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Started by @Riorlyne pets
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@Riorlyne pets

@Lara - All right, here's a Google doc with some inline grammar edits and comments. More general feedback below.

  • Elizabeth: It doesn't really come through that she's a spy, especially the best one her agency has to offer. A spy would generally be observing things all the time, taking in data, relaying it back to the agency, focused on their mission, etc. I would expect when Elizabeth encounters the 'hole' that she'd want to do some testing, like take a sample of the orange stuff on the ground, make educated guesses about how wide across the hole is and how deep and how far out from the epicentre the foggy coolness spreads. Generally in fiction, spies have cool devices to help them do these things. Also, as a spy, she'd be less concerned about how handsome and well-dressed Josh is and more focused on whether he's a threat to her and her mission. If Josh was out to kill Elizabeth, from what I've seen of Elizabeth's reactions in the narrative, she'd already be dead. (Take, for example, her reaction to seeing that his eyes are purple: she nearly falls into the hole in surprise. A spy should have more control over their emotions.)
  • The end: The two writing styles you've used don't seem to fit together. The first half is very action-and-character focused, with the reader seeing things from Elizabeth's perspective in very precise detail. The second bit is a quick summary of the rest of Josh and Elizabeth's relationship, and to be honest, it comes across as telling, not showing. Elizabeth (a) abandons her mission, (b) lies to her agency, (c) falls for a stranger who can read her mind, (d) has a stranger who can read her mind fall for her, and (e) agrees to meet this stranger again, but none of this is shown or is built up to be believable in the first part. Remember, Elizabeth is a spy. Her whole life is built around deceiving people and subterfuge. The stereotype of a spy is that they don't trust easily, and they don't abandon their work at the drop of a hat. Of course, you can make Elizabeth go against the stereotype, but then you'll need to show your reader why, as a top-level spy and assassin, she has such a trusting personality.
  • The agency: If they're any sort of good agency, they might notice that it took Elizabeth several hours to report the location as a glitch. That's a long time to notice that a place is normal. Also, if the hole is still there, it's still going to show up weird on their devices, and what would happen if they sent a different agent? That agent would find out that Elizabeth lied, and I'm guessing she'd be in big trouble. Think about how the agency operates and why it would be important for Elizabeth to hide the hole from them.

If the spy agency is going to be a big part of your story, I would recommend working on Elizabeth's personality and mannerisms so that this scene flows in a way that's a lot more plausible for your readers.

Lara

Thank you so much, its kind of hard because the rest of the story is in the perspective of her daughter in the future. I was trying to not give things away. I will take your comments into account, thank you so much.

@LittleBear group

@"Write Like You're Running Out Of Time" I was bored and reading through critiques, (dang you go @Riorlyne, great critiques) and I came across some of your amazing writing. I just wanted to give you a little nitpicky military thing (since I'm guessing you were going para-military Army/Air Force) for an added air of authenticity. So when directly addressing a superior officer a subordinate, be that a Sergeant (noncommisioned) or lower commissioned officer, would say "Sir" or "Ma'am". You would only use explicit rank when talking about the person when they are not there or introducing them to others, need to distinguish them from other officers, or are mocking them (almost like saying "the only reason I am following you is because of your rank"). Calling them by explicit rank to their face is seen as pretty insulting. However, I think that the Navy (and also Marine Corps) requires the use of explicit rank always so if the organization is more sea faring (but they don't have COLs) then have at it! Also, a lot of officers that I know call other officers they are close with by first name. If you want to know anything else about the military (Army esp.) jut PM me! (this goes for anyone who comes across this)

PS, I tried to PM you, but for some reason your name wouldn't come up in the address bar. Sorry @Riorlyne for hijacking your thread a little.

@Riorlyne pets

@LittleBear - No worries! I don’t consider it a hijack at all, and thank you for the compliment!

Btw for PMs, people’s names should come up if you type them without the @ in the address bar (unless they have an added @ in their username). I’ve had that issue myself.

@WriteOutofTime

@"Write Like You're Running Out Of Time" I was bored and reading through critiques, (dang you go @Riorlyne, great critiques) and I came across some of your amazing writing. I just wanted to give you a little nitpicky military thing (since I'm guessing you were going para-military Army/Air Force) for an added air of authenticity. So when directly addressing a superior officer a subordinate, be that a Sergeant (noncommisioned) or lower commissioned officer, would say "Sir" or "Ma'am". You would only use explicit rank when talking about the person when they are not there or introducing them to others, need to distinguish them from other officers, or are mocking them (almost like saying "the only reason I am following you is because of your rank"). Calling them by explicit rank to their face is seen as pretty insulting. However, I think that the Navy (and also Marine Corps) requires the use of explicit rank always so if the organization is more sea faring (but they don't have COLs) then have at it! Also, a lot of officers that I know call other officers they are close with by first name. If you want to know anything else about the military (Army esp.) jut PM me! (this goes for anyone who comes across this)

PS, I tried to PM you, but for some reason your name wouldn't come up in the address bar. Sorry @Riorlyne for hijacking your thread a little.

Oh, thank you! This is something I genuinely did not know. The hierarchy/rank is loosely based on the Army, but it's slightly different since it's post-apocalyptic. So, just to clarify, was the mistake when Nyir referred to Tyfer as "Colonel", or did I just overlook something?

@LittleBear group

So it depends on the commander, but here I've seen generals call officers below them by just first or last name depending on how well they know them. So lets say Gen. Jones is just in the office and needs to know the whereabouts of some troops, she would say "Hey, Steve or (hey Smith) do you have that report for me?" and then Col. Smith would reply with "Not yet Ma'am, the fax machine is broken again…"
The but lets say Col. Smith crashed a tank, she might formally reprimand him with "Col. Smith do you have any idea the millions of dollars you have just wasted!" Or if they are at a fancy function or promotion Gen. Jones might say "Let me introduce you to my colleague/ friend/ whatever Col. Smith."

@LittleBear group

@Riorlyne would you mind looking at something of mine? This is split up into two excerpts that go hand in hand. I already have a few lovely editors - but I wanted to see if some of the less action-y bits were still engaging to someone who is completely unfamiliar with the characters. So I guess for lack of a better phrase, "Does it suck you in" like if you picked this up at a book store, flipped to a random page would you keep reading or put it back. And of course if I did something grammatically wrong, lmk. Also, I like brutal honesty and this is like 2nd or third draft.
Also side note, Erion calls Eline "Cat" because she can be so temperamental some days and affectionate in others.

Erion -

The moment the carriage door opened, the weight of the world fell off my shoulders. The air was cool and humid, the breeze was gentle, and the road was paved with limestone. The sun did not scorch my skin. But, most importantly, there was no sand. Finally, I was home.

