Writing my first book has been anything but easy. And I still got a lot to learn, but #hiddentruthsseries has truly been a draining and wonderful experience. Being my first English book I know it won’t be perfect when I finally get it edited and send to editor and the likes. But it’s been in the works for years now and I still love the characters as much as the first time I wrote it. ⠀
Hey all, Sunny here with another writing post! This one is actually inspired by an ask I got recently about what I look for in beta readers. For any writers new to the process, this may be… a bit of a foreign term. I know it was for me. So, let’s talk about them!
What is a beta reader?
Think of beta readers as a collection of people who get the reader experience of your story before it’s published. The job of the beta reader is to give valuable feedback for your story that you as the writer may have missed. It can be a bit of a lengthy process, but for the writer it is very worth it, and the reader rests in the knowledge they’ve helped bring a story to life!
How should I approach beta readers?
Hey writers! First things first: thank you for searching for beta readers. Although it is an important step in the process, it is often overlooked, and this can lead to stories that read as half-finished. When you go through the beta reader process, understand that you are going to hear things you don’t like. People may not like the character you put hours into creating, and they may think your favorite subplot is pointless. Listen to your beta readers’ opinions.
Before anything else, define your specific need for beta readers. Everyone looks for different things because everyone has an individual process. For example, I am doing the beta reader phase before my final proofread, so I’ve asked my beta readers not to focus on grammar or spelling (though I’ve tried to polish everything as well as I can). What are you looking for feedback on? If it’s everything, define your ‘bonus point’ topics.
Once you’ve figured out what you’re looking for, decide how you want your readers to digest your story or stories. Here’s how I’ve seen some people approach this stage:
Send one story, section, or chapter at a time, with a survey or set of questions after.
Send a group of stories, sections, or chapters with a survey or set of questions after each.
Send a group of stories, sections, or chapters with a single, encapsulating survey or set of questions.
Send the entire story all together with embedded surveys or sets of questions.
Send the entire story all together with a single, encapsulating survey or set of questions at the end.
There are lots of different ways to go about sending stories to beta readers. It depends on what you’re looking for! A larger-scale send will give more general details about the piece overall, while individual sections or smaller groups lets your readers focus more on details.
How can I as a writer be fair to my beta readers?
If you’re new to the beta reading process, you may be caught between treating your readers well and treating yourself well. Here are some tips to make sure you both get the most out of the experience.
Firstly,define your expectations as clear as possible and as early as possible. If you have certain expectations, even if you think they should be implied, state them outright from the get-go. You’re looking for a one-week turnaround on your surveys? Tell them. You want them to focus on how your prose reads? Tell them. Your betas can read your stories, but not your mind; communication is key.
Because you’re looking to improve your story, engineer your questions to be as detail-oriented as possible. One easy way to do this is to long-answer Google Forms with the question, “Why?” after every question. Don’t just let your readers expand, encourage and expect it.
Get a big sample size! The more people you have reading the story, the easier it will be to spot a common thread. If one person doesn’t like this character, that’s one thing. If five or even ten people don’t, well…
Lastly, however, you have to be understanding of your beta readers. Each of them is a whole person of their own! If things get in the way of them matching your schedule, decide together how to best move forward. As the writer, it is your job to be understanding of people who are volunteering to read your story for free. You may hear that they can’t commit to reading anymore, or that the story just isn’t for them. Accept it and move on.
Best of luck on your beta reading! Go forth and improve your stories!
Word Count: 73,000 Genre: Apocalyptic, zombie, romance, LGBTQ+
I’ve recently finished going through the (very) rough first draft of my novel, Rabidand am ready to get some feedback. Please note: this is by no means a polished product. If you’re still interested, here’s the premise (TW for a virus in these uncertain times):
Set in modern-day Australia after a weaponised retrovirus has wiped out 95% off the population, and left the rest as feral, animalistic zombies known as rabids, Rabidis the story of two girls travelling across this barren, hellish landscape with only the vaguest hopes of survival spurring them on.
In a world of danger and uncertainty, only one thing is clear: when you get bitten by a rabid, you turn. This takes minutes at most, and is the one law that has shaped what remains of the country. The only problem? Heather was bitten three months ago.
She still hasn’t turned.
