forum Are you in need of a beta-reader??? :D Look! No further!! or something [CLOSED]
Started by @Kaloobia
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@Kaloobia

Hi! I have some time on my hands (for like a week) and am willing to be a beta-reader for anyone who might need it. Either link me to a shared document of your work, open a private discussion with me (or tell me to do it, it's chill), or comment below if you need a small extract tweaked/commented/critiqued.

(I'm not sure this is is within my rights but I will mention now that, while I am very well-versed in perfect grammar and good character development, I'm close to useless when working on plot, as it's something I still need to work on in my own writing, and I will be of no use to you if plot is what you need help with. So!)

((ALSO I am a stickler for good grammar, so that's definitely something you'll see a lot of corrections for if you choose to let me look at your stuff. Okay that should be all hope this wasn't too long, hit me!))

@ninja_violinist

(sorry this is like three days in, are you still up for critiquing?)
If you have time and are interested, this was a short writing exercise that I was hoping for some feedback on. I was trying to work on the "filtering" technique as well as developing a character with a strong voice (at the expense of grammar at times, unfortunately).
But idk if I succeeded. What sort of vibe are you getting from this? Is it any good?

The process of blood dripping from an open wound is far more fascinating than it should be.
You would think that the sight of dark red liquid rolling down my arm would alarm me, ring warning bells, or at least elicit some sort of active response. Instead, I just sit there in awe, eyes latched on to the little red pearl at the front of the trail, watching as it leads the way down the cliff of my fingernail and promptly leaps to its death down onto the marble floor below.
“Miss?” A guard next to me has apparently lost his nerve. He’s been standing there, unmoving except in his wide pupils which flit along my frame like a hummingbird. I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t know where to look if I was standing next to myself either.
“Yes?” I prompt when he doesn’t immediately continue. The act of speaking alone is enough to break me out of my blood-induced reverie. “Is he ready to see me?”
The guard shakes his head slowly, eyes still flick-flick-flickering until they come to a shaky halt across from mine. “The President is, unfortunately, in the middle of a private conference, and will remain there for quite some time. Might I suggest that you clean yourself up before your meeting?”
I stop to consider the idea. It never really occurred to me that I could clean myself up. Heaven knows I haven’t been able to. One glance at my blood-streaked hand and the ripped trouser leg it rests on, both grimy and slimy and all things unpleasant, tells me that there’s room for improvement. But is it necessary?
That’s the only question I can afford to ask myself these days. Is it necessary? Food is necessary, bathroom breaks are annoyingly necessary, drink is necessary, and success is non-negotiable. Personal hygiene? It hasn’t exactly come up before.
The guard clears his throat. “Let me rephrase that, Miss. I strongly encourage you to clean yourself up before your meeting.”
How long did I take to consider it? Too long, apparently. Maybe the President will be done in the time I take to clean myself up and then I can’t see him as soon as possible and every minute…
“No thanks,” I say, eyes once again fixed on his twitchy ones. Every minute counts. Every second counts. Everything counts and I’m running out of time and they need to hurry hurry hurry.
“Miss, you are hurt.” The guard scratches his head and looks around, uncomfortable. He didn’t expect me to refuse.
“So tell your President to hurry up, and then I can go bandage this,” I say, holding up the arm. At this point it’s turned into a road map, roads in red, tracing the route along my arm that leads from the cut to my fingertips and around and under.
“I’m afraid I’m unable to do that.”
“Then it appears we’re at an impasse.” The words feel strange on my teeth, teeth that I suddenly realise I’m baring, because they’re not the words I’ve practiced for the past months. Mr. President, my people are being slaughtered. I have evidence. Please send help. “Because I’m not leaving this spot until I walk through that door to talk to your President.” I punctuate the sentence with a swiping gesture at the door and he actually flinches.
I’ve seen that flinch before, it’s the flinch that says, “you’re going to hit me”. So I pull back and step back and blink and close my mouth and everything else, like I'm a tortoise retreating into its shell, saying "you scare me more than I scare you". I’m not here to bare my teeth or hurt people. I’m here to get help, to beg for it if necessary, because they need me and I can't fail because they're dying.
“As I’ve tried to explain to you, Miss, the President won’t be out for at least another hour. You will waste more time cleaning up later than now.”
I can’t waste time. Not now, not later, not ever. I want to be here when the President comes out but maybe I can be the one to hurry hurry hurry. “All right then, sir.” The word slips over my teeth, carefully concealed, before I can grasp it. It was a good word to say, though. His teeth are bared but in a friendly way – a smile. “Wonderful. I will summon one of my colleagues to get you and I promise that if the President finishes before you return you will be immediately notified.”
I nod, already calculating the bandage I will need to cover this roadmap. I only have a limited supply, one I’ve used far too much of already, so frugality is key because it needs to last and I can’t waste anything. Can’t waste anything.
Can’t waste time, or resources, or words, because it all comes at a cost and they’re hurting and dying and it’s up to me.