Somehow, I had expected it to change in my absence, but it looked as if I had only left yesterday.

“Lad, your things,” Sangar said as he thrusted my bags at me. One was the standard issue all the apprentices received and the other was the bag I had packed so many years ago. I took them and without another word, he shut the door and the carriage rode off.

Out of curiosity, I opened the clasp and found a few clothes and the roll of parchment, inkwell, and quill. Only now, the parchment was horribly creased, the quill broken, and the ink had dried long ago.

“Erion?” asked a high and musical voice, like a viola. “Erion!”

I turned and saw her. Gods above and below, time had been kind to her. Gone was the pretty girl who tripped over her own feet. In her stead was a beautiful raven-haired creature, tall and willowy, who moved like a dancer as she flew down the stairs. Only those big eyes were familiar to me.

I set my things down, ready to hold her hands in greeting, but Marielle had other ideas. She launched herself at me and I thanked the gods for my training, for our foreheads almost collided. I held her to me and wisps tickled my face as I rested my cheek on her hair. She still smelled of vanilla and oranges.

“Where have you been?” She exclaimed, a little too close to my ear. “It has been so long and I missed you so! I have so much to tell you!” She pulled away from me and it took all of my strength to let her go. The feeling of her against me comforted my bruised heart. It was fitting that she was the first one to embrace me in all this time. It was her face that kept me strong through the grueling training and horrifying tasks. The thought of seeing her smile gave me the will to continue on.

“My mother did not tell you?” It was odd to think that Marielle had seen Mother more than I had.

“She told us that she sent you to study culture across the sea,” Marielle said, her brow furrowed. “But, it was so strange of you to just disappear. Jerlorn and Solin were convinced that you were dead. And Eline, oh Eline was livid with you for the longest time.”

I smiled at her and simply said, “That is more or less the truth. I learned slightly more than culture.”

“Oh, Erion! You know how I hate it when you act so tight-lipped! Tell me all about your adventures,” she scolded as she nudged me.

“Truly, I –”

“Is that Erion?” boomed a rolling baritone.

“By Archanie, it is him!” was the slightly more bass answer. Before I could do a thing, I was bowled over by two hulking men, one with hair as deep as Strician dark roast and the other’s could rival a setting Lianian sun.

“Solin! Jerlorn!” I managed to wheeze from the courtyard floor. “I cannot breathe!”
Laughing, they leapt up off me and pulled me to my feet.

“Where in three hells have you been?” Jerlorn asked. His close-cropped beard suited him well and from the looks of it, it barely covered a new scar on his cheek. “You have missed so much! It felt wrong that you were not with us for all of our adventures.”

“We were both sent to the Lianian badlands,” Solin said.

“Then to the Strician Ocean,” Jerlorn had started to count on his fingers.

“Over the Macraton Mountians –”

Suddenly a window flew open and a blond woman leaned out. “What is all the comot –” Her eyes caught mine and I knew that sharp gaze anywhere. It was Eline. Twenty years or a second later, I really could not say, she disappeared into the depths of the room.

Solin elbowed me and whispered, “Heirokeps have mercy on you.”

“Why would I need him, of all the gods?” I looked away from Eline's window to see him looking quite solemn.

“Eline was a right terror for at least six months after you left,” he said. “She just about tore off all of our heads, one time or another. She missed her best friend.”

I ran a hand through my hair and tried to compose myself.

Marielle grabbed my free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, “This was years ago, we have all grown so much since then.”

“Thank you,” I breathed and after a returned squeeze, I made my way inside the palace.

It had not changed in the slightest since I had left. The same velvet runners were laid precisely across the floor and up the staircase, bordered with embroidered braids of all of the house colors. The crystal chandeliers still glittered with light from white candles, up in the lofty rafters. Once I reached the third floor, in the Camile house’s wing, the runners turned to the amethyst of their house gem.

I went to the door that was as familiar as my own and ran my fingers across the engraved plaque on the door. I could still remember the day they put it up, Eline was so proud that she could barely contain herself. It read Eline Camile and underneath it had her family crest and moto, Guardians of Knowledge, Agents of Progress. I knocked gently.

“Enter,” was the quiet answer.

She was a sight. The sun streamed through the open window and set her neatly pinned curls aglow. The breeze played at the gossamer curtains and stirred the gentle air. The only sound was a faint scratching of her quill across what looked like a ledger. She did not look up.

“Cat?” I whispered as I entered and closed the door behind me. The click had a certain finality about it.

“Did you not have a quill and parchment?” At her cold tone, I could not help but think of the first time we met. It had taken me weeks to get her to smile.

“I did,” I lied. How could I tell her that I had been an assassin apprentice in all the time I was gone? Telling her I could not have written her would have just led to more questions. The very thing hurt me to no end, but there were greater things at stake than my feelings.

“Did you become illiterate?” She continued to write.

“I did not.” At this, she finally looked up at me.

“I see that you are still in possession of your hands. So why did you not write me?” she paused and waited for my excuse.

I could not think of anything. I was too busy looking at how she had changed. She still looked like a fairy, but she had grown into herself. Fair had turned to elegance.

She dropped her quill on the blotting cloth and pushed herself to her feet. The scraping of her chair against the floor was deafening.

“Do you have an answer? At all?” Eline asked as she strode up to me. One thing had remained unchanged. She was not afraid to invade a man’s personal space to make a point – which she did by shoving me with all her strength. She pushed so hard that I actually had to take a step back. “Answer me you idiot!”

She spun away from me and went to the window, her infuriated breathing filling the silence. Eline patted her hair back into place and it struck me how adult the movement was.

After what felt like an eternity, I found my voice. “I could not find the words. I wanted desperately to get back and accept you. But mother sent me away the very day you told me how you felt.”

Briefly, I thought about reaching out to touch her. In a way, I did love her and seeing her in pain caused a pang in my own heart. I just did not love her the way she wanted. In the end, I kept my hands by my side. “When I was able to write, I realized that I could not change my feelings. I thought of you, but my heart only yearned for her. I thought that you would be better off if you moved on without me. Kinder.”

She turned to me with piercing eyes and clenched fists. A tear ran down her cheek and the weight of it caused my chest to constrict.

“You were gone for four years.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “I never had a chance, did I?”

“I –”

She held up a hand and cut me off. “I do not want any more excuses. Leave me.”

“Eline –” I made a move towards her.

“I will see you another time Erion.” She moved past me and opened the door. “I need to be at Solin’s side.”

I watched her skirts swing around her as she left.

