Beta reading part three - What I do as a beta

It all started here, as I was rambling about how it feels when changes I suggest make it into a manuscript.

Then I thought about the importance of beta readers and blogged about it in my last post: what beta readers have done for me, how their feedback improved my writing. I also asked the question: Why would someone want to spend at minimum four hours to beta read?

Today I decided to blog about what I do as a beta. All betas have different strengths and different pet peeves, and I think it's important to have varied opinions for a manuscript. My strengths can be found in plot and vocabulary usage.

There are so many times I read a book and am dissatisfied with the way the plot unfolds. A lot of those times, I rework the plot in my mind or extend some scenes. My mind isn't exactly wired in what would be considered normal and I think that helps me to catch small things in a book. For example, in the first chapter that floor was hardwood and now at the end it's carpet. That is so simple, could easily be missed, and overall is so unimportant to a book, but that is the kind of thing that sticks out to me.

There are several things I ask for up front, before I beta. What is expected of me is at the top of the list. I let the person know that I do not line crit, may or may not catch grammar and I'm a very positive beta. My notes that come back will probably be rambling as my mind works through what it wants to say. I don't mind, and in fact prefer first round, I'll even take it rough because I'm best at plot. Sometimes I read through something two or three times. I know my limits and don't ever want to sell something I don't have.

That is what I believe the key to successful betaing is: knowing up front what is expected and what the beta can do. Also, what will be reciprocated, since most betas will reciprocate. I have a list of people I've beta read for that have offered to do the same for me, one day I will probably ask that of them.

So why do I beta read? Is it to have someone read my stuff? Yes and no. I beta read because I love to read and feel I have something to offer. Having a reader available for me is just a major perk. So, what kind of beta are you?

Beta reading part two - what betas have done for me.

Why would a person want to beta read? Seriously. I've been thinking about the amount of time it takes to not only read, but make comments in an entire manuscript, and I've only beta'ed YA so I can't imagine a book over 100K words. Not that I would mind that, just haven't beta'ed anything that long, ever.

Why would someone want to send their work to a complete stranger, or at most, someone met in a chat room?

What responsibilities does a beta reader have to the person who's work they're reading?

First let me sum up what a beta is for someone who isn't in the writing community and stumbles on this blog. A beta reader reads an unfinished manuscript (by unfinished I mean not published) and gives feedback.

I remember the first time I had someone beta something of mine, it was scary. I was afraid that my book sucked and was about to be told I suck. (You do realize that my self-worth is wrapped up in a book, right? Yeah, not.) And guess what. The reader told me how wonderful so many parts were, tore it up completely with line crits and then told me it really needed to be in first person. The other beta reader said I should drop it to MG. I realized that book was no where near ready to be unleashed on the world of publishing. It was technically the first book I'd written since the drivel from middle school and needed a major overhaul.

Since that first book, which is patiently waiting to reveal it's voice, I've gone on to complete another book that was so much better than the first. A beta pointed out a habit I had that was bad and gave me examples to fix it. I went through the entire mani and fixed it. And for the next mani I worked on - the problem was gone and I now write better because of it.

Another beta I have constantly replaces verbs with better verbs, plus she adds description to some characters. Her feedback makes my work stronger. I never think about what the character may be wearing and adding a simple, "tapped her pointy heel" tells a lot about a character.

Another beta lets me know when I switch to passive voice and leaves great comments about showing instead of telling.

If those betas wouldn't have pointed out those problems, I wouldn't have improved as a writer. With every manuscript I write, I get better and I will continue to get better. I am grateful to these betas for being honest. I am grateful to all of my betas for the feedback they give. And I've never had a beta that I would not ask to beta again, even though some of the feedback was hard to take. And some of the feedback needed to be ignored, but that is what betaing is about.

All of my betas have opinions and those opinions may differ from my vision of the book, but that is great. What would the world be like if everything was red? It would get old fast. The next few posts I do will be on betaing, because I believe it is an important part of writing and has been on my mind a lot. Tomorrow I blog at GotYA, don't know what about yet, but I'll pick up these thoughts on Wednesday and share with you what I do as a beta.

If you want to leave a comment about what your betas do for you, please do. have a Happy Father's Day!

Teaser Tuesday - A LITTLE TOO LATE

It's time for Teaser Tuesday and since I haven't written anything in weeks I decided to post a scene from A Little Too Late when Lil, the MC, meets Danger-boy, aka Elijah. Elijah becomes an integral part of Lil's life. I also noticed the LI always gives the MC a nickname in what I write, just a weird fact.

Don't forget to check out yesterday's post for my book giveaway. I shamelessly want more followers and I love, love, love all you new followers. :) Even if I had to bribe you to be my friend.


I remember the first time I met him, first day of Senior year. Elation filled me as I dressed in a preppy skirt and polo shirt, cornflower blue, to bring out my eyes. Grabbing a pop-tart, I raced to my boyfriend’s car. I'd never had a guy pick me up for school, seemed like a summer of firsts for me. Sitting beside me was Adam, my boyfriend of two months. Not only the hottest guy in school, he was also popular and included me in everything he and his friends did.

