This editor will critique your writing

DarJodo 2020-05-14 00:28:14 UTC #21

Your English is quite good and so is your writing skill. Also, interesting story. Nothing particular comes to mind when it comes to weak points. Just keep it up.

Nail 2020-05-14 00:30:46 UTC #22

Thank you. i've started the series about a year ago but abandoned after 4-th episode since my English wasn't quite there. I have experience in writing but in my native language. Not being so fluent in English is frustrating experience.

DarJodo 2020-05-14 00:43:19 UTC #23

The question is, do you need to be absolutely fluent in English to publish in English?

Zaboem 2020-05-14 00:47:34 UTC #24

Wheeeew, you change a lot. This is what I call a hard edit -- a very hard edit. By contrast, a soft edit would be fixing only typos, spelling, and grammar errors; emphasis is placed on preserving the voice of the original author instead of improving anything. It's my iwn terminology that I use when explaining options to a writer.

I respect what you're doing. I even like it, but few authors will appreciate this approach.

DarJodo 2020-05-14 01:07:33 UTC #25

This one always tries to preserve the author's voice and did not think his most recent edit was very hard. Mostly it involved cutting things out to improve the flow. But this is what the back-and-forth is for. In a working relationship, Jodo expects to discuss the changes with the writer and work toward a draft that they find satisfying.

eNVy 2020-05-14 03:35:30 UTC #26

Oh I forgot to mention, but yes every character is named after a book character or author that is connected to the identity of the character. I may end of changing it later, but not sure.

DarJodo 2020-05-14 04:14:15 UTC #27

Khajiit recommends it. Jodo would not like the author of No Country for Old Men to have beef with him.

eNVy 2020-05-14 04:16:13 UTC #28

I mean, to be fair, there is literally nothing that Cormac can do about me naming a character after him haha, he doesn't own the rights to his own name. Also, I highly doubt that he would ever find out.

DarJodo 2020-05-14 04:20:12 UTC #29

Dar'Jodo is not a lawyer, but something something libel case. It is why you generally do not find real people's names in fiction.

eNVy 2020-05-14 04:23:08 UTC #30

Yup, i'm aware of the law. It's not libel, I guess he COULD make a case if he wanted. Then I would just change the name instead of going to court even though he would be sure to lose. (Or maybe i'd go to court just to meet him haha)

It's a minor character anyways (sorry if that spoils anything for actual readers)

DarJodo 2020-05-14 11:49:47 UTC #31

This one is from @k5rakitan:

Joan strained to hear the announcer's garbled words over the clatter of the moving train. Nearly two hours ago, she had boarded BART in her hometown on the other side of San Francisco Bay. She'd transferred to Caltrain in Millbrae, continuing to her boyfriend Marc's city to spend the weekend with him. Given their busy schedules and commitments to other partners, they hadn't seen each other since Marc came to stay at her place and met her husband Michael along with some of her friends three weeks ago.

This Friday afternoon, Marc had invited Joan to meet him at work, telling her to wear something cute. Not one for frills and ruffles, Joan opted for a knee-length navy blue dress with a white floral pattern. The neckline plunged low enough to attract attention without being dangerous.

She glanced at her phone and saw that, unless the train was running behind schedule, her stop was next. She donned her green backpack and slung her purse over one shoulder before making her way to the lower level and waiting by the door. Joan stepped off Caltrain and touched her wallet to a sensor on the platform. Sensing her Clipper card inside, it beeped to record her stop, charging her account for the distance she'd traveled.

Joan tucked her wallet back into her purse and looked up to see Marc. The muscular, broad-jawed Filipino strode towards her on the platform: a king of this urban jungle. Although a mere fraction of a centimeter shorter than him, Joan fell into his arms a quivering lump of woman, the excitement and tension from the past three weeks of not seeing him overtaking her. Her head pressed against his firm shoulder as she steadied herself.

"Calm down. I'm here now. We'll have the whole weekend together," Marc said as he stroked Joan's arms.