Side note: Erion finds out that Jerlorn is marrying Marielle and Solin is marrying Eline. He has resolved to try and win Marielle – despite his friendship to Jerlorn.

Erion –
The man was plain in every sense of the word. Even as I was looking at him, I began to forget what he looked like. I suppose that is what made him one of our best.

“Yes, and what did your men find?” I asked.

There was no emotion in his face as he gave his report, “There is an influx of immigrants at our borders. Unfortunately, there is no way to tell exact figures since there are no outposts or checkpoints. The majority of them are family units from Lian, Marcat, and Rondolvo. All of the locations, except the one near Holvim are ideal candidates for your Lady Mother’s projects.”

I made my way to the large map hanging on my wall and looked for the word. “And what is so special about Holvim?” I asked.

“You will not find it on a map, m’lord. The town is much too small for that,” he said as he pointed to a part of the map that looked to be a full week’s ride or more from Estonie. “The community is very small and entirely too interested –”

“Interested?” I interrupted.

“Curious. Our men could not stay longer than two days without raising suspicion,” he finished.

My own curiosity was piqued. Part of me yearned to know what this grand operation was and the other, much wiser, part of me knew that I did not want to know – not in the slightest. In the end, I left it alone.

“Very well, if you would turn please,” I said as I sat down at my desk. I scribbled the down last details of the new report and blew gently on the ink until it faded away. I added it to other stack of seemingly blank parchments, flipped it over and gave the fake medical documents a quick glance, and then slipped it into its envelope. The wax dripped prettily into a opalescent wax blob and it gently warmed my signet ring as I stamped it. “Ensure that my eldest brother gets this before nightfall.”

He took the envelope gingerly and took his leave, as silently as he had come.

Regarding the map again, my mind wandered to my travels. I was lost in thought about the missing Lianian princess when there was a timid knock.

“Enter,” I called and a maid opened the door.

She curtsied deeply and said, “The Ladies Eline and Marielle request your presence in the Vrualti wing.”

What ever could the two of them want with me? Marielle I could see, but Eline? As far as I was aware, she still wanted to flay me alive. “Would you do me the pleasure of showing me exactly where they are? I must confess that I rarely spend time calling upon the artisans,” I bade her.

“Of course, m’Lord” she breathed and we began our way through the winding halls of the palace.

After a time in silence, she dared ask “M’Lord may I speak out of turn?” The poor thing looked as if she was about to pass out from fear of breaking etiquette.

“Speak freely; you will face no reprimand from me.” The words seemed to bring her a little solace.

“All of the palace staff missed your dearly whilst you were away. But it seems as if you have returned in body alone. There is a change about you m’lord and we worry is all. Should there be anything at all that you require, please do let us know.”

I turned and truly took her in. As I had done with so many other servants before, I had forgotten that she was a person beyond the neat palace uniform and perfectly slicked back hair. She was a girl who, despite having painfully little compared to me, was offering aid. “Thank you Miss…” I trailed off.

“Emaline, m’lord. Miss Emaline,” She said with a quick curtsy. “And that brings us to the Vrualti wing. Will you be requiring anything else m’lord?”

“No, you may take your leave,” I said as her words still swirled around in my head. “And again, thank you.”

She smiled kindly and slipped away as an unmistakably shrill voice called out, “Erion! It has been so long!”

“Briness, indeed it has. How have you been?” I asked the Vrualti heir.

“So, so wonderfully busy with the double wedding. The entire palace is alight with anticipation!” She giggled, gesturing wildly. “It seems that everyone, simply everyone must have new wardrobes for the event. Is that why you are here? Have you come for a new doublet?”

“Ah, no Marielle and Eline sent for me.”

A knowing look flashed across her face as she turned and beckoned, “Well come on then, best not to keep those two waiting.”

We turned the corner and came to a room of mirrors; which in and of itself would have made anyone gasp with wonder. However, my eyes were only on the woman on the platform.

“Would you just look at how it flows! I do not believe I have ever seen anything so fine in my entire life.” She spun slowly and indeed the glossy fabric moved with her, pooling around her like water. Lace crept up her arms and around her bodice like a rose vine. And the veil flowed from her hair with an unparalleled air of regality. Briness and her house must have worked for months on the ensemble. She was so lovely that I feared the goddess Jesimae would smite her in a jealous rage.

“Oh Erion, you are here!” She exclaimed as she caught me in the reflection of the mirror. “So what do you think?” she asked, turning to face me. “Do I look like a proper bride?”

In that moment, I could see a future that could have been ours. I would marry her in the grand temple. I would bring her to my noble house and her caring heart would bring light and goodness back into its halls. We would have a hoard of beautiful, adventurous children.

I wanted nothing more than to sweep her up kiss her with all the passion in the world. I wanted to kiss her until my lips were swollen and numb. I wanted to give her the world and my heart and anything she wanted. But, all I could do was mummer, “You look incredible.”

She blushed and gathered my hands in hers. “I just wanted to thank you. My life has changed so much because of you. If you had not helped me at the well, so long ago I would never have met Jerlorn or had these wonderful friends or beautiful gowns,” she giggled abashedly and swished her skirts. “I know it is a little bit silly to love them so much, but I will always appreciate how the silk feels on my skin and how much work went into each piece. It is almost like wearing love itself.”

Eline cleared her throat from the chair.

“Oh! Thank you Eline! I almost forgot. Erion, we have something we want to ask you,” she said as bounced on the balls of her feet. “I mean it was Eline’s idea, but it is just perfection! Seeing as you are the only reason I am here. I would just be so poetic with all of us up there–” she trailed off as if she were imagining it. “So will you?”

“Marielle you forgot to ask him.” Eline deadpanned in her familiar way. For a moment, I felt transported back to our childhood.

“Oh! You are right!” She shook her head and laughed at herself. “Erion, we want you to give us away! Just think of how perfect it would be, all five of us up there at once, like one family.”

It took all of my training to force a smile onto my face. But nothing could stop me from looking over Marielle’s shoulder to Eline. She looked back with cruel triumph in her eyes, her arms crossed defiantly. “You want this too Eline?”

“It was her idea you ninny. I know I said that part!” Marielle laughed.

“It is fitting Erion, do you not agree?” Eline said softly.

I turned back to Marielle and nodded, “I would be honored.”

Marielle wrapped me in a massive hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. How can I ever repay you? You have given me my world!”

I found my voice long enough to say, “Marielle you owe me nothing, all I ask is that you bask in your happiness.”

She kissed both my cheeks and exclaimed, “Oh this is going to be wonderful; I have to go tell Jer.” Without another moment, she gathered her skirts and ran from the room, I could faintly hear her calling out, “Briness, it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but I must fly and you know who cannot see me like this!”

