Have this new idea I've been working on. I'm not sure if it will turn out to be a short story, novelLa, or what ... I don't even know what I'm going to call it just yet (though I am toying with something like "Life and Limb") ... right now I am just enjoying writing it. It's been awhile since I've had enough breathing room to write fiction, and I have really been missing it.
I don't really want to give away any big spoilers, as far as what the focus of the whole story is all about. However, I should probably share the fact that the entire story is going to be written as though it was being verbally dictated to a voice recognition device.
I thought I would share the first page or so with you guys and see what some of you think. So, here you go (comments and/or criticisms are entirely welcome ... good or bad ... as long as they are constructive):
VD-M-12001: VOICE DICTATION MODEL
SEATTLE VETERANS HOSPITAL
25 MAY 2065
DICTATED BY: CORPORAL ROBERT SMITHSON (COMBAT DEACTIVATED DUE TO INJURY)
SUBJECT: THE LOUISIANA ENGAGEMENT
ENGAGEMENT DATA:
UNIT: 2ND BATTALION, 6TH MARINES: ARMORED EXO-INFANTRY (350 MEMBERS)
DATE: 1 APRIL 2065
END CASUALTIES: 348 DEAD, 2 WOUNDED
KNOWN SURVIVORS:
CORPORAL ROBERT SMITHSON (COMBAT DEACTIVATED DUE TO INJURY)
LANCE CORPORAL NICHOLAS ENGLISH (DEEMED UNFIT FOR DUTY)
START DICTATION: [PROMPT: PLEASE START YOUR RECOLLECTION FROM THE BEGINNING]
CPL SMITHSON:
Start from the beginning? What kind of prompt is that? [sigh] Fine… let’s just get this over with.
I would have to say it all started on the day that I first signed that [message redacted] contract and joined this piece of [message redacted] army.
Hey! That’s not what I said! What the hell do you mean “message redacted”? What the [message redacted] good are you if you won’t even write what I say, you piece of [message redacted] [message redacted] machine?
Dammit! Stop that you [message redacted] [message redacted] [message redacted] piece of [message redacted] machine! I swear to [removed for religious content] I will tear out your circuits with my [message redacted] teeth.
Wait … what? “Religious content”? Are you serious? Since when does blasphemy count as … [sighing] … you know what? Never mind. You are [correct].
Fudge! I didn’t say correct! Wait … Oh, so apparently you’ll let me say “fudge”? Have it your way. You intel pukes wanna be a pain in my [hind quarters] … then I will be a pain in yours for sending me this fudging machine that won’t even write what I fudging say, you bunch of fudging pencil pushing mother fudgers.
You want me to start from the beginning? Fine. You asked for it.
I was born in Augusta, Georgia … as everyone knows, Georgia is little more than a 27000 square mile bug nest these days. I saw it with my own eyes, during my first year of combat duty. I could hardly believe that once upon a time I’d actually lived in that place … like I said, I lived there and even I have a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that that hellhole was actually inhabitable only a decade ago. Not now. We spent 6 months trying to take it back, block by block, and all we managed to do was wall up enough room for an ops base. More than half of the guys who’d gone through EXO-training with me never made it out. Makes a guy wonder, you know? How’d I get out? Why did the seals in my suit hold, keeping me bug free long enough for that [message redacted] of a lieutenant to finally give us the fallback order from his cushy and safe little aerial command post? Damn, the ground in that place was alive with those damn Junies. Probably still is… hell if I know.
Oh, so apparently “damn” and “hell” are acceptable words … good to know. That “message redacted” bull [message redacted] is getting on my nerves.
Back then, though, my mother [dictation stopped due to irrelevant content]
Why you little [message redacted]! That’s it! I told you I’d rip out your wires with my teeth, you good for nothing piece of
[dictation ended]
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