After the trembling subsided, she lifted her head and kissed him for as long as he would allow. He laughed, pushed her off himself gently, and escorted her through the downtown area as she fretted about office etiquette.

"We're having a May Day party," Marc explained as if this was all she needed to know. The simple T-shirt he wore with the name of the video game he worked on put her somewhat at ease, but she'd had bad experiences with offices in the past and continued to worry silently.

They entered a recessed door at the base of a three-story Victorian building and ascended a dark, narrow staircase. After passing a room with six casually attired adults playing on their phones around a boardroom table, they entered a gigantic office with an open floor plan. Six rows of white desks with white computer monitors gave Joan a pang of agoraphobia, recalling an internship she'd endured five years ago. She took a deep breath and reassured herself that she could leave at any time. She worked from home now and called her own shots.

Still, what if she said something to get Marc in trouble? Marc had previously told her that he didn't keep secrets about his personal life from his coworkers, but Joan wondered if that meant he'd told all of them about her and their polyamorous arrangement or just some of them. Should she introduce herself as Marc's girlfriend or simply by her name alone? Would they already know her on sight anyway?

Jodo found no particular problems so he simply edited for flow. The edited version is only 87% as long.

Joan strained to hear the announcer's garbled words over the clatter of the train. Two hours ago she had boarded BART in her hometown on the other side of San Francisco Bay. She'd transferred to Caltrain in Millbrae to continue to Marc's city. Given their busy schedules and commitments to other partners, they hadn't seen each other since three weeks ago, when he stayed at her place and met her husband along with some friends.

Marc had invited Joan to meet him at work this Friday afternoon, telling her to wear something cute. Not one for frills or ruffles she'd opted for a knee-length blue dress with a white floral pattern. The neckline plunged low enough to attract attention without being dangerous.

She glanced at her phone and saw that her stop was next. She donned her backpack and slung her purse over her shoulder before making her way to the lower level. She stepped off Caltrain and touched her wallet to a sensor on the platform. Sensing the card inside, it beeped and charged her account.

Joan tucked her wallet back into her purse and looked up to see Marc. The Filipino man was a fraction of an inch shorter than she was, but he strode through the crowd like it wasn't there. People got out of his way without thinking. Joan fell into his arms, three weeks' worth of tension and excitement just melting away. She pressed her head against his firm shoulder as she steadied herself.

“Calm down. I'm here now,” Marc said. He stroked her arms. “We'll have the whole weekend together.”

After the trembling passed, she lifted her head and kissed him for as long as he would let her. He laughed, gently pushed her off himself, and led her through the downtown area while she fretted about office etiquette.

"We're having a May Day party," he said, as if this was all she needed to know. It put her somewhat at ease that he wore a t-shirt with his company's name on it (it couldn't be that bad if everyone dressed that way) but she'd had bad experiences with offices and continued to worry.

They entered a three-storey Victorian building and ascended a dark, narrow staircase. After passing a boardroom where six people sat around the table and played on their phones, they entered a huge open office. The rows of white desks with their white computer monitors gave Joan a pang of agoraphobia. Recalling an internship she'd endured, she took a deep breath and told herself that she could leave at any time. She worked from home now. She called her own shots.

Still, what if something she said got Marc in trouble? He'd told her that he didn't keep his personal life secret from his coworkers, but she wondered if he'd told them about her and their arrangement. Should she introduce herself as his girlfriend? Would they know her on sight?

IsobelLynx 2020-05-14 13:44:07 UTC #32

Will Jodo look over this one? I'll dm you the text.

DarJodo 2020-05-15 10:11:01 UTC #33

This one is from @ivanskilling:

ORIGINAL TEXT

After almost twenty years, the old neighborhood still looked exactly the same as she remembered it. Sandra’s breath hitched as she rounded the corner in her newly rented car.

There it was, her old home.

Identical, quaint, two-story houses lined the road and her house sat at the very end of it. The street was quiet since it was almost dinner-time and so, most people would be indoors. Nevertheless, Sandra brought her car to a slower crawl in case any children were to dart out of the houses. She took her time looking around, noticing the newly tarred road and the abundance of children’s toys scattered in many of the front yards. Her neighborhood had definitely grown in size and by the looks of it, was much better taken care of.