After she left, I turned to Eline once more and an unspoken thing passed between us. In a way this was warranted, for all of the heartache I had caused her. “I admit that I deserved that. Are you done? Have I suffered enough now?”

Eline briefly looked like she wanted to push me out of a window. “No. However punishing you is exhausting and I would like my best friend back.” She stood up and put her hands out to me and I pulled her into a hug.

“I missed you, Cat,” I murmured into her hair. “And I am sorry for the pain I put you through.”

“I missed you too, but part of me is glad you left.” She pulled away from me. “I have found my happiness in Solin. I truly do love him, and if you had not gone, I do not think I would have let him in.”

@Penstorm

@Riorlyne - could you also look at my first 3 chapters. I would appreciate any feedback - your critiques are amazing!
Genre: Fantasy, adventure, romance - although this NOT the main point
Story Background - In the world of Iomi, females are being kidnapped or offered to dragon like creatures to spare their villages. They are then taking to Na'Syl'Nar(a separate world created by a wizard,O'Rahn) and put into prisons until their human captors find a use for them; which initially it was for breeding. While in the cells, the female prisoners began discovering/improving on powers that they have and it becomes useful when Fallyn, Reesa, and Meryha try to escape.
ch. 1

ch.2

ch.3

Thank you so much!

@Riorlyne pets

@Zen - Sorry to take so long, I've finally gotten to your flashback. Inline feedback can be found here.

General Feedback

  • Tense: Either tell your story using the present tense (I run down the alleyway and pull out my gun. The cops are right behind me.) or the past tense (I ran down the alleyway and pulled out my gun. The cops were right behind me.). Don't use a mixture of both as it is very off-putting and confusing for a reader. (An example of what NOT to do: I run down the alleyway and pulled out my gun. The cops are right behind me.)
  • Show, not tell: What you've got here is the barest minimum of information for a cop chase. If you want to pull your reader into your story, you'll want them to experience all the richness of the world you've created. The man he kills - all we see is that he's… a man. Is he old, young, sweating, on his knees, backed up against a kitchen cabinet, already injured, panting? The alleyway - is it narrow, littered with rubbish bins, asphalted, straight or twisted, what does it smell like, is it at night or day? Think of the details that will matter to this scene and include them.
  • Narrator: We see very little of your narrator's personality in this segment. Shooting someone defenceless at point blank range should have a huge impact on your character emotionally and psychologically, especially if Mike's not a trained assassin. I can't tell whether Mike is angry, shocked, frightened, defensive, glad that he's killed his sister's abuser… He could be any of these, and by his thoughts and actions that's what you need to communicate to the reader.
  • Flow: With a few more paragraph breaks, your flow in this piece is really good for the action sequence you've got going. Keep up the short, sharp sentences if you want to write action like this.

@Riorlyne pets

@LittleBear - Here it is, finally! Many inline bits of feedback can be found via Google docs here. Some of the grammar/flow critiques come with an explanation as to why such-and-such should be changed, so I apologise in advance if I've explained stuff you're already fully aware of. If you have questions about any of my comments, feel free to ask!

  • Since I haven't read the portion of the story that occurs prior to these segments, I probably have some feedback/questions that would have been already answered if I was reading from the top. Feel free to ignore those.
  • Similarly, I can't comment too much on plot or characterisation because of course what you've got here is only a small part of that. I didn't feel very interested in Solin or Jerlorn as characters (and I'm not sure which one of them is the dark-haired one) but that's due to them being rather minor in this excerpt and I'm sure they have a bigger part to play elsewhere.
  • If I picked this up in a bookstore I would definitely keep reading after this section! The world you've created feels very rich and real and I love the character interactions, especially between Erion and Eline. The two women are especially well-written and poor Erion seems like he's getting the short end of the stick all over the place. (I'm not exactly shipping Solin/Eline and Jerlorn/Marielle right now, but again, that's probably because I know next to nothing about those two men.) And I'm intrigued by more than just the romance - I want to know why Erion had to go do this assassin thing and what's going on in Holvim and where and who is this missing princess and what colour is Marielle's dress and so much more!

I hope my bits and pieces of feedback can be helpful. Let me know if you want me to take a look at any more of your work - I'd be more than happy to!

@LittleBear group

@Riorlyne thank you so much for your wonderful edits and feedback! So I don't know if your questions were merely to get me thinking about my plot or if you actually wanted to know…. so I'm going to assume that you do and answer them!

  • To answer the bride questions – so when I actually write the wedding scene the traditions are going to peak out. But yes both of their dresses are going to be white – in their culture, much like ours white does signify purity. The differences are going to be the colors that are interwoven into Eline’s gown.
  • So all of the twelve houses (their country is run by two King Houses that run Economics (Solin’s house) and War (Jerlorn’s house) and ten lower houses) have their own house gems and colors. Marielle is an outsider/peasant so she has no house colors to bring with her – thus pure white. Eline is from the education house whose color is purple, so she will have purple (either flowers or gems) throughout her gown.
  • The brides, because they are to become Queens of King Houses will receive ceremonial daggers encrusted with jewels of their respective husband’s houses. So I’m thinking that they (Eline and Marielle) will cut away their veils to signify cutting away individualism and joining into an eternal partnership with no barriers.
  • Also for time period I'm thinking like medival-ish….

If you want to read more in your free time (you don;t have to critique but feel free to) about this story and it's progression, it is all consolidated on https://www.notebook.ai/forum/sharing-critiques/the-pravaci-court-leave-me-a-critique

Emmalee

Sorry to add to the list, but could you go through this for me? I've been pretty out of it and I feel like I'm not doing a very good job editing (or writing in general), so any help is great! Thanks!