Unfortunately he wasn’t the brightest guy in the world so we would have no classes together, but we would share lunch. Butterflies fluttered behind my ribs as I thought of lunch. Never before had I sat with the popular crowd, instead I sat with my friends at our own table. Sometimes I looked at the popular table with all of the smiling, pretty faces and wondered what it would feel like to belong.

I knew I would have to choose: my friends or Adam and his friends. Although I’d been going to all of the parties with Adam, I managed to find time to see my other friends during the summer when I wasn’t working. They didn’t understand my relationship with Adam, and I was never able to voice it. I just knew that he was it for me.

When we arrived at school, Adam got out of the car and grabbed his bag leaving me behind as he went to his friends who occupied a picnic table in the quad. I wrestled with my satchel that was tangled up in the seat and stumbled out of the car, catching myself on the door before I fell. Lame way to start the year. I felt as graceful as a possum.

Waddling up the sidewalk, I made a decision. I would ignore Adam and get to my first class, AP Chemistry.

As I was about to pass their table, Adam called to me. “Hey Lil, where are you going?”

I stopped and changed direction until one of his friends opened her perfectly-lined-and-lip-glossed mouth. “Come on, Adam. You know Little Miss Brain has to get to class," she sneered. "Did you think she’d continue to be a party girl once classes started?”

Heat rushed to my face. Before I could convince my tongue to tell her where to get off, I noticed him. Standing back from the group, leaning against a tree he looked dangerous. Shaggy blond hair fell in layers around his chiseled face and lips a girl would kill for smirked at me as if to say, Are you gonna let her win?

Beta reading

It's Summer and I'm going to try and post more. The other day we were discussing beta reading over at Absolute Write on the OPWFT thread. I compared it to being an aunt. Why? Because these manuscripts feel like part of my family and I get so excited when they find agent and publishing house homes.

My crit partner, the lovely Veronica Roth, became my partner when we were both at the same point in our dystopian manuscripts. It was almost like fate put us together. Where I am weak, she is strong. Where she is weak, I am strong. When she got her agent I was so happy, jumping up and down happy. When she got her deal, I was over the moon and actually scared my kids.

The same thing has happened over at GotYA with my group blogging buddies. I have been privileged to watch many of them get agents and for some I have been there since the beginning of their babies. When I read a later version of these mss and see something in there that I suggested I think, oh look, it's got my eyes.

Maybe I'm nutty. Well, actually I know I am kinda nutty, not stalker nutty of course :) but I do get invested in what I read. And quite frankly, some of the things I have betaed have been just as good, if not better than pubbed books I've read. I love watching an idea grow into a full-fledged book. It makes my heart full, probably because the process still amazes me. I find it amazing that someone can take an idea or a dream and write an entire book about it. Yes, I have written two and am working on two more, but that to me still seems surreal. I still consider it an honor when someone lets me read their work, a high honor because they are trusting me with something important.

Do you get attached to your beta reads?

Teaser Tuesday - A LITTLE TOO LATE

So, I'm actually posting. My life is about to settle out (no weekly commitments) and I hope to blog more and especially write more. I want ALTL finished by the end of June. Wow, 40K in a month. Hmmm, maybe I should just say end of July, yeah, that's doable. Then I'll finish Judgement and finally query my beautiful dystopian. Okay, maybe I'll query my dystopian while I finish Judgement. That sounds better. Anyway, here is a scene from ALTL. I must say, I love this group of friends so much. They constantly amaze me.


By lunch time my pregnancy and break-up with Adam was all over the school. People stared at me in the halls, several guys made lewd comments and offered their bedroom skills and Elijah was being wonderful. I still couldn’t believe he protected me against Adam.

An audible hush fell over the lunchroom. I know that sounds like an oxymoron but the silence was audible, I could hear and feel it. I grabbed a tray and joined my friends at their table.

“How are you?” Sanjay asked, his face scrunched up.

Keisha plopped down across from him. “How do you think, Sanj? Haven’t you heard all the gossip in the halls? This is the biggest news at the school since Clayton got caught in the janitor’s closet with the vacuum,” she said turning to me. “Did you really stick the pregnancy test down his pants?”

My cheeks heated. “No, actually I threw it at his face.”

“What is this about a vacuum cleaner,” Elijah asked as he sat beside me.

Keisha looked at me and then him. “You can find out about the vacuum anytime, stop trying to change the subject, Elijah, and why are you still hanging around with us?” she asked with a snarky tone.

Leave it to Keisha to speak her mind. She’d been like that as long as I’d known her and I admired the ease in which she shared her mind, even if it was uncomfortable some of the time.

Elijah put his fork down and leaned back in his seat. “Cause you remind me of my African Safari,” he said with a straight face. Sanjay fist bumped him.

“You so did not just go there, white boy,” Keisha leaned forward and scowled, her beads clicking together.

Cassie rolled her eyes, “Down, Keisha, down. You went to Africa, Elijah? That’s so awesome!” she exclaimed.

Elijah looked around the table. I decided to help him out.