As she neared the end of the street, her gaze was pulled to what was her second childhood home. The white paint was peeling in some places but the house didn’t look as decrepit as she thought it would. There was grass in the front yard - that was a good change. All in all, it looked almost the same as when she had left it.

According to the current land owner, it had only been rented out twice over the course of the years. The previous tenant had taken care of it quite well and so, there wasn’t much need for maintenance. Not many people came to the small town and there wasn’t much demand for housing, so the land owner had been happy to rent it out to Sandra, especially when he found out who she was. Or had been, she mused bitterly.

At least her ex-celebrity status had earned her a discount, she comforted herself. Who knew the land owner would turn out to be a fan. She allowed herself a little smile at the thought of her far-reaching fame.

Slowing to a stop, she turned off the engine and stepped out of the car with her purse. The front gate was not automated, so she dug her hand into the branded clutch bag and fished out the keys. As she fumbled with the lock, not getting the right key the first time, a loud, hoarse voice startled her.

“What are you doing? Are you a thief?”

Sandra looked up to see an elderly woman squinting suspiciously at her through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. Wearing a loose blouse and pants that clung to her thin frame combined with frizzy white hair, the woman resembled a witch from typical childrens’ movies.

“Oh no,” Sandra gave a light laugh. “I’m the new tenant here. Still trying to figure out which key is which.”

Met with no response, Sandra’s laughter trailed off awkwardly. She cleared her throat and extended a hand in greeting. “I’m Sandra by the way. Nice to meet you.”

The old woman eyed her but did not take her hand. “Dina,” she said after a long pause.

“Nice to meet you, Dina.” Sandra smiled as she retracted her hand and wiped it on her short pencil skirt.

After almost twenty years, the old neighborhood still looked exactly the same as she remembered it. Sandra’s breath hitched as she rounded the corner in her newly rented car.

Sandra’s breath hitched as she rounded the corner in her rented car. After almost twenty years the neighborhood still looked like she remembered it.

Jodo switched the sentences because the second has more action and therefore more impact. Changed “newly rented car” to just “rented car” because the context makes the added detail redundant.

There it was, her old home.

Deleted this and also the paragraph break for better flow.

Identical, quaint, two-story houses lined the road and her house sat at the very end of it.

Identical two-storey houses lined the road, with her old house at the very end of it.

The appearance of “her old house” justifies deleting the previous line. Notice that the “quaint” detail moves further down, where it fits better.

The street was quiet since it was almost dinner-time and so, most people would be indoors. Nevertheless, Sandra brought her car to a slower crawl in case any children were to dart out of the houses.

It was almost dinnertime, so most people were inside, but Sandra brought her car to a crawl in case any children darted out of the doors.

If we say that most people are inside, it is not necessary to say that the street is quiet. Also, “slower crawl” is unnecessary.

She took her time looking around, noticing the newly tarred road and the abundance of children’s toys scattered in many of the front yards. Her neighborhood had definitely grown in size and by the looks of it, was much better taken care of.

She took her time looking around, noticing the newly-tarred road and the abundance of toys scattered in many of the front yards. Her quaint little neighborhood wasn't so little anymore, and by the looks of it was much better-maintained.

Jodo feels that this is a more effective use of the word “quaint.”

As she neared the end of the street, her gaze was pulled to what was her second childhood home. The white paint was peeling in some places but the house didn’t look as decrepit as she thought it would. There was grass in the front yard - that was a good change. All in all, it looked almost the same as when she had left it.

As she neared the end of the street, her eyes settled on her second childhood home. The white paint was peeling in places but it didn’t look as decrepit as she thought it would. There was grass in the front yard—that was a good change. All in all, it looked almost the same as when she had left it.

Changed passive voice to active voice in the first line. Used a proper dash in the third line.