Slap, slap, sla-trip-shuffle-slap, slap, slap. The sound of my mother's flats hitting the floor stops the sobbing she’s never heard. Oh god, oh no, oh please no, no, no, no no no. She has never heard it and she never will. Barely visible hands messily wipe tears away, smearing eyeliner and mascara down my cheeks. A knock at the door.
“Em?”
“Just a sec I’m changing out of my shirt.”
“Why are you changing your shirt?”
“Splashed some water on it.”
“Oh, okay. Well, Dad, Oliver and I are leaving to go run a few errands, we’re leaving Evan with you, 'kay?”
“Yeah, cool. No problem.”
I hear her footsteps retreating down the hall and open my eyes. Yes, problem. I have been sitting here alone wanting to die, and you're going to leave me in charge of a 4-year-old right now? But of course, she is. Mom and Dad don't know. After breaking down in public restrooms so often you quickly learn how to steady your voice and keep back the waterworks. No one who doesn't catch you unawares will ever know. I wait until the already-faint sound of the van driving away disappears completely before opening the door. Evan runs out of the living room before i can even step through the doorway. As he slides on the hardwood in his socks he slams into me. "Wanna watch a movie?" I smile tiredly. "You can buddy, but I'm gonna go take a break."His brown doe-eyes twinkle a bit as he processes this new-found freedom. Skipping away he sings some made up song about Spiderman. I watch him happily go about making a snack before I turn numbly to the closet. My pocket knife practically jumps into my hand and my feet force me to slip into the bathroom, my fingers locking the door behind me. I let them because he doesn't need to see me do this. The fingers I watch seem as if they aren't mine as they open the blade. As I look at my reflection in the metal I realize less than five minutes ago this face was crying her eyes out, begging for the feeling to be gone. Now it was gone and I was digging a dull blade into my skin to prove to myself I could still feel at all. The blood drips into the toilet, crimson drops breaking against the surface and reaching deeper to stain and mar the water with its swirling color. After wiping the seat clean of any stray drops I flush the mess down the drain. I wash my hands, knife and arm of the blood before pulling my sweatshirt on again, careful as always to never let anyone see. After all, nobody needs to know.

@Riorlyne pets

@Emmalee - Here you go. :) Most of my grammar-related comments can be found here.

General Feedback

  • Paragraphing: Make sure to begin a new paragraph each time the speaker changes in a dialogue, and also when the focus of the narrative changes. For example, I've suggested a break between the narrator's self-reflection and continuation of the narrative here:

    No one who doesn't catch you unawares will ever know. [Paragraph break] I wait…

    And here:

    I was digging a dull blade into my skin to prove to myself I could still feel at all. [Paragraph break] The blood drips…

  • Cutting/Depression: I don't have first- or secondhand experience with these issues and so I don't feel properly equipped to comment on the themes or the events in this excerpt, but it sounds realistic and poignant without being overdramatic. If this is part of a larger story, I think as a reader I would want to find out from that larger story the causes of the narrator's pain and how she eventually finds healing.

Overall your writing flows really well and you don't really have any issues grammar- and spelling-wise. All the best as you continue with your stories!

@LittleBear group

I just wrote this extremely rough/ long first draft and was wondering if you would take a look at it when you get the chance!

(Side note: Janon Hane is Erion’s alias and the __________ will be either new chapters or jumping to another scene later on)

Erion -

“The subject is Halis Onrin,” Maious said. “He will be in his residence in the Selian district.” He handed me a slip of parchment.
If my memory of Canise served correct, the Selian district was the richest, other than the Palace of course.

“What has he done?” I asked.

“Not a concern of yours,” he said, dismissing me.

Knowing better than to protest, I left the room. But I stayed close to the door, straining to hear as best I could.

“Keep your eye on that one, Anions. We never should have taken an Uradavi in,” Maious said to my handler. “His conscious will be the end of us. If he has anything of his mother, then his will is unbreakable.”

“The boy asks a good question. I myself am curious,” Anions said.

“Smuggler. The King wants his wares, a poison of some kind, off the streets,” Maious answered. “The assignment should be easy enough. He will be alone.”

Satisfied, I put space between myself and the door. The risk of a beating was not worth the extra gossip.

He is a drug lord, a thief, a liar; the King has ordered his death. This is no different from a soldier obeying orders, I told myself. This was not murder.

((I’ll write them riding through the city later, too lazy to do it now))

We tied up our mounts a little ways away and Anions turned to me. “Quickly, quietly, and the house burns after us. No traces. Understand?”
I nodded.

The only sound was the whisper of wind though the date palms. Nothing was awake apart from Anions and me, even the crickets were no longer playing their song. The grand house was one of many, all stark and beautiful against the vast desert sky. And most importantly, a second story window was open.

He glanced around and nodded to me. Quickly, we made our way to the wall, I gave him a boost, and he disappeared into the house. A moment later the end of his whip fell down the wall. Just as we had practiced so many times before, I wrapped my hand around the whip and walked up the wall.

“Do not touch anything,” he breathed as I clambered into the room. An office, by how it was furnished

“I am not an imbecile,” I muttered to myself as he made his way deeper into the house, his footfalls barely a whisper. I slipped after him.

We made our way through the house. At every turn I could not help but wonder at the splendors that were here and how they differed from the opulence of home. There were lush rugs inlaid with golden scenes instead of tapestries and painted porcelain instead of crystal vases. The home smelled faintly of incense, snuffed out hours ago.

We finally came to a set of double doors, and, as was the usual for Lianian architecture, they led to the bedroom. Anions motioned me forward with one hand and slowly opened the door with the other.

I drew my dagger, took a deep breath, and slipped through. A large bed took up most of the room, just as expensively decorated as the rest of the house. It was occupied by huge Lianian man who was snoring soundly, his barrel of a chest rising and falling. I crept up next to him and looked down at his face, obscured by a well-groomed black beard.

“I am sorry,” I breathed. He is a drug lord, a thief, a liar; the King has ordered his death. This is no different from a soldier obeying orders, I told myself again. This had become my mantra.

I dragged my knife across his throat – quickly, cleanly, and through both arteries, just as I had practiced on the pigs. His eyes flew open and his snores were replaced with the gurgle of blood in his newly-ruined throat.

I stumbled away from him and scrambled back through the door.

The moment I came through the door, Anions grabbed my collar and forced me to look at him. “Breathe boy. You have done well, but the job is not over.”

I nodded and we each went to a lamp and poured the oil out onto the floor, darkening the beautiful carpets. Simultaneously we lit our matches and let them fall. The light that followed blinded me for a moment and all I could see was the dark liquid flowing from his neck.

The way it shined in the moonlight was seared into my memory.

“Come,” Anions said. He pulled me back the way we had come, out the office window and towards our mounts. When we finally turned to look at the house, it was engulfed in flames.

“You did well. But it is time to return,” Anions said and for a moment I felt a spark of pride. A spark that I immediately squashed down, for it was pride that threatened to rot my insides.

I was about to reply when I heard a scream and then a crying babe shortly after.

No.

Before I could process what was going on, I was running back to the house. I did not get far.

“There is nothing you can do now. What is done is done!” Anions had my forearm in a vise.

“There is a babe in there! You said he would be alone!” I roared.

“Sometimes the intelligence is wrong. You did not verify,” he said matter-of-factly, as if we had not just condemned the life of an innocent.

“May Rionel have at you,” I cursed as I drew my sword and smashed the pommel into his face. It was if Lehion himself was guiding my hand, for Anions crumpled immediately.