@Kaloobia

@ninja_violinist This is really interesting!! A little difficult to understand certain details, out of context and all, but very captivating, and an interesting portrait of your character. I get the feeling your narrator may or may not be mentally ill, however it could just be an overload on stress and frustration, and the fine line between the two is nicely blurred here. I assume this isn't our modern day universe? Maybe a dystopia, or years after an apocalypse, or an overthrown government that ruined more than it fixed? Either way this makes me want to keep reading haha, and the ignorance of grammar in certain parts was done tastefully the way it sometimes is in literature, to show an infestation of the narrator's stream of consciousness in the writing, the narrator's paranoia and impatience and fear interrupting the clean story they're trying to get across. Also, great decription of the open wound and the compairison to road maps.
Thanks for letting me read, this was super interesting! :) :)

@ninja_violinist

Thank you so much for your kind feedback!
Unfortunately I have no idea what's going on either. I just knew I wanted the main character to be mentally *fragile * (lowkey ill) and the bearer of bad news, and I honestly have no idea what happened. At least I got across what I wanted to, I guess.
(I'm absolutely rubbish at developing plots, so it'll probably fester in some back folder of my laptop for the rest of eternity…)

@Kaloobia

@ninja_violinist (oof same same plot is sooooo hard D: The amound of things I have unfinished because they aren't moving along because there's no tangible plotline……) And you're totally welcome! It was my pleasure ^^

@Paperok

I guess Ill offer this up, I hope its not too weird out of context lol.
50- Exempt
"Jackson!" Zaura rushed to Jackson's side, he was face-down on the sidewalk seemingly motionless. Checking his pulse she rolled him over onto his back, Jackson was matted with dirt and blood. Zaura let out a great breath and sat back, the fighting was slowing down, the streets were littered with debris and corpses. "It's over Jackie," she said running her fingers through his hair "I'm so sorry"

"Whotet!" A few soldiers came from further down the street, Kaylee was with them. "Is he alive?" a medic approached her, Zaura nods and gets out of his way as he looks Jackson over. Kaylee gives Zaura a long look, Zaura felt a respect for that woman, it was hard not to after everything she had done.

"Zaura," Kaylee placed her hand on Zaura's shoulder "thank you." Zaura gave her a smile

"Don't be thanking me-" Zaura noticed Michael in the back of the group, she shoved past them and pulled him into a tight hug. Michael embraced her weakly as Zaura lifted him a few inches off the ground. Breaking apart, Michael huffs

"We won, didn't we?" he says quietly, Zaura nods.

"Yes"

Kaylee tore her eyes from the touching reunion happening behind her as her radio buzzed.

"Bird2 has found Queen Ashley's shuttle, it appears to have crashed" One of the pilot's voices ring through the radio "landing for recon," Kaylee wipes her brow

"Understood" A chuckle escaped Kaylee's lips, they did it.

The pilot landed his shuttle carefully in the bumpy field. The other scouted the nearby area as he stepped outside and approached the wreckage of the Queen's ship, looking over the torn parts he realized that there were two ships.

"What the hell" He circled the wreckage curiously until he found the cockpit and the Queen. "Hey there" She appeared to be alive, though unconscious. I could kill her, he thought, tell them she died in the wreck. He steps closer drawing a knife from its sheath on his breast.

"What are you doing?" Ashley spoke and the pilot froze in his tracks. "Help me" The pilot hesitates as Ashley opens her eyes, she sees the knife. "This galaxy needs me" she struggles a bit but gives up giving her legs a long look. her legs must be stuck, the pilot observes. "You have to see that" She looks deep into his eyes "You have to understand"

"We cant evolve with you holding us down" he is surprised by his own voice. Ashley shakes her head

"My sisters have been killed, a new age is already upon us, fresh minds placed on the thrones of the galaxy, you do not need to kill me when I am willing to accept change!" The pilot looks her up and down assessing her injuries, her legs are pinned under the steering panel. "Help your Queen." The pilot lowers his guard, his mind visibly swarming with conflicting thoughts. His radio buzzes.

"The area is clear, whats going on down there?" The pilot goes for his radio, at the same moment, the queen flinches, the pilot shrugs it off but is shoved to the side by another man who aims his hand at the queen screaming at the top of his lungs

"DIE" there is a burst of condensed blue light from the cockpit, it tears through the man's shoulder and he falls backward. The pilot regains his balance and sees the Queen's outstretched arm, aimed at him. He sidesteps a second blast and whips out his gun pointing it at her. She does not lower her arm.

"I'm sorry," she says "I got carried away, you can put the gun down" The pilot looks over to the man Ashley shot, the blast detached his arm at the shoulder. He looks familiar but is covered with cuts and burns obscuring his face.