According to the current land owner, it had only been rented out twice over the course of the years. The previous tenant had taken care of it quite well and so, there wasn’t much need for maintenance. Not many people came to the small town and there wasn’t much demand for housing, so the land owner had been happy to rent it out to Sandra, especially when he found out who she was. Or had been, she mused bitterly.

According to the current owner, he'd only rented it out twice over the years. The previous tenant had taken care of it quite well. Not many people came to this small town, so he had been happy to rent the house to Sandra, especially when he found out who she was.

Tightened the language, cut out “there wasn’t much demand for housing” because it was over-explaining. Moved the last line to the next paragraph where it fits better.

At least her ex-celebrity status had earned her a discount, she comforted herself. Who knew the land owner would turn out to be a fan. She allowed herself a little smile at the thought of her far-reaching fame.

Or had been, she thought bitterly. At least her ex-celebrity status had earned her a discount. Who knew the house's owner would turn out to be a fan? She allowed herself a little smile at the thought of her far-reaching fame.

“Mused bitterly” is too writerly. Regular people do not do anything so fancy.

Slowing to a stop, she turned off the engine and stepped out of the car with her purse.

She slowed to a stop, turned off the engine, and stepped out.

A more purposeful sequence of actions.

The front gate was not automated, so she dug her hand into the branded clutch bag and fished out the keys.

The front gate wasn't automated so she dug into her designer purse for the keys.

“Branded” says nothing. Either mention the specific brand or just call it “designer.” Also, “dug” and “fished out” bring to mind conflicting imagery. Is the purse full of dirt, or water?

As she fumbled with the lock, not getting the right key the first time, a loud, hoarse voice startled her.

“What are you doing? Are you a thief?”

As she fumbled with the lock, a hoarse voice made her jump:

“What are you doing? Are you a thief?”

Fumbling with the lock generally means not getting the right key the first time. We can infer that the voice is loud. Jodo changed “startled” to “made her jump” because it is better to translate inner mental states to concrete action.

Sandra looked up to see an elderly woman squinting suspiciously at her through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

Sandra looked up to see an elderly woman squinting at her through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

Context makes it clear that the elderly lady is feeling suspicious.

Wearing a loose blouse and pants that clung to her thin frame combined with frizzy white hair, the woman resembled a witch from typical childrens’ movies.

With her frizzy white hair, thin frame, and baggy blouse and pants, the woman looked like a witch out of a children's movie.

The original description was bouncing all over the place. From the woman's blouse, down to her pants, then back up to her hair. A hurried reader might get the impression of a blouse with hair.

“Oh no,” Sandra gave a light laugh. “I’m the new tenant here. Still trying to figure out which key is which.”

Met with no response, Sandra’s laughter trailed off awkwardly. She cleared her throat and extended a hand in greeting. “I’m Sandra by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh no.” Sandra laughed. “I’m the new tenant here. Still trying to figure out which key is which.”

Met with silence, her laughter trailed off awkwardly. She cleared her throat and extended a hand. “I’m Sandra by the way. Nice to meet you.”

Edited for flow.

The old woman eyed her but did not take her hand. “Dina,” she said after a long pause.

“Nice to meet you, Dina.” Sandra smiled as she retracted her hand and wiped it on her short pencil skirt.

The old woman eyed her but didn't take her hand. “Dina,” she said, after a long pause.

“Nice to meet you, Dina.” Sandra smiled as she pulled back her hand and wiped it on her short pencil skirt.

“Retracted”? Sandra was a robot all along! Interesting story though.

EDITED TEXT

Sandra’s breath hitched as she rounded the corner in her rented car. After almost twenty years the neighborhood still looked like she remembered it. Identical two-storey houses lined the road, with her old house at the very end of it. It was almost dinnertime, so most people were inside, but Sandra brought her car to a crawl in case any children darted out of the doors. She took her time looking around, noticing the newly-tarred road and the abundance of toys scattered in many of the front yards. Her quaint little neighborhood wasn't so little anymore, and by the looks of it was much better-maintained.