Searching for answers leads her to Casey, a doctor hiding out in a rural hospital, waiting for a rescue that’s never going to come. Together they form an unlikely alliance, and embark on a journey that will take them across the outback in search of a cure. Travelling from safe zone to safe zone, they encounter raiders, cultists, mad scientists, the military, and rabids.
Lots and lots of rabids.
If you’re interested, shoot me a message for more details! If you’re not interested, a share could really help get the word out to those who are <3
No longer in control of his actions or emotions, Justin stormed out of the cafe. He was angry. He had every right to be. He should have been spending the day with his new fiance. Instead, Milo had plucked him from his own life. His path and the road he wanted Justin to go down didn’t look good. He was forced to keep Amy in the dark and would turn into something without his consent. His anger had to be related to what Milo had done to him.
But at that moment, none of these things were clear to him. If he knew where his path was heading. He would have stayed there with Amy. He would have put as much distance between him and Milo, right then and there. But as he stood, he just knew he was angry, and not feeling he had any control, he followed Milo outside.
Justin reached for his shoulder when Milo grasped his arm. “Don’t touch me,” Milo growled, and rage in his eyes burnt through Justin’s soul. But Justin was too angry to let it bother him.
“Don’t threaten my girlfriend,” Justin barked. The next thing that happened was a blur. At first, Justin had thought Milo had punched him in the stomach as all the air left his body. It was only a few seconds later when he realized he couldn’t catch his breath and his feet were no longer on the ground. It was like being on a rollercoaster, but the downfall wasn’t slowing. It finally ended with him hitting the ground with a thud.
It took him a second to gather himself, and a few more to realize he was no longer in the city. And the cement was now cold wet grass as the crashing of waves could be heard in the distance. It wasn’t until then he saw a billboard on the side of the road. It had been there as long as he could remember. All who seek salvation have a place to go. At one point, there was the name of the church on the corner. But Justin had never seen it. Old and routing away when he was young. There was no way of reading it now. He knew where he was. They were about thirty miles out of the city. They somehow traveled in what would normally take forty-five minutes in less than thirty seconds.
“Are you alright?” Milo asked, circling him like a wild animal. Justin could barely nod his head when he was lifted into the air once more. This time when he got his barrens back, he was dangling over the side of the cliff, Milo holding him by the collar of his shirt.
“Starting now, you will show me respect.” Milo hissed as Justin clung to his arm.
“Don’t drop me.” Justin pleaded as both glanced down at the crashing waves and the jagged rocks below.
“I would probably survive this fall with little to no injuries,” Milo said. An ominous grin formed on his face. He was enjoying this. He enjoyed seeing Justin in distress. “I believe any other human would have no chance of survival. I’m not sure with my blood in your veins this will kill you.” He paused long enough for Justin to understand the implications. He wouldn’t die, but it would hurt. Maybe enough that he would wish he died.
“Are you going to start to listen to me now?” Milo asked. The chilly wind wiped through Milo’s clothes but did not have any visible effect on him. He stood tall and unmoving.
“Fine, Fine, I’ll listen. Whatever you say.” Justin wailed, trying to reach the ledge with his foot. He could feel the tip of his toe touch it, but was unable to get a grip. When he felt his stomach fall. Milo loosened his grip for a split second before pulling him back to the safety of the ground.
“What the shit,” Justin panted, tears forming in his eyes from the wind that still wiped through the air. “Why me? What do you want?”
Milo stooped next to him as Justin set up. “I told you. I have been asleep for over a hundred years. I know nothing about what is going on. I should have been awakened by my kind. But instead, I woke up in a morgue. I needed someone’s memories and thoughts of this time to help me figure out what was going on. To navigate this whole thing.”
All the signs of anger in Milo dissipated. “I chose you because you were there. But it didn’t work. I know no more than what I did before. Aside from understanding the new language.” He stood up, dusting his pants off. “You’re not the only one who is unhappy with the circumstances.” He turned, walking to the side of the cliff.
A moment ago, Justin hated this man more than anyone in his entire life. But now. But now he didn’t know how to feel. At that moment, he pitted the man. It wasn’t long ago that he lost his family. He reasoned with himself that this feeling resulted from losing his family as well. He had no reason to believe otherwise. He did not know the implications of being turned by Milo. He did not know that he would have little choice in how he felt about Milo on some level.