I did not bother with the window again; instead, I went for the entrance. I tore off my headscarf and held it to my mouth before I put my boot through the grand window. The smoke that billowed out stung my eyes and burned my throat. With a last prayer to Lehion, I stepped into the inferno.

“Where are you?” I yelled over the roar of the flames and the groaning of the house. What had seemed grand only minutes ago had transformed into a hells cape. “Where -” I was racked with a coughing fit.

“Help!” the voice called, clearly feminine, just loud enough to be heard over the cacophony.

“Keep yelling!” I shouted and followed the voice through the house.

Suddenly, an almighty groan rose above the rest. I looked up and saw a beam bow and then break. Luckily, I leapt forward just in time to escape its crushing blow. Plaster rained down around me and added to my urgency. After what seemed like an eternity, I came to the woman’s door. A burning armoire had fallen in front of the door

“I am here. Hold on!” I yelled. “Move away from the door!” I bit into my headscarf and used both hands to lift my sword high over my head. I do not know if the fire had just weakened the wood or if it was the adrenalin coursing through my veins, but I made short work of the armoire. I shoved the pieces and the blankets that it held aside and grabbed the door handle. White-hot pain screamed up my hand before
I could realize my mistake. Cursing, I grabbed my headscarf again then grabbed the handle and pulled.
The woman was crouched in the farthest corner of the room, a nursery. She curled around her child, trying to keep him from the smoke that swirled all around her. When she saw me, she leapt to her feet and rushed forward. She was barefoot.

I sheathed my sword and grabbed her.

“No!” She screamed, terrified. It was then that I realized that she was only in a thin shift.

“You are barefoot – I will have to carry you,” I croaked. “Here, take this.” I handed her my headscarf.

She nodded slowly. I swept her and the baby into my arms, and I stumbled back through the house.

“Go through the back,” she shouted, straining to be heard over the blaze, “It is much closer.” She became my eyes as I stumbled through the deadly maze, shouting a new direction every few moments.

When we finally came to the back door, the world was beginning to spin and my entire body was shaking. “Hold on,” I wheezed and I kicked the door open.

We spilled into backyard and clean air flooded my lungs. The woman and her child tumbled out of my arms just before my stomach heaved. I narrowly missed them when I vomited black sludge into the grass. We laid there for a moment, with the sound of the dying house taking over the night.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I do not even know you and you saved us. How can I ever repay you?” Her words were worse than the raging fire.

“Forget that I was here,” I said as I picked up my headscarf rewrapped my head. “Tell everyone that you got out yourself.”

“But -” she objected.

I was already walking away from her, towards the back gate. I had to face the Anions’ wrath. I skirted the edge of the property and slowly made my way back to where I had left him. But he was not there. Cursing, I started towards the horses. I had not made it five paces before someone appeared behind me and wrapped his arm around my throat. Instantly spots danced in my vision. I slammed my fists at his arm, but the effort was feeble. My strength was gone.

Hot.

That was the first thing I noticed. The heat was oppressive. I could not tell if the wetness on my face was sweat or tears. The salt burned my eyes and my parched throat screamed at me for water. But when I tried to wipe my face, I realized how truly, deeply wrong things were. I was in stocks and there was a roaring fire in a hearth not ten feet away. “Let me out!” I tried to scream, but my throat was too dry, producing only a harsh and guttural sound.

There was a gust of cool air as the door opened and the Spy Master strode in, a bucket in one hand, cane in the other. “Ah, the princeling awakes,” he purred as he rapped my chin with his cane.

Without thinking, I lunged forward, causing the stocks to jerk.

“And yet still so hostile,” he tutted. He crouched so that he was level with me. “You do not understand. Your dear mother has given me all the license in the world. We will break you, Uradavi; keep you dancing between life and death until you learn.” Then he threw the bucket’s contents at me. Cool and beautiful water.

“Three hours more. Then I want him in the throne room,” he said as he left. “Call all the apprentices in. I want the consorts too. Bring –” and the door closed, locking out all the cool air.

I think I made it another thirty minutes before passing out again.

This time, the air was mercifully cool. But, I could tell that I was not alone. There was the gentle hum of a confused crowd. This time took full stock of my position before I opened my eyes. I was not wearing a shirt, I was bent over on something curved and soft, and my feet were solidly on the ground. Most importantly, my wrists were tied down.

I opened my eyes and immediately wished I had not. I was indeed surrounded by a crowd. Everyone was in the throne room. All the other apprentices, instructors, and guards were watching me. Even the courtesans were here. Instantly I knew what was coming.

“There he is! Let us begin then!” He said, his voice like a like velvet. Gods, he was going to paint it as entertainment. “Thank you so much for joining us today for the trial of Janon Hane.”

“His crimes include questioning orders, disobeying orders, reckless endangerment of mission, reckless endangerment of self, attacking a handler, and endangerment of identity. Thus – ”

“The babe would have burned to death!” I squawked. My throat burned in protest.

“Oh, let us add interrupting me to the list! I will be merciful – five lashes for each infraction. That brings us to,” purred as he mimed counting on his fingers, “thirty-five. Anions, you do the honors.”

The crowd fell completely silent and I knew that all my gods had left me. There was no getting out of this.
It felt as if the air had turned to molasses. Each of Anions’ footfalls took an eternity and the pounding of my heart drowned out everything else. He came and tightened my bonds, his face drawn and almost remorseful. “Forgive me.”

I focused on the Spy Master, lounging in his throne, grit my teeth, and grip the bonds. There is a crack and instantly I felt a blinding pain across my shoulders. I jerked but did not make a sound. I wound not give him the satisfaction.

My mind goes to another place. A place where I cannot feel the skin curling off my back or the blood dribbling onto the floor. A place where I can repeatedly punch the Spy Master in his teeth. I did not take my eyes from him. I pulled all my strength from my hatred of him and drew joy when he straightened in his throne. I realized He wanted to hear me call out. He wanted to hear me break.

I would rather die before breaking.

“Stop!” he barks after the tenth lash. The tension leaves my body. “Bring his partner.”

My heart drops.
“Unhand me!” her pretty voice shouts. “I have done nothing wrong.”

Two guards come through the crowd, a blonde twisting and thrashing in their grip. Her hair is disheveled, she is still in her dressing gown, and it looks like there is a handprint blooming across her face. They brought her directly in front of me and I could see that it is unmistakably Sela.

“Janon, my God,” she cried, “What have they done to you? What is going on? I am so scared.”

“If you will not cry out for me, perhaps you will do so for her,” the Spy Master growled.

He would not dare. To mar a courtesan would be the same as condemning her to death. No man, no matter how pretty the face, would deign to let an imperfect courtesan warm his bed. He would lose all that he had paid for her and she would have to take to the streets.