As she neared the end of the street, her eyes settled on her second childhood home. The white paint was peeling in places but it didn’t look as decrepit as she thought it would. There was grass in the front yard—that was a good change. All in all, it looked almost the same as when she had left it.

According to the current owner, he'd only rented it out twice over the years. The previous tenant had taken care of it quite well. Not many people came to this small town, so he had been happy to rent the house to Sandra, especially when he found out who she was.

Or had been, she thought bitterly. At least her ex-celebrity status had earned her a discount. Who knew the house's owner would turn out to be a fan? She allowed herself a little smile at the thought of her far-reaching fame.

She slowed to a stop, turned off the engine, and stepped out. The front gate wasn't automated so she dug into her designer purse for the keys. As she fumbled with the lock, a hoarse voice made her jump:

“What are you doing? Are you a thief?”

Sandra looked up to see an elderly woman squinting at her through a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. With her frizzy white hair, thin frame, and baggy blouse and pants, the woman looked like a witch out of a children's movie.

“Oh no.” Sandra laughed. “I’m the new tenant here. Still trying to figure out which key is which.”

Met with silence, her laughter trailed off awkwardly. She cleared her throat and extended a hand. “I’m Sandra by the way. Nice to meet you.”

The old woman eyed her but didn't take her hand. “Dina,” she said, after a long pause.

“Nice to meet you, Dina.” Sandra smiled as she pulled back her hand and wiped it on her short pencil skirt.

ivanskilling 2020-05-15 14:27:59 UTC #34

Wow thank you for the detailed edit! That was very helpful. Also I struggle the most with describing appearances, so what you said about Dina really helped me figure out what I should do next time.

I fixed most of what you pointed out, save for small details that I wanted to keep because it matched the character. I just wanted to ask, based on what you've read so far, what is the one or two things that I should pay more attention to when I write?

Thanks again! I'm glad you found the story interesting.

DarJodo 2020-05-15 14:47:30 UTC #35

There was a tendency to over-explain, but this is to be expected of first drafts and self-edited works. If this thread aims to establish something it is that everyone could use an editor.

ivanskilling 2020-05-15 15:21:47 UTC #36

Ah I see! I'll take a note of that when I edit my works next time. Thanks for the help!
And yes, I totally agree that everyone could use an editor! It always helps to have a different pair of eyes looking at your work because you're bound to miss something that you wrote.

GesuGesu 2020-05-15 18:00:36 UTC #37

I actually quite like how you make these edits and explain your editing choices by line. Just as a reader reading the excerpt out-of-context I can see the difference in effect.

DarJodo 2020-05-15 18:04:29 UTC #38

Thank you. It actually takes Jodo much longer to explain the edits than to actually do them. After many years in the editing factory it is basically automatic.

DarJodo 2020-05-16 14:22:17 UTC #39

This one is from @IsobelLynx:

ORIGINAL TEXT

If her family was a bale of silk, she was the snagged thread, sticking out, catching attention for all the wrong reasons. She should want perfection. She should aspire to climb the Tailors Guild ranks like her mother and make her family proud. But she clung onto hope that it wasn’t her only option. As beautiful as flawless silk was, the idea of blending in with the mass terrified her. And didn’t uneven threads form texture? There was beauty in uniqueness, though most Empyreals disagreed.

She sat next to her work and grudgingly picked up a needle. She designed a new pattern, golden tendrils which complemented the red silk exquisitely. She had a talent for embroidering but couldn’t enjoy the craft when forced to do it.

Her thoughts traveled to the tale she was writing, and the time passed faster. A few plot twists later, she had finished her work and rushed back to her chamber to write it all down before everything she had dreamt up flew out of her head. Until written down, words were ephemeral.

She laid on her bed, belly-down, her quill writing words by itself, it seemed. She was a spectator to the story that was becoming more epic with every sentence. But soon, she ran into a wall. Sadie, her hero, couldn’t complete the task she had set out on.

“Ay ai oi?” a little voice called out from her balcony.

“Fly in, Spinel,” Ansgarde invited her Brumal visitor.