"Put that lethal arm of yours down first," The pilot says returning his attention to Ashley. She obliges and turns her attention to her legs

"Help me," she feels up the panel. "I have to address the people" The pilot gives the incapacitated man another look, he is still breathing, clutching the place where his arm was. He was saying something. Ashley fired another blast but much more limited, shaving off the metal and glass restricting her. The pilot knelt down beside the man,

"Kill her, hurry" the man whispered desperately, "kill her!" The pilot looked back up to see the Queen standing over him, aiming her hand at the man. "Kuhrihsuh." The garbled sound echoed in the pilots head, why hadn't Ashley killed him yet? She simply stared at the pilot, hand remained still, she was crying. What is happening? the pilot wondered as he stood up.

"It has always been this way hasn't it." Ashley balled her hand into a shaking fist. "Ever since I rose I damaged this galaxy and torn apart civilization after civilization" The pilot listened, silent as she went on. "I wanted to be something they could never be, I wanted to do what they could never do. To surpass perfection. Why am I faltering now?" She opened her palm and with a primal screech, she fires a blast at Cameron. The blast misses his head by a foot but she somehow doesn't seem to notice or care, she turns and starts limping away. The pilot picks up his radio

"I have the Queen, requesting orders." Kaylee's voice comes over the radio

"What is her condition?"

"She is injured but stable"

"Kill her." The pilot goes silent for a moment watching Ashley limp farther and farther. He looks down to the man,

"I need medical assistance as well, I have a severely injured civilian here"

'Understood, I'll send someone"

"Hurry." The pilot follows after Ashley, he raises his gun and fires once into her back. The Queen crumples and lands on her face. He approaches her as she grunts and squirms on the ground, apparently, he hit a lung. He kneels beside her unsheathing his knife, she looks up at him, her eyes seem so calm it's unnerving. He stares into them for a moment, "You tried your best" he brushes the hair away from her neck. "It just wasn't enough" He inserts the blade into her jugular and leaves it there. He stands and notices another shuttle, some men exit and swarm around the injured man. He looks back down at the Queen of the Galaxy, Ashley Shinzen, dead.

@Kaloobia

(Hello hello I'm so sorry for the radio silence, my only excuse is that I had exams to study for but I am done officially with those now so! Will get through these ^^)

@"Demoness Kneesocks" I will get through your work, if you're still up for it! Expect to see me in the comment section on ao3 :) (If that's okay; if you'd rather I PM you here or something please let me know!)

@Paperok

  • No problem with it being out of context! ^^ This is clearly a victory scene after a tough battle, that much is clear and enough information to go by for an excerpt.
  • One thing that keeps standing out to me is the fact that you a tendency to have run-ons, or whole sentences tacked on to each other with a comma rather than separated by a period. You also switch inconsistently from present to past tense, stick to one, this is clearly all happening in a single time-frame.
  • A good political intrigue! Both sides have valid points, both think they're working for the greater good, and it's a good little twist that jumps into the plot after what we thought was a final victory. I'm curious, is there a reason in particular you left the pilot unnamed? This seems like an important scene, and yet an unimportant character (given the absence of a name) is a vital part of it.
  • Okay never mind, I have deduced that the pilot's name is Cameron, but the point still stands of having him appear as "pilot" for several paragraphs before mentioning his name. Are you trying to show that his military position is what defines his character? That the title is more important than his given name, than who he is outside his job?
  • Fwooooooooooooooooooooo, that's a heavy death scene. Nice to see hesitation (maybe even remorse?) on the pilot's part, it shows that this is a cruel world where nothing is black and white, yet black and white–extreme–decisions need to be made.

All in all an interesting read! Makes me want to know what exactly Ashley did as a ruler that made her worth killing, and whether she really did try her best and thinks she could do well, or whether she's just delusional. Hope this was a little bit helpful!

@Demoness Kneesocks

Awww thank you so much, it´s hard to come by reviews when you´re writing something original. Take your time, your personal life should always come first. I´m just about to finish ch14 either today or tomorrow and I´ll see you in the AO3 comments :)

@Paperok

@Kaloobia Thank you for the critique! I see your points, ill go through and see where I can divide the run-ons into separates same for the past/present tense shifting dunno how I didnt notice.
The pilot was nameless because he is supposed to represent the millions of nameless people that she didn't care about and left to starve, also Cameron is the man who attacked the queen. He is the protagonist and a few chapters earlier he attempted to kill her and ended up having to chase her he crashed his shuttle into hers causing both of them to wreck which is where the pilot finds them. After rereading, I see how this line confused you

"she fires a blast at Cameron. The blast misses his head by a foot but she somehow doesn't seem to notice or care, she turns and starts limping away"

The person she fires at is the guy on the ground, who I call by his name for the first time in this chapter for some reason, that is my mistake.
I appreciate the review! thank you for your time!