Instead, he began justifying Milo’s actions to himself. He, too, had done things that were out of character when bad things had happened. Justin stood up. Standing next to the man, neither of them spoke. Watching the waves of the ocean go in and out as the sun quickie rose high in the sky.
“What body of water is this?” Milo asked, breaking the silence.
“Atlantic.”
“So this must be the colonies?”
“Well, the USA now. But yeah.”
Neither of them looked at each other. There was a strange understanding that occurred without either of them having to say it. Now that he examined what was going on, he understood what Milo wanted from him. He needed help to find his family. Neither of them wanted to be stuck with one another. And after he found them. Justin could go back to his normal life.
“You can stay with me until you find them.” Justin offered without being asked, immediately regretting it as the words left his lips.
“How kind of you?” Milo answered, already knowing Justin would offer even before the question was asked.
There are times in one’s life when you feel you have been swept up by everything. When you feel you have no control over your life and your only choice is to cling to whatever you can. Even if that thing is pulling you down. Never knowing just how far you will fall before you can get back up. Always in hope that you have hit the bottom and the only way forward is up. Only to find there is another lower level and your only choice is to let time do its thing. And to hope you are not too damaged by the end of the ride.
The last thing he remembered when he regained consciousness was nearly being killed. The blood of the Necrobeast pumping through his veins. His heartbeat had been slow enough that there was time to extract the poison before it had made it to his heart.
His survival that day landed solely on the fact that he had not drunk from a human for a few weeks. It wasn’t something every one of their kind could do. For him, it comes down to discipline and tea. A small amount of blood was added to sustain his existence. Not quite the same as drinking from a fresh body. But it kept his heart moving just enough to function between feedings.
He didn’t refrain from the kill for any moral dilemma. His kind needed it to live, after all. Something he came to terms with millennia before now. The tea he made would get him through the weeks he didn’t eat. Sustaining his heartbeat by about 15 beats per minute. A few people in his life would ask if he did this so that he would have to kill less. He would never answer them. But if he were to, it would be something along the lines, Don’t be ridiculous, what do their lives matter to me?
His reason was simply that he enjoyed the adrenaline in his veins, matching the adrenaline in his victims. The feel of the blood coursing through his own nearly vacant veins. The blood crashed through his system like an unexpected storm. Renewing everything all at once. His reward for keeping up such a rigid structure in his everyday life.
That familiar feeling stirred through him as he awakened from the deep sleep he had been in. But the refreshing feeling he so longed for wasn’t there. Replaced with a sharp pain. The liquid coursing through his body cut through his veins. The more he awakened, the more unbearable it became. His eyes stung and his mouth ached when he tried to speak.
He wouldn’t panic, though there was much that could have gone wrong. The black blood had not killed him. Or perhaps he had killed him. He had only experienced the black blood once. They must have put him in a permo-sleep. But for how long, now that was the question. He did not know how long it would have taken for his body to heal.
He’d gone to sleep in the catacombs, a sanctuary for weakened or tired Kaw-Sekhmu, who needed more than a few hours of rest to recover. His kind typically needed only half the sleep required by a human, but there were times at which a Ka-Sekhm would require much, much more. When one grew bored with life itself and wanted to sleep through to another era—or, as in his case, when one was so badly hurt that the only thing that could save them was to rest until the body recuperated. They could spend decades or centuries resting in one of the glass coffins that filled the walls of their family mausoleum. Only a select few Kaw-Sekhmu knew the true location of the catacombs. And no other creature was permitted anywhere near. Something terrible must have happened.
He could hear a faint voice, no two. Two people were talking. He didn’t recognize them.
“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow!” A soft woman’s voice came from across the room, calling out to someone as she drew nearer. She felt human, the heaviness of her steps, the way she breathed. His kind still could breathe, but it was much quieter, and mostly only did so when it was necessary, and in most cases, it wasn’t. Speaking, eating, drinking, extra.
As he got more feeling in his body, he became aware he wasn’t wearing any clothes. A sure sign that things were truly dire. A thin, cheap blanket draped over his entire body. That was when he noticed the sharp pain in his neck. Pumping something other than blood into his body. A strong chemical smell insulted his nostrils.