Spinel was a small demon with green skin and spiral horns sticking out of a mess of feathery black hair. Brumals normally did not wear any clothes, but as that would be highly inappropriate in Upper Heliodor, Spinel made an exception and wore the cute jade dress Ansgarde had sawn for her. She offered to make her an entire wardrobe - designing dresses for the little demon was a task she would have loved to do - but Spinel put her tiny bare foot down. One was too many for a Brumal.

She was carrying a yellow fern leaf larger than herself when she landed next to the parchment.

“I’m stuck,” Ansgarde complained. Spinel chewed on the leaf and encouraged venting, so she explained. “Sadie needs to sneak into the castle, but she lost her elixir of invisibility when she was captured two chapters ago.”

Spinel shrugged and mumbled while chewing. The leaf was quickly disappearing.

“Magic? She’s a warrior princess, not a runecaster.”

Spinel stared at her with those little black eyes, her mouth too full to say anything else.

“Magic,” Ansgarde repeated. Maybe magic would have to come from another character?

She gasped as she realized what she needed to do.

She opened the curtains wide to check the time. The sun had not risen from the west yet, but the midday shadow was slowly dissipating. If she hurried, she could sneak out on a quick trip to Lower Heliodor and come back before nightfall.

Upper Heliodor, her home, was an upside-down island floating over its Lower counterpart like a mirror reflection. Today, a haze of moisture hung between the split city, hiding Lower Heliodor from view, a tease of an adventure calling to her.

“Let’s go, Spinel.” Her little friend had just finished the leaf and flipped in the air, already excited, though she didn’t know yet where they were going. “We’ve got scouting to do.”

If her family was a bale of silk, she was the snagged thread, sticking out, catching attention for all the wrong reasons.

If Ansgarde's family was a bale of silk, she was the loose thread getting attention for all the wrong reasons.

Changed “her family” to “Ansgarde's family” simply to make things clearer for this excerpt.

She should want perfection. She should aspire to climb the Tailors Guild ranks like her mother and make her family proud.

She should want perfection. She should aspire to climb the ranks of the Tailors Guild like her mother and make her family proud.

Editing is not always about making things shorter. Sometimes it is worth spending a few more words to make things clearer for the reader.

But she clung onto hope that it wasn’t her only option. As beautiful as flawless silk was, the idea of blending in with the mass terrified her. And didn’t uneven threads form texture? There was beauty in uniqueness, though most Empyreals disagreed.

But she clung to the hope that it wasn’t her only option. Flawless silk was beautiful, but the idea of blending in with the rest of the fabric was terrifying. Didn’t uneven threads give texture? There was beauty in uniqueness, though most Empyreals would disagree.

“Flawless silk was beautiful” is a stronger declarative statement than “As beautiful as flawless silk was” and sets up a contrast between it and Ansgarde's fear of vanishing into the crowd. Jodo changed “most Empyreals disagreed” to the stock phrase “most Empyreals would disagree” to improve clarity.

She sat next to her work and grudgingly picked up a needle. She designed a new pattern, golden tendrils which complemented the red silk exquisitely. She had a talent for embroidering but couldn’t enjoy the craft when forced to do it.

She sat next to her work and grudgingly picked up a needle. She designed a new pattern of golden tendrils that complemented the red silk well. She had a talent for embroidering but didn't enjoy it when others forced her to do it.

Changed “complemented the red silk exquisitely” to “complemented the red silk well”. “Exquisite” does not bring any images to mind and is effectively meaningless. Sometimes we do not have time to go into detail, but do not trust adjectives to carry very much weight.

Her thoughts traveled to the tale she was writing, and the time passed faster. A few plot twists later, she had finished her work and rushed back to her chamber to write it all down before everything she had dreamt up flew out of her head. Until written down, words were ephemeral.

Her thoughts traveled back to the tale she was writing and the time passed faster. A few plot twists later and she had finished her work and rushed back to her chamber to write it down before everything flew out of her head.

We did not really need the last line. It can be useful when writing first drafts to fall into the pattern of tell-then-show (or show-then-tell) but these extra lines ought to be cut from later drafts.

