Dont think i'm knocking it. It's good, but if anything it needs a good proof read and edit, a step that i have to confess to skipping myself in the past.

[Coat.]

PROLOGUE

Salt Lake City, they say it’s the second best to Vegas, with its shimmering salt desert and the inner city glory

The engine of the car blazed. They told me that he would be here, and he should be here.

What are they kidding themselves?

My target came into sight, standing unknowingly on the street corner. A little on the acceleration will do.

The city is old and brittle and stands on what is left of society today and nothingness of tomorrow.

Quickly, pull off the acceleration. What is he doing. Does he know we are here.

The unknown eye barely recognises the cities existence but let alone anyone living in it. Where is god when the claws of the crow burrow into your flesh while the world continues their lives on ant mode?

Might as well put the car in park, he's standing there without a clue. He's now looking down at his mobile, and I being watched?

Why was he born in the misfit of generations, where mistakes are always found but the miracle crawl away?

Great, he's moving onto the road. Push on the acceleration and wait for the impact.

Our human senses aren’t as stiff as the average canine for example, but we rather ignore what they see, in which what they are seeing is what humans seek, never grasping the concept, of the truth. Dogs live in the present always, while us humans never live a day without remembering the past.

"It's done,"



An axe divided the block of wood as Ant swayed it to and thro. The coldness of the dawn got to him and he quickly scavenged the wood before he entered his house. Inside, seated at the table, hunched over, was his brother writing. He never perturbed asking his younger brother on what he was writing, as he kept his creativity left inside a mug.

“Thanks for fetching the wood,” said Ant as he took his jacket off, “It’s getting colder and colder even living in the middle of the desert. It’s a joke, and these scientists say global warming is an issue,” Ants brother brushed off.

Ant bent down to light the fire and was eager. Soon, the room was lightened with warmth. The disturbance of the light and the powerfulness of the fire reminded Ant of the sun. It was man’s source to live but in random events, it viscously turns on you. Wherever you are, stuck in a barren desert for months or even blinded by its rays on a faraway battlefield.

The forces of gravity turned on Ant as he knocked over the swelling pot of ash. Everything was putting him on, edge including his brother whose emotions were bare,

“Ross, I just tipped over the ash tray,” but ignorance followed.

God only knew what he was writing but it must have been interesting.

He pounced up at the wall clock, trailed by the shuttering of the jets as the house quivered. Ant gripped his coat before he charged out the door onto the sidewalk and cupped his hands. Slowly, he blew to warm himself as his eyes took off into all directions. Whenever the jets were in preparation, Ant would race down to the railing of the airport and watch in amazement. His sneakers pounded against the icy pavement but his sights were set on the timing. Long strides were needed to keep his heart rate at tune. His heart jumped a beat when he beheld the aircraft that powered over the early morning neighbourhood.

A gent sat on a fold out chair, leading the railing, “Anthony, just in time,” the man welcomed, “Ringo, are you here at the crack of dawn to watch these machines?” he assumed.

Ant lunged to the wired fence and prized the roars from the sky in oar. He never distinguished the exact backstory of Ringo he was certainly timeworn enough to have fought in any past wars, but that topic descended from Ant’s mind as the F-18 Hornet lithered onto the runway. Burnt rubber from the landing flogged past the wing of the airstrip into their direction. The smoke triggered his senses to smear and a saliva lump sat in his throat that he swallowed.

“So, how’s Ross been?” Ringo pondered.

Anthony paused, “You know, he’s… he’s been writing,”, “Writing, like scripting a book?” he questioned. Ant turned as he rubbed his eyes to clear vision, “You know what, and I have no clue. Ever since we moved from Cornwall, he’s been real anxious,” but there was no reply.

If there was, it was distorted by the trebles of the aircrafts. They together, out looked to the airdrome until a thought clicked in Ants' mind and he was off. Gone before he had arrived,

“What’s the rush,” Ringo called without turning.

He continued running, out of breath to reply and followed his tracks home. The morning chill pierced his skin and the sweat from his blood slumped towards the ground. Ant’s lungs began to close; he knew that if he was out any longer that he would have had an asthma attack. The rattling of the keys in his pocket faintly distracted him from his mission. Without knowing, the keys vanished from his pocket. Ant regretted leaving the house unlocked with Ross home alone with guilt.

Out the corner of his eye, lay the keys to the house in the middle of the lonesome intersection. Without doubt, he ran towards to retrieve the chain. Fazing himself but forgetting to brace himself as his teeth gripped and his heart stopped, his head turned and the horn of an incoming car warned. Ant dropped onto his knees in which he kneeled only a foot away from an SUV. The luck that the car stopped was a miracle. No, a coincidence. Ant could have died that day, both from asthma attack, a powered SUV and the most relevant... from cowardliness. The fact that he left the homeland to live on enemy lines, was a coincidence.

The car horn beeped again and reality hit Ant,

“Kid, you seriously must have something wrong with you. Move,”

The sports car passed the frightened Anthony.