“So be it. She will take your remaining twenty-five.” His grin brought bile to my throat.

“What? No! Please, master! Please!” Sela screamed, dropping to her knees.

He was bluffing.

I made no move. No sound.

“Oh, you do not believe me!” His smile turned predatory.

He stormed down from his throne and grabbed one of the guard’s whips. He was bluffing.

I watched in horror as he drew it back and it snapped across her back. The sound seems to reverberate across the room, louder than the others were. With a cry, she fell forward. Her gown was torn and blood was already flowing from her flesh. What had I done?

The Spy Master raised his hand again and he has won.

“No!” I roared.

There is no pride left to fight for.

“Stop. Please,” I said. “Have mercy.”

Triumphantly, he lowered his hand and called out, “Proceed, Anions.”

Again, the whip whistled through the air and it cracked across my back. And I screamed. I screamed like an animal in the throes of death.

My poor, parched throat cracks again and again from the force. The pain came in waves. It was relentless.

My vision swam and Sela blurred away.

Soon, it was too much to exclaim. All that escaped are pitiful whimpers. Then the cool fingers of darkness dragged me under and I felt nothing at all.

An unholy moaning filled the room and crashed in my ears, like a tempest’s waves on the shore. Put the poor man out of his misery, I want to say, but then it dawns on me. I am the man. I am the moaning. My mind was heavy, stuffed with cotton. But I felt nothing.

She appeared like an angel and put a cool hand on my forehead. “Shh,” she soothed. “I am so sorry, Erion. I am so sorry.”

Why? Why is she sorry? “No…” The words are hard to form. “I have killed you.”

She sobbed and covered her mouth.

“No, no,” she choked. “I am so sorry, Erion. It was all fake. Every moment of it. They found me beforehand and threatened – they said they were going to kill you if I did not act out the scene.”

I did not understand. There was blood. Her gown ripped. “They ruined you.”

She shook her head. “It was paint. It was pageantry. The dress was already torn when they brought me to you. When I heard the sound, I was supposed to fall forward and pretend.”

Her words were confusing and it grew harder to muddle through them. She faded away just as she appeared. Maybe she was a dream.

The first thing I saw is my bandaged hand. It smelled strongly of something sharp that irritated my nose. With my good hand, I tried to push myself up and suddenly I was on fire. There was nothing but pain. My world was pain and the air filled with cries.

“No! Do not move!” Suddenly Anions is here. He guided me back down and forced something into my mouth. “Swallow, boy.”

Hopefully, he has come to finish me off.

Darkness comes again and I greet it happily.

I could feel his eyes on me. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the far wall.

“I had no idea what they would do to you,” he murmured. “I am sorry Erion. What you did, I respect you for it. None of us here would have done that.”

As I fell asleep again, I could not help but think that that was the first time he had used my true name.

((Back in Estonie, much later on in the book))

Finally, there was a knock at the door. If it was not so worrying that Delpe was so late, I would be cross.

“Enter,” I called as I selected a shirt from my office bureau. “Where have you been, I expected your…”

I turned and froze. The person at the door was not Delpe. It was Eline.

Cursing, I yanked the shirt on.

“Erion, your back…” She was as white as a sheet and her hand was at her throat. “What happened to your back?” she asked as she stepped forward.

“Nothing.” My mind was racing.

“Those are not from sparring or battle. These are whipping scars. What happened over there?” She reached out to me.

“I said –”

“Do not lie to me. I know what I am seeing,” she whispered.

I could not do this. No one could know. “No,” I said. And pushed past her. I could not be here.
_________________________________________________
Someone knocked furiously at my door and within seconds, I had my dagger in hand.

I wrenched it open and found Eline standing there. With a heavy sigh, I tucked my dagger into my trousers. “Eline, what are you doing here? If someone sees you here, the scandal –”

“Fie on scandal!” she spat. “I care about you more than the prattle of gossipmongers. What happened? I will stand here all through the night if I have to.”

“Do not do this to Solin. You cannot be here,” I begged, willing Tian to give me patience.

“If he knew, he would be here as well. Let me in. You have nothing to bargain with.” She crossed her arms and glared at me.
I let her in. It was no use.

@Riorlyne pets

Hi @Penstorm - sorry for this late reply! I've finished going through your first chapter. You can find it with inline feedback here.

General Feedback

  • Setting: I think it would be helpful for you to visualise your characters' surroundings and their interactions to help with some plausibility and adding detail. For example, in the beginning of the chapter we meet a prisoner, chained to opposite walls of a room by a spiky metal band around his waist. This effectively creates a waist-height chain across the room, and would make it impossible to easily walk around the prisoner, yet several characters do exactly that. Then later, he busts a hole in the ceiling, yet Fallyn had to walk downstairs to get to him, implying that there's more than just a roof separating him from the outside world and freedom.
    Now, it's possible that these are possible and I'm just visualising things incorrectly. If that's the case, more specific description is needed so that things like this don't come across as implausible.
  • Powers: Because both Reesa's existing powers and Fallyn's new powers are used to solve a problem (pushing off the prisoner and getting back to the women's cell respectively) the reader needs a better idea of what their scope is, especially for Reesa (you have a little bit of leeway with Fallyn as hers are new and she doesn't know what they're capable of yet). Reesa seems to be able to communicate with Fallyn at a significant distance, even when Fallyn is not contacting her, however, she hasn't sensed anything about the prisoner (at an equally distant location) or read any of the guards' thoughts (who would need to bring them food and water, so those would have come quite close to Reesa). Because of this, her powers seem inconsistent, and the reader will need a better understanding of why she can pick up Fallyn's every thought and the guards' and yet still have no idea why they were taken or what's down the corridor.

I've skimmed the second chapter but because three chapters is a lot of writing, I will come back to your work after looking at other folks'. I can tell you've got the depth of worldbuilding behind your story, and it sounds like an interesting culture that you've developed. :) If you show more of this detail in the story [without outright stating it], I think it will pull the reader in a lot more. If you'd like help with any of the suggestions outlined above or in the document, let me know - I'm happy to clarify and assist.

All the best with your writing!

@Penstorm

@Riorlyne, Thank you SO much for all that you did. I opened the googledocs looking for your feedback and there was nothing listed so I don't know if I am looking at it right.
Thank you for the feedback and these chapters are the bones of a chapters so I know that I need a lot of work. It is hard for me because I see the scenes happening like a movie in my head so I try to write as much as I can and it turns into a big description or none at all.
If you are able to read the others chapters that would be a huge help if not I understand and thank you again.

@Riorlyne pets

@Riorlyne, Thank you SO much for all that you did. I opened the googledocs looking for your feedback and there was nothing listed so I don't know if I am looking at it right.