“She’s really gullible. Believes everything you tell her,” I said. Keisha looked like she was trying to figure out if she should be offended.

We always joked around with each other but Elijah hadn’t been around long enough for us to be comfortable with him making jokes, at least not when it came to something as serious as race.

Keisha picked up a fry and tossed in at Elijah. It hit him and bounced into my plate. “So Jew-boy, should I be offended by your comment? You’ve only been around us for four days.”

Elijah raised his eyebrows and said, “I guess a more apt question would be should I be offended with your Jew boy comment. So do you have a problem with Jews?”

“Apt? What kind of person actually uses apt in a sentence?” Keisha asked, avoiding the question.

“Someone with brains,” Elijah smiled. “I’ve no problem with you, in fact I think your braids are sexy.” He winked as he slung his arm around the back of my chair.

Keisha looked from Elijah to me and then back again to Elijah. “You can just go on thinking parts of me are sexy but I’m spoken for. And my boyfriend will kick your ass,” she said with a smile.

“I wouldn’t risk it, Keisha,” I said. “After what Elijah did to Adam this morning, I think I’d stay on his good side.”

Elijah reached up and put his hand in my hair. “Your boyfriend has nothing to worry about, Keisha,” he said and I felt his gaze on my face. Part of me was thrilled while another part of me was scared out of my mind.

Flashback Friday - Styles of the 80's - 90's

Silly bandz. Very much in style. My children wear them, trade them, and give 'em away. My piano student got really excited when she saw me wearing four (given to me by my kids) I'm in style :)




When I was their age there were several things in style that I just had to have. A swatch watch, converses hightops - in yellow, jelly bracelets, bangle bracelets - I jingled like mad when I moved my arm and a bracelet like this charm bracelet:



I was allowed to start wearing make-up during the late 80's. I think I probably looked like a clown: Blue shadow on my lid with pink shadow above it, and colored mascara. I had pink, blue, green and my favorite: yellow. Oh my, and the metallic pink lipstick. And my hair. I had lots of bangs and I would curl them with the small curling iron and tease -yes, tease- then and spray the hell out of them with hairspray till the stood up about three inches and wouldn't move in a hurricane.



And the clothes. I had leggings, leg-warmers and lacy skirts from the 80's but the 90's were when wearing clothes for style became important. And what would I like? Grunge. T-shirts, no matter how ratty covered by men's flannel shirts paired with jeans - ripped, stained, didn't matter. I even had the black combat boots. My senior year in high school was my laziest year. I'd roll out of bed, throw on clothes, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on decent make-up and pull the hair back into a ponytail. Took me less than ten minutes to get up and out the door. OMG, and ball caps. I wore them ALL the time along with a black felt hat I talked a guy out of. And another guy stole my hemp ball cap, but that was college that I'd confiscated from another guy. This style followed me to college.



Wow, that all brings back many memories, good memories. What was your style like in the 80's and 90's? Old enough to have one? Let us know. Here is the mother post.

My eye surgery (lasik) experience

Okay, I've had so many people asking me about my surgery last Thursday that I thought it'd be a good blog topic, be warned - there will be bad language cause I'm going to be totally honest (plus I'm drinking wine).

Five years ago I began considering having my vision fixed. It all came about after reading the story of a man who was kidnapped with no glasses for an entire year. Dude. That.Is.Scary...poop in the pants scary for me. If I took my glasses off, I couldn't find them. I had to call the kids in so they could look for them.

Anyway, about a year ago I asked two Ophthalmologist friends about the surgery. After a lot of discussion, and being told who the best in the Southeast was, I thought about it. Three weeks ago I called my friend and she insisted she make an introduction to the surgeon. He called the next day and I really liked him. The next week I had an eval at the office and was considered an excellent candidate, plus they had an opening the following week for surgery.

Whoa, that was majorly fast (since I don't wear contacts, they could do the procedure fairly quickly) After thinking about it, finding the money (my grandmother's inheritance money) and making arrangements, I scheduled the surgery and didn't really think about it again.

Hubby picked up my meds: Vicodin (pain), Restoril (sleep) and antibiotic eye drops on Wednesday. Thursday I got up, showered as I was told (with baby shampoo for my eyes - totally reminded me of my babies), and went for the surgery. I was nervous. Hubby was talking at the office. I was nervous. He continued talking. All I could think was, "Shut the fuck up." They gave me a Valium.

Honestly, the one part of the surgery that worried me was the meds. I'm into natural stuff and with the exception of Motrin haven't taken a prescription in eight years. Believe me, from the time I was seventeen to the time my second child was born, I took more than my share.

I was feeling kinda light as I went into the surgery room. I laid on the table (the doc had already explained everything I would experience, from the lights to the possible smell) and was put under the laser. Now, I hadn't considered what was about to be done to me. Why? Because I trusted my friends who recommended this doctor. Both of them work with him and respect him. In fact, one of my friends is his boss, and in his own right is one of the best retina specialists in the country.

So, the numbing drops were put in and other things done, no I felt nothing but a slight pressure, then he said, "Now I will make the flap." All I could think