He could hear the woman sigh as she lifted the blanket from around his ankles. “It clotted again. Why does this keep happening?” as she said this, he felt a prick in his ankle. Blood poured out, then drip, then. “Damn it. I’m going to be here all night because of you. What is going on with you?” She pricked his ankle one more time, and once more, the same thing happened.
Then it happened, as if in a realization, something clicked. He felt the panic wash over her before she did or said anything. She cursed to herself, pulling whatever it was out of his neck. Raising across the room, then back at his side. Pulling the blankets off, he could feel something cold against his chest as she sighed. The panic subsided within her. “Don’t be stupid, why would he…” He could feel her weight on his chest. “What is with your blood?” She asked before cutting into his collar, plunging the tube back into his neck.
Still unable to move. To tell her he indeed had not been “dead” but merely sleeping when he heard a small click. Before he could question it, music played. This was the first clue that things had changed in the world. Things lingered. Clothes, music, culture. Only really became apparent when there were enormous gaps. This music eluded him. He could tell there was only one person in the room with him. And yet, multiple voices and instruments echoed through the room.
He would just have to find out. Focusing all his attention, he performed a trick he was quite good at. One moment, his vision was dark. The next he could see the room through her eyes. A room of metal. Try as he might, he couldn’t see where the music was coming from. She was the only one in the room.
Next to him were two tables. White blankets covering them. He wondered if the people under them were as dead as he was. That is to say, not at all. Pain shot his arm as she moved it. She did this for a few minutes until she was called out of the room by another strange sound. Milo could move his fingers, finally able to examine what was under his eyelids. Slowly removing a substance that held his lids shut and then removing the pointed disks underneath. Then moved to his mouth where he found a thin, but strong piece of thread that held his jaw in place.
As he set up, his stomach lurched as he saw the frightened look on the women’s face. A plastic visor over her head, paper clothes that couldn’t have protected from any elements. What was the weather like in this time period? He truly hoped this was not meant to be the fashion of the time.
He took pride in being able to blend in with the high society of any place he had gone. But he couldn’t ever wear that. He would much sooner go back into the ground for another 100 years than be caught wearing something that despicable.
But his thoughts were quickly brought back to the present, to a slack-jawed woman. “But, but…..How.” Her eyes grew wide with a shaking hand pointed his way. “I checked, I…” The confusion melted away, replaced with fear as she scrambled to pick up the metal box she dropped. “I’ll call.” Her fingers hovered over the screen. “Who do I call when? I thought you were dead.” Her voice was small and shaky.
“No need to get anyone else.” He said in a smooth voice. He had pulled himself up, his legs dangling from the table, the blanket draped around his lap. “It appears I’m naked. You don’t happen to know where my clothes are, my dear?”
Her finger slowly pointed to a bag that held his clothes. As she began to quickly ramble about how they would have normally just cut the clothes off. But they had been far too nice. This caused quite a stir among everyone at the morgue. The clothes would suggest he had money, but why was he found in a ditch with no ID. Homeless, actor, eccentric billionaire.
“Do you mind?” Milo interrupted her ramblings, nodding to the pile of clothes. Hoping to get the girl to stop talking. “I’m having a hard time moving. Would you be a dear and aid me? It’s the least you could do, after attempting to embalm me.”
Moments later, she was fixing the last button on his jacket, mumbling that this couldn’t be happening the whole time. When he placed a hand on her cheek. “Look at me. You have nothing to fear.” As she did, her body became weak. All her worries seemed to melt away. And the events of that night were no longer a mystery.
“I didn’t think vampires were real.” Answering a question that was never asked.
“What makes you think that’s what I am?” Milo asked. Normally, he would hate being called something as low as a vampire. He was something far superior. Any self-respecting Ka-Sekhm would never allow someone to mistake them for the loathsome Netopuri, the monsters that most refer to as the vampire.
But with all that was going on, he let himself find amusement in this. “Vampire, you say? No, not a vampire. I can walk in the sun, I can be seen in silver, and I have a heartbeat.”
“Your accent?” She said in a daze. “It’s so strange. European, old English?”
As he spoke, he reached for her hand, placing it onto his chest. Her hand was warm against his cold skin. The small twitches in her hand, her body trying to tell her to run away, were only known to Milo. At first, there was no heartbeat. Then there it was. Budump. A few more seconds passed before a second budump.