She laid on her bed, belly-down, her quill writing words by itself, it seemed. She was a spectator to the story that was becoming more epic with every sentence. But soon, she ran into a wall. Sadie, her hero, couldn’t complete the task she had set out on.

She lay on her bed, her quill seeming to write the words by itself. She was enjoying being a spectator until she ran into a wall. Sadie, her hero, couldn’t complete the task she had set out to do.

The first line was clumsy until Jodo cut out the “belly-down” part. Readers can infer that from the context.

“Ay ai oi?” a little voice called out from her balcony.

“Fly in, Spinel,” Ansgarde invited her Brumal visitor.

“Ay ai oi?” a little voice called out from the balcony.

“Come in, Spinel,” Ansgarde said.

Another example of too much information too soon.

Spinel was a small demon with green skin and spiral horns sticking out of a mess of feathery black hair. Brumals normally did not wear any clothes, but as that would be highly inappropriate in Upper Heliodor, Spinel made an exception and wore the cute jade dress Ansgarde had sawn for her. She offered to make her an entire wardrobe - designing dresses for the little demon was a task she would have loved to do - but Spinel put her tiny bare foot down. One was too many for a Brumal.

Spinel was a Brumal, a small demon with green skin and horns spiraling out of a mess of feathery black hair. Brumals normally didn't wear clothes, but since that would be inappropriate in Upper Heliodor, Spinel made an exception and wore the jade-green dress Ansgarde had sewn for her. Ansgarde would have loved to make the doll-like demon an entire wardrobe but Spinel put her tiny foot down. One was already too many.

This is the appropriate time to inform the reader that Ansgarde's visitor is a Brumal. Changed “as that would be highly inappropriate” to “since that would be inappropriate”, saving one word but substituting “as” with the longer “since” to further clarify things.

She was carrying a yellow fern leaf larger than herself when she landed next to the parchment.

The Brumal flew in and landed next to the parchment carrying a yellow fern leaf larger than she was.

This is the appropriate time to inform the reader that Brumals can fly.

“I’m stuck,” Ansgarde complained. Spinel chewed on the leaf and encouraged venting, so she explained. “Sadie needs to sneak into the castle, but she lost her elixir of invisibility when she was captured two chapters ago.”

“I’m stuck,” Ansgarde said. Spinel chewed on the leaf and made an encouraging face, so she explained, “Sadie needs to sneak into the castle, but she lost her elixir of invisibility when she was captured two chapters ago.”

Most dialogue tags beyond “said” and “asked” are redundant. Ansgarde is obviously complaining when she says “I'm stuck” so it is not necessary to point that out unless she was complaining very strongly. In that case “whined” might be a better word, although you can indicate that better with creative spelling: “I'm stuuuuuck.”

Spinel shrugged and mumbled while chewing. The leaf was quickly disappearing.

“Magic? She’s a warrior princess, not a runecaster.”

Spinel stared at her with those little black eyes, her mouth too full to say anything else.

“Magic,” Ansgarde repeated. Maybe magic would have to come from another character?

Spinel shrugged and mumbled while chewing. The leaf was quickly disappearing. “Magic? But she’s a warrior-princess, not a runecaster.”

“Magic?” Ansgarde said.

Spinel stared at her with her. Her irises were huge and dark. Her mouth too full to say anything else. Maybe the magic would have to come from another character?

Merged the first two lines into one paragraph to make it clear that it was Spinel talking. Moved Ansgarde's response to directly after, to further clarify who is speaking.

She gasped as she realized what she needed to do.

She opened the curtains wide to check the time. The sun had not risen from the west yet, but the midday shadow was slowly dissipating. If she hurried, she could sneak out on a quick trip to Lower Heliodor and come back before nightfall.

Ansgarde gasped. She knew what she needed to do. She opened the curtains wide to check the time. The sun had not yet risen from the west but the midday shadow was slowly dissipating. If she hurried she could sneak out to Lower Heliodor and come back before nightfall.