So sorry about this, I checked the privacy settings and somehow all my suggested edits were set to hidden. You should be able to see the inline feedback now at that link, which I'll paste again here.

@Riorlyne pets

@LittleBear - I finally got a good chunk of time to look at your second excerpt properly. As always, inline feedback here. I figured out a new way to comment, so if you could let me know which style you prefer (typing sentences directly into the document vs. typing comments in little boxes to the side) that would be great.

General Feedback

  • Tenses: I don't know if this was intentional or just due to the fact that it was a rough draft, but during the whipping scene and in Erion's recovery, you switch between past and present tense a lot. Some of these switches work (although my personal preference is no switches, with emphasis on personal) but others are a bit jarring.
  • Action: When multiple people are involved in the action, it can be hard for the reader to keep track of where everyone is. For example, when the house burns down, the last mention of the baby is when the mother's curled around him trying to ward off the smoke. However, it's the fact that there was a baby in there that makes Erion interrupt the Spy Master later, so I think the baby should at least be mentioned during the escape from the house, if not be at the forefront of Erion's mind.
  • Dialogue tags: I tend to be pretty picky with these, so apologies in advance. I would recommend that you insert some of your dialogue tags a little earlier into your characters' lines. This has several benefits: it alerts the reader who is speaking sooner; it fits better with emphatic tags (like spat, shouted, yelled, coughed, etc. - try spitting three lines of dialogue and you'll see what I mean); it adds variety to flow and pacing when tags are in different locations; and it means you are less likely to tack an additional adverb or action onto the tag, which is generally discouraged in fiction writing anyway. As an example,
    Replace

    “The subject is Halis Onrin, he will be in his residence in the Selian district,” Maious said as he handed me a slip of parchment.

    With

    "The subject is Halis Onrin," Maious said. He handed me a slip of parchment. "He will be in his residence in the Selian district."

In all, this section is very vivid and gripping. You can feel Erion's moral struggle and pain and there wasn't a single place where I felt that anyone's words or actions were out of character, even given the little I know of these characters. I loved the little touches of worldbuilding - the lush carpets, the smell of incense, the conscience of an Uradavi - and they came at just the right moments too - they didn't feel shoehorned in at all. I hope you want your readers to hate the Spy Master, because I most certainly do (I'm not feeling all that affectionate toward Erion's mother, either). I even learned a thing! (that we have two arteries in our neck)

If this is a rough draft, you must know your characters and setting extremely well, because it flowed beautifully. Whatever the sheer amount of minor edits in the linked document might lead you to believe, I really enjoyed this piece.

All the best as you continue with this story! If you have excerpts you want feedback on in the future, I am more than happy to assist. :)

@LittleBear group

@Riorlyne Thanks so much for catching all of my mistakes! And holy crap, I didn't notice that tense shift -whoops! I like this form of commenting because they're all just on the margin so I can read them much easier. And allow me to geek out for a moment…. YES! His mother is the main villain, I am so glad you were able to pick up on that. And to answer a few little questions, there is an entire pantheon of Gods and Goddesses, almost like the Greeks or Egyptians. And about Sela and why she is a blonde - they are all at a spy/courtesan training camp in Lian (think Egypt/Turkey), but most of them are from Darion (Italy/France) or other surrounding countries. They train there so that if they make a mistake and are discovered in Lian, they can still work in their home countries.

And lol in American English "storey" gives you the red squiggly!

@Riorlyne pets

Hi @NobleWolf - I'd be happy to! I've put most of my inline edits and comments here.

Dialogue

Writing dialogue is something I consider one of my strengths, so I'll outline a few tips here. :)

As you know, anything spoken is enclosed in quotation marks, like so:

"Where are we going?"

This works for sentences, exclamations and questions.

"Where are we going?"
"Not to the ballet, that's for sure."
"What? You're so mean!"

It's when we add dialogue tags that it gets trickier. Dialogue tags are anything along the lines of he said, she said, the general shouted, etc. The one condition is that the verb used in a dialogue tag has to be one that relates to speaking, so he nodded and she glanced don't work. Also, make sure that the dialogue tag fits the spoken words it's referring to so that the narrative flows more smoothly.

"I can't believe there aren't any packets of doughnuts in the express lane anymore!" she snapped.

  • That's too long of a line to 'snap'.

"No!" he hissed.

  • There aren't any s, sh or z sounds in that for the guy to hiss.

When you add a tag to dialogue, you can put it in a variety of spots: at the beginning, between two sentences, in the middle of a sentence, or at the end. (?), (!) (…) and (–) in the original dialogue remain unchanged when you add a tag, but full stops (.) change to commas (,) when a tag comes right after them. I'll use this piece of dialogue as an example:

"Mum, this broccoli is overcooked. It makes me feel sick."

  • Tag first

    She said, "Mum, this broccoli is overcooked. It makes me feel sick."

Notice how we use a comma after the tag, and begin the dialogue with a capital because it's the beginning of the spoken sentence. The tag also begins with a capital because it's the very beginning of the sentence.

  • Tag between two sentences

    "Mum, this broccoli is overcooked," she said. "It makes me feel sick."

Notice how we end that first bit of dialogue with a comma instead of a full stop so that we can add the tag. The tag starts with a lowercase (because it comes after the dialogue) and ends with a full stop because the next bit of dialogue is a new sentence.

  • Tag in the middle of a sentence

    "Mum," she said, "this broccoli is overcooked. It makes me feel sick."

This time, the tag ends with a comma because the sentence is not finished. The dialogue after the tag starts with a lowercase to show that the sentence is continuing from where it left off.

  • Tag last

    "Mum, this broccoli is overcooked. It makes me feel sick," she said.

Again, the dialogue ends with a comma so that we can add the tag.

Dialogue tags always start with a lowercase (except if they're names, obviously) when they come after a bit of dialogue, no matter what punctuation the dialogue ends with.

"Where are my shoes?" he asked.
"That's not fair!" she cried.
"I'm coming at 6 PM," the lady said.
"Maybe…" she murmured.
"I can't believe you'd–" she began. Thomas cut her off.

Additional actions do not start with a lowercase.

"I'm coming!" He raced for the door.
"I'm not sure." She glanced at her friend.
"Help! Hel–" Her cries were cut short as the door slammed shut.

A last note is that (…) is used for trailing off into silence, and (–) is used for being cut off abruptly.

I hope that this was helpful! Let me know if you have any questions. All the best with your writing!

@NobleWolf

@Riorlyne Wow! thank you for the feedback, and especially the dialogue tips. I really learned a lot. Was there anything you particularly liked, or did anything really stand out to you?