“This is just as unpleasant for me as it is for you. I would much prefer it to be beating faster than this.” Milo’s words were slow and soothing. Giving the girl more reason to relax.
“Is there a way you can do that? Make your heart beat faster, that is?” she asked, forgetting her fear. More fascinated by whatever was going on than what he could mean.
“It’s very simple.” She didn’t notice the wicked grin that grew on his face. “And you can help me.” She looked up at him, about to ask what she could do, when she noticed his teeth. His canines were much larger. Split in two, gadget. All at once, she knew how he would restore his heart.
At that same moment, a dread that she had never felt before rushed through her as she tried to pull away. His smile was unchanged by her attempt to get away. Delighting in her struggle. A moment later, his teeth were in her neck.
Taking all he could and then some. He let her fall, dry meat collapsing in a heap that didn’t even warrant a glance from him. As he stepped over her. He gently looked under the blankets of others in the room. But neither was he. He didn’t have time to worry. Humans were, on a whole, not a threat. But he had no desire to stay when he was so blind at the moment.
Reaching for his top hat, he glided out of the room without a second glance. Stopping only once to clench his stomach as an unknown pain quickly went through him.
Delivering Criticism: Balancing Honesty and Helpfulness
Something I’ve heard people say when I tell them to be a beta-reader is: “I’d like to beta-read more, but I’m afraid of offending people with criticism!” “I’m afraid of being mean!”
I get it. As hard as getting feedback is, giving feedback can oftentimes be as scary. But I’ve got some secrets for you.
First off, if someone didn’t want feedback on their writing—especially for fanfiction—they wouldn’t ask for a beta-reader. When someone asks for a beta-reader, they are expecting mistakes to be found in their work. And the biggest disservice you can do for them is ignore those mistakes in an effort to be “nice.” Second off, it’s not nice to lie to someone who has asked for honest feedback and tell them, “Your story is perfect, no errors!” when there are in fact places that they could’ve fixed.
After that, there’s four important things to keep in mind to make sure your feedback is honest and helpful, without being unnecessarily harsh.
Yes, this is soimportant. Beta-reading should be about the story/writing, not the writer.
And finding at least one good thing in the story can make the difference between building the person’s confidence because they know they did at least one thing right and it’s worth continuing, and them give up and stop writing altogether because what’s the use if there’s nothing worthy in there?
I don’t think beta-readers/editors always realize how much power they hold over the writer and how they can lift them up or crush them.
Do you like High Fantasy Worlds? What about Majority Queer Casts? Rebellion Narratives? Analyses of Vengeance vs. Justice vs. Atonement? Family, bothfoundandestablished?Neurodivergentand/orNonbinary Main Characters?
If you answered yes to any or all of the above, I have just the beta-ready WIP for you!
My novel Firebreathershas reached an editing stage where I’m ready for a few outside perspectives!
Ember Timber has grown up with one death after another painting the backdrop of their life, and it’s left them and the remainder of their family struggling to keep their grip on the frayed edges of Ehlven society they call home. Ehlven society, where militarism, fear, and poverty are woven deep into the fabric of life. When they join a rebel group known as the Firebreathers, they find an opportunity to change their life–and those of others–for the better.
And just when they think they’ve found their footing, the world calls their bluff, whisking them into involvement of a much grander scale than they ever wanted, because stories never actuallyend with the rebellion, do they?
Narration Style: First person, present tense. Multi-POV Target Audience: New Adult, Adult Blend Pitch: Mistborn x Avatar: the Last Airbender x Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood Themes: Anti-Imperialism, trauma and recovery, the pitfall of idolization, identity, stigma surrounding mental illness, and the differences between vengeance, atonement, and justice.
Important Info:
Firebreathers clocks in at 148k words (or about 600 pages)
The reading period is from Dec. 15th, 2021toFeb. 28th, 2022
I am mainly looking for feedback on pacing, character likeability/memorability, andnarrative inconsistencies, though I am open to all kinds of things you might bring up!
Trigger warning information for Firebreathers can be found on the sign up form. As this is a story with a strong focus on mental health (especially trauma and abuse) and imperialism, please keep in mind that it gets quite dark at times, even if it starts out lighthearted.