Again, “quick trip” is an unnecessary detail given the rest of the line. It is past midday and she expects to be back before nightfall. “Sneak out” also tells us that she is going out in secret, something that would not remain secret if she stayed out very long.

Upper Heliodor, her home, was an upside-down island floating over its Lower counterpart like a mirror reflection.

Upper Heliodor, her home, was an upside-down island floating over its lower counterpart like a mirror image.

“Mirror reflection” is redundant. The choice was between “mirror image” and “reflection” and Jodo chose the former because it is more vivid.

Today, a haze of moisture hung between the split city, hiding Lower Heliodor from view, a tease of an adventure calling to her.

Today a haze hung between the split city, hiding Lower Heliodor from view and hinting of adventure.

Try not to anthropomorphize the landscape too much. Modern audiences are fine if a fog cloud hints of adventure, but not if it teases and calls.

“Let’s go, Spinel.” Her little friend had just finished the leaf and flipped in the air, already excited, though she didn’t know yet where they were going. “We’ve got scouting to do.”

“Let’s go, Spinel. We’ve got scouting to do.”

Her little friend finished the leaf and flipped into the air, already excited, although she didn’t know where they were going yet.

When including action and dialogue in one paragraph, take care that both come from the same character.

EDITED TEXT

If Ansgarde's family was a bale of silk, she was the loose thread getting attention for all the wrong reasons. She should want perfection. She should aspire to climb the ranks of the Tailors Guild like her mother and make her family proud. But she clung to the hope that it wasn’t her only option. Flawless silk was beautiful, but the idea of blending in with the rest of the fabric was terrifying. Didn’t uneven threads give texture? There was beauty in uniqueness, though most Empyreals would disagree.

She sat next to her work and grudgingly picked up a needle. She designed a new pattern of golden tendrils that complemented the red silk well. She had a talent for embroidering but didn't enjoy it when others forced her to do it.

Her thoughts traveled back to the tale she was writing and the time passed faster. A few plot twists later and she had finished her work and rushed back to her chamber to write it down before everything flew out of her head.

She lay on her bed, her quill seeming to write the words by itself. She was enjoying being a spectator until she ran into a wall. Sadie, her hero, couldn’t complete the task she had set out to do.

“Ay ai oi?” a little voice called out from the balcony.

“Come in, Spinel,” Ansgarde said.

Spinel was a Brumal, a small demon with green skin and horns spiraling out of a mess of feathery black hair. Brumals normally didn't wear clothes, but since that would be inappropriate in Upper Heliodor, Spinel made an exception and wore the jade-green dress Ansgarde had sewn for her. Ansgarde would have loved to make the doll-like demon an entire wardrobe but Spinel put her tiny foot down. One was already too many.

The Brumal flew in and landed next to the parchment carrying a yellow fern leaf larger than she was

“I’m stuck,” Ansgarde said. Spinel chewed on the leaf and made an encouraging face, so she explained, “Sadie needs to sneak into the castle, but she lost her elixir of invisibility when she was captured two chapters ago.”

Spinel shrugged and mumbled while chewing. The leaf was quickly disappearing. “Magic? But she’s a warrior-princess, not a runecaster.”

“Magic?” Ansgarde said.

Spinel stared at her with her. Her irises were huge and dark. Her mouth too full to say anything else. Maybe the magic would have to come from another character?

Ansgarde gasped. She knew what she needed to do. She opened the curtains wide to check the time. The sun had not yet risen from the west but the midday shadow was slowly dissipating. If she hurried she could sneak out to Lower Heliodor and come back before nightfall.

Upper Heliodor, her home, was an upside-down island floating over its lower counterpart like a mirror image. Today a haze hung between the split city, hiding Lower Heliodor from view and hinting of adventure.

“Let’s go, Spinel. We’ve got scouting to do.”

Her little friend finished the leaf and flipped into the air, already excited, although she didn’t know where they were going yet.

IsobelLynx 2020-05-19 03:00:39 UTC #40

Thank you for these notes. A lot of it was cutting out the obvious, but you also pointed out some things that I missed.