For other places where you can see the picture to your left, visit Super Amateur, a mostly picture gallery.
WANTED: Proof-reader
NaNo Novel, rough around the edges, some more offensive material may be removed before reaching your virtual hands.
RETRIBUTION
Will be added as collaborator on (hopefully) epic completion of Permanent Edition. (If I decide to do it.)
Also, plenty of good karma. I don't know where I stand in the universe, but you'll probably get enough karma to buy a living room set, say three overstuffed leather recliners and a coffee table. That heapum big karma!
Oh yeah, and you get to read a novel. So, say you have some important work to do, and somebody comes by and says, "Hey, shouldn't you be filing our taxes about now?" Then you'll be able to say, "Gee, I'd love to, but this novel isn't gonna read itself. This is our new living room set I'm trying to read here!"
Please note: "karma" is not slang for money. You will not be paid, unless you accept peanuts and I can figure a way to mail them to you.
TITLE
Rock and Robots
PLOT
Rock and Robots
EXCERPTchosen randomly from infinite gems:

I used to play pretty well, actually. Lead in a band for five years. Of course, we weren't really active and touring and all that stuff. It was just sort of "hey, let's jam." No one wouldn't say yes to that. I thought we were actually pretty good. We went to a recording studio once and they put a metronome in front of us, and none of us really used those things. That hurt. Kicked us out on the curb, they did. We still jammed after that, but we didn't consider ourselves a "band" anymore. That'd be too much work.
God, if I knew then what I knew now. Yes, please God, grant me the power of time travel. I promise I won't harm any butterflies.
I opened one eye, looked up. Just looked for a sign. Concentrated hard,
squinted, grunted, clicked my heels together, the whole bit. Nothing happened.
I shook my fist at the sky. Or, the ceiling I guess, but I know God's not
hiding in the HVAC vents or the subceiling or anything. Otherwise he would
smite me.
My father was right, I said, eyes fixed on the ceiling, but symbolically, the
sky. My father was an atheist.

Your Mission
Basically, I'm looking to know how good this is, and what I should fix. Areas to focus on are primarily the characterization and plot realism (that is, how badly did I screw up describing paintball, London, the real estate business, etc.). I already know it's rife with grammatical and spelling errors, but if you could tally them, up, that's cool. I mean, only if you want to. Like, if you're the kind of grammar Nazi that tells strangers that their last sentence ended with a preposition. (Well guess what, weirdo, it's not a preposition, it's part of the infinitive. Kind of.) The main problem I see is consistent tense, but I won't worry you with that either.
The last proof-reader was never heard from again. I'm sure that's irrelevant. Just thinking out loud here, really.
Almost forgot, look here for more details.

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