Just again, that thought had hit him. He got from his knees after he received the loose keychain and dashed back to the residence. Shaken, he worriedly wobbled the keys into the lock before the door busted open.

“Ross!" Ant blubbered, "Are you okay. I left the house unlocked,” He galloped through the house to find his brother where he last saw him. Innocently hunched over the table, writing. Paranoia seeped.

End Prologue

Click Here to read the next chapter - Peeping.

This post has been edited by Coat. on Sunday, Dec 9 2012, 03:52

[AceRay]

I've just read them both and, I can say, this is pretty good. There's a few grammar mistakes here and there, like spelling and tenses, but I'm going to assume English isn't your first language, so I'll let it slide.

You're building it up slow, introducing us to the characters and getting their characteristics. Anyway, I really hope you continue this, its got me hooked. Its kind of got me interested whether Ross has a mental illness or something, because he's been acting strange. So, yeah, keep it up and iron out those grammar issues!

[Coat.]

Great feedback again. And yes, English is the only language I speak but I guess I lack showing it when I write.

You totally get what I'm doing. I want to slowly introduce the characters and give you a snapshot of their characteristics. The question about Ross having mental issues, if you're truly hooked, you continue to read it and find out.

If you haven't noticed, I am also introducing the story slowly as well. Next chapter, I'll proof read it several times. I hope I've got some people attracted to the story.

[AceRay]

QUOTE (Coat. @ Saturday, May 26 2012, 22:35)

The question about Ross having mental issues, if you're truly hooked, you continue to read it and find out.

I guess I feel that way because he acts strangely about the fire and Ant seems to be constantly worried about him. He's probably the most interesting character you've got here, imo.

[Coat.]

QUOTE (AceRay @ Saturday, May 26 2012, 09:39)

QUOTE (Coat. @ Saturday, May 26 2012, 22:35) The question about Ross having mental issues, if you're truly hooked, you continue to read it and find out. I guess I feel that way because he acts strangely about the fire and Ant seems to be constantly worried about him. He's probably the most interesting character you've got here, imo.

The character that has something to hide, also seems to be the most interesting. I'd tell you my favourite character so far, but that'd distract the reader. I've looked over 'Peep' and have found the errors. I was actually writing that late at night while my Dad had the television on, (listening to sporting commentators' scream) but like I said, I'll proof next time.

[Vercetti27]

I noticed some gramatical mistakes, but the language you use is good, a good variation and you do paint a decent picture. judging from the flag on your profile english isn't your first language so you've done a great job.

[Coat.]

QUOTE (Vercetti27 @ Saturday, May 26 2012, 11:46)

I noticed some gramatical mistakes, but the language you use is good, a good variation and you do paint a decent picture. judging from the flag on your profile english isn't your first language so you've done a great job.

Thanks, but like I said, I speak English. I just liked the look of that flag so I think I'm going to change it to where I'm from.

[Coat.]

~~~

This post has been edited by Coat. on Sunday, Dec 9 2012, 03:45

[Coat.]

~~~

This post has been edited by Coat. on Sunday, Dec 9 2012, 03:47

[Linki]

The dialogue and interactions between the characters are so well done. It feels authentic.

When you are describing things and what's going on in the story, it almost reads as if you've written them exactly as you thought them out. That means it can range from rhythmic and clever, to confused and jumpy. I'm not saying you should stop your style, but rather just proofread after you've finished. That way, you can keep the great describing parts and fix up the grammatical mistakes and such.

[AceRay]

QUOTE

the airport runway was soon covered by a thick layer of fog.

Maybe they live in Silent Hill. Certainly explains a lot.

QUOTE

“You alright Ross,”

This should clearly be a question. Ant isn't making a statement, asking a question, even though it doesn't start with What, How etc. It should be "You alright Ross?"

Yeah this was pretty good, its slowly paced but that just keeps up the tension up. There's a storyline coming along now with Ant and Ringo and that's making me interested. Can't wait for the next piece

[Coat.]

Two- Foreign


“You can’t talk like that around here,” said Sandra, “Work on your accent,”

Ant shrugged, “I’ve been practising on my accent and I don’t care anymore,”

Ross thought poorly of this, “If you don’t keep it up, you’ll end up in the jail house Ant,” Sandra looked at Ant.

“What’s the point,” he threw his arms in the air, “We shouldn’t even be here in the first place,”

“So you’re telling me you’d rather be over in England were ash falls from the sky and the snow is red,” Sandra yelled.

Ant said, “Perhaps you forgot one thing, the reason I moved here,” Ross looked startled, “I didn’t want to move here in the first place, and you telling me how serve it is over there is wrong,”

“I’d have to agree with Ant,” added Ross, “We don’t even have television. How are we suppose to know what’s happening in the world,”

Sandra began to walk down the hallway towards the door, “It’s both for your own good,” she walked outside to the driveway with her hands on her hips, “You coming Anthony, Ringo will be waiting,”


Ant dazed out the car window up at the telegraph poles and the lined trees along the pleasant streets. He then turned his head into Sandra’s direction; behind her, the airport barbed fence. He wasn’t happy with her attitude, and he wasn’t happy with what his own attitude was. Ant was simply upset with his life.

