This is the first 3 chapters of my novel.
I would love some critique. Or, just general impressions since I'd like to gauge the effectiveness of my style.
I've never found thoughtful responses to my work anywhere. I hope to find it here.
>Safe from the blue from the irr. And this truck went in it. Safe. Something of red in it back to the blue to the red. This truck and something extra. Listen. The nearby something extras in front of the truck. The man in front of the truck trampled from front to back safe from the blue. And all this while the man scooped shovels of dirt and trampled from front to back. The other and the clay sighed for something of red. The irritant lay in something of red and laughed.
>>The workers whistled, averting eyes. Laboring in avoidance of blue. Filling the truck. Filling it. Oh god, the irritant. GOD the irritant. God help us all, one cried. Throwing down the shovel as eyes gazed. Extraordinary. Extra ordinary. There was nothing ordinary in this man. The irritant, laying in red, laughs and laughs. The blue, he can not avoid the blue. ARE YOU MAD!?
>Days since last accident: 0
>Mumbles about a good man, but nobody lasts forever. The truck is filled, they rearrange, refill the hole that had become just slightly shallower that day. Yellow passes through.
>Chapter 3: Green passes through
>So, look here, I said listen. Right here's the best money guys like us can make, right? So yeah, it's rough work, but what you going to do?
>What you going to fuckin' do?
>It's like, how many though? Not everyone can take it, you know? Digging holes? It's more than that tho ain't it?
>Don't make sense.
>I know it.
>So look, all I'm saying, ALL I'm saying. What are the chances of being THE ONE. You know? It's like, day by day, it's less then one percent. 250 days since the last accident? There be like... you know, a lot of us? So day by day, all I'm saying, it'l like 1 in 10,000 or something. Something like that.
>"Who's paying us?" one clear voice spoke out. "What are we accomplishing digging these dame holes? We dig all fucking year until one of us spazzes out and dies, and then we bury the fucker and start over. What the fuck is that about?"
>Good money, man, though, telling you. BEST guys like us can ever do so it don't matter if one of us gets cau
>Mumbles about a good man
> “Every job I ever worked, there’s a reason for it. Making pizza, or flipping burgers, answering phones, or shit, even digging holes if there is a reason for it. And I’ll tell you this, not once did I ever get paid from someone and not know who the fuck is paying me.”
>Let it go man, just let it go.
>”Fuck this, I quit.” He threw down his gloves. “You sheeple want to keep risking your lives every day, that’s on you.” The door slammed, gazing eyes searched around. Someone should speak now.