If it sounds interesting but you want more information, here’s the tag(excerpts are almost all pulled from first draft, if that’s important to you) and the official intro!
How to sign up:
Fill out this form! All you need to beta read is an ability to read the draft somehow (including Text-To-Speech!) and availability during the reading period. I’ll also have questionnaires to fill out to help you organize your thoughts, if you need them!
also a very big thank you to both @ashen-crestand@aelenko for the help with setting this post up!!! i owe u both a lot of internet hugs and also my firstborn <3
I’m looking for beta readers to read the first 4 chapters of my Adult Epic Fantasy novel, The Blue Flame. I will provide a link to a google document containing the chapters. At the end of each chapter will be a link to a form where you can answer around 6 questions and provide additional feedback.
Word Count: 11,900
Shoot me a message if you’re interested!
The Blurb
Fear the light, not the dark.
A shadow lurker has placed a target on Erador. He refuses to visit the Shadow Realm after the deadly encounter. In the midst of trying to overcome his trauma, a witch comes to Lucrethia.
Yulei promises to cure the dying Master. Erador knows it’s too good to be true. It doesn’t help that the entire continent wants the Master dead. Erador is convinced Yulei will kill him.
Atrocities have arisen since her arrival. Crops are diseased, people are revolting, and the Raven has been freed from his cage. The worst of it—the Master’s favored are being murdered, and Erador is on the list.
Lucrethians believe Yulei will save the Master. Erador can’t get rid of her, not unless he can prove she’s a hoax. The blue flame in her brooch is the only link. To find answers, Erador is forced to venture into enemy territory and walk the unsafe places in the Shadow Realm.
Will Erador overcome his fears of the lurkers, and expose Yulei to save his dying father? Or will he let the light win?
*finds nearly identical sentence in the next paragraph*
I once described a sword twice, very similarly, two paragraphs after first describing it. Meant to update the first one and move it, but just left the original for a beta to find for me XD
I’m editing my book to send to my beta readers/ friends/ unwilling victims of my weirdness, and Im almost at one chapter I absolutly love and Im so excited to reread it!
Thanks so much to our fabulous santas, who worked very hard to create a gorgeous and diverse sleigh-load of gifts with which to bless the fandom! What a beautiful flood of festive tmr content for us all to swim in!!
We hope that you all had fun this year, both creating and receiving your gifts, and thank you so much to those of you who have shared your excitement, both here on tumblr and in our tmr discord (contact @comebacknow if you’d like to join us there, it’s lots of fun!).
We have reallyappreciated seeing all the reblogs, screaming, livereads and guesses; not only is it a wonderful act of celebration of all the hard work that our santas put in, but it encourages us and keeps us going!
Please continue to reblog and share the stunning creations we have been gifted by this year’s santas! Reblog, rec, tag, comment - show our dedicated creators some love!
Santas:
if you want to post your creations on your own blogs, or anywhere else, go for it!
We’d be really, really grateful if you could tag/mention “tmrss20″ when you do
Also, go ahead and thank your betas, cheerleaders, or houseplants if you want to - there’s no longer any need for secrecy! ♀️️♀️
We’d like to personally thank the following people:
@whiterubys for designing our fabulous banner and icon - check out Anne’s blog for more gorgeous gifs and edits!
You’re all absolute ⭐STARS⭐ and we appreciate your help so very much!! We could not run tmrss without having amazing pinch hitters who we can trust and rely on; you’re absolutely crucial to the event and to making sure that nobody is left without a gift. Thank you, tmrss angels!!!!!!!
And, last but certainly not least! Thank you ever so much to the kind, thoughtful santas who went out of their way to bring some extra festive joy to the two of us and to allow us to get involved in the fun guessing games!! We loved our gorgeous, hilarious fic and our beautiful, personalised art so very much!!!!! You made us very happy, thank you!!
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Thanks again everyone for participating this year! Hope you had fun!
“Authors retain all rights to works posted on BetaBooks, and can add or remove content at their discretion. BetaBooks makes no claim to any of the work posted on the site.”
Incase anyone was wondering
Thank you for sharing! Especially about the copyright protection
This is fantastic! I’ve shared it with all my writer friends and hope that they have a ton of success!
I love how this melds manuscript culture and digital reading interfaces. What a cool way to circulate texts and document feedback.