“You ready for your glider course?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty positive,” Ant lied. The entire morning was terrible and he was starting to get tired of listening to the same album of The Doors over and over. Better yet, he was anxiously nervous with negative thoughts.

Sandra turned down the street towards the airport gates, “What’s Ringo like?”

Ant had to think, “What do you mean?” he asked.

She looked puzzled, “Like, his personality,”

They quickly approached Gate five, “Quick, stop,” yelled Ant. The car skidded along the cold road to a halt. “This is the place,” he said, “And here comes Ringo,”

Ringo dressed differently that morning. Perhaps it was the orange and blue jumpsuit that gave him that thought. Sandra winded down the window and shook Ringo’s hand, “I’m Ringo, nice to meet you. I’ll be looking after Anthony today as I’m his instructor for his gliding course,”

Sandra smiled, “Yeah, thank you. Look, I’m late for work,”

Ant closed the car door behind him. Before he could close it, she accelerated and the door slammed shut as she sped down the narrow street. Ringo looked over at Ant, standing there motionlessly, “Did you have a bad morning son?” he asked.

Ant slightly grinned, “It was average,”


They had entered the airport gate and began walking across a safe part of the runway adjacent to the fence. Metres down the runway, was a group of people dressed in jumpsuits outside of a hanger. Ant had a feeling that they were heading in that direction.

Ringo gave him a pair of ear muffs, “It gets dangerously loud this close to these planes,”

A jeep was parked in the centre of the runway to pick them up. Inside, sat another youngster who looked about Ants age and the kids instructor. Ringo shook the instructors’ hand, “Nice to see you kicking around John,” said the man. John, a nick name maybe?

“Yeah, I’ll be training this young man here today,” said Ringo.

“Nice to meet you boyo, what’s the name,” the instructor asked, with a strong American accent.

“Anthony,” he said, “But you can just call me Ant,”

The man smiled, “Ant aye. What’s that suppose to mean, you work well with groups?” Ant smiled and looked over at the anxious kid.

“This is Roger, it’s his first time as well,” said the man.

The jeep stopped at the runway intersection waiting for a Cessna 208 to land. Ringo knocked Ant on the arm, “Maybe you can fly one of those one day,” Ant chuckled, only because he couldn’t hear what he was saying with the muffs on. The vehicle stopped outside the hanger and everyone exited. Ant looked at the anxious kid again.

“Roger and his father usually come flying weekends here so he’s familiar with the air space,” the instructor tried to boast, looking at Roger.

“Sir, I’ve been a pilot for 45 years, and have been very familiar with this airport for seven years now,” said Ringo.

“How come I never see you then?” he asked.

Ringo replied, “Simply because I observe from the outside and understand really what matters on the inside,”

The man laughed, “You’re telling me that you sit outside the airport and watch the planes and know the channels and planes which fly in them?” he laughed some more.

“That’s correct,” said Ringo.

Everyone was hushed down and was seated inside the hanger to listen to the leader of this squad. “Welcome everyone. I’m happy to invite everyone on this aviator journey and watch the virgins take their first step into piloting,” the leader went on for a few more minutes before everyone was offered a drink of water and a small snack and then were lead outside the hanger so the instructors could pick the gliders of choice.

“Look at that one, can we get in that one?” Roger said in a British accent.

His instructors face shrunk, “Luckily no one heard that. Speak with our accent, don’t talk like that alright,” he whispered.

Ant didn’t feel so along now. He knew that Ross and he weren’t the only British people living in Salt Lake. Ant trusted Ringo that he’d keep the secret but he wasn’t sure how longer it could hold before the Americans knew their enemy was in their country.

Click here to read the next chapter - Roger That.

This post has been edited by Coat. on Sunday, Dec 9 2012, 03:52

[Mokrie Dela]

i have to agree with everyone now that the dialog is good. But some of the narration and descirption, i dunno it seems to be missing something, but i've no idea what. As mentioned before, I'm still wanting that big question. I'm not asking myself "whats he want" or anything i want an answer to. I am merely observing and feel slightly detatched.

Also you don't always need to say "he said" especially if only two people are talking. I only use "he said" or other versions of it if i, A - want to express how the character has said something (shouted, whispered, lied etc), or B need to inform the reader who is talking "Bob said."

The dialog itself though, apart from the odd grammatical mistake or typo, is good and i can believe the characters saying it.

I agree with Linki though - parts of the description/narrative are brilliant: i loved the bit about "You just have to learn the A-B-C and then you can do the X-Y-Z,” but at times it does feel a bit clumsy.
Proof reading is still a good idea, but on the whole this is a good piece of work. Keep working on it

[Coat.]

I just read a sample of Justice in Flames and I know now, I need a deeper description. Thanks for the feedback as well! Just a quick question, In your Justice in Flames, you have a table layout for your chapters. Is it okay if I replicate that for mine. If so, would you be able to create the chapter table for me. Setting it up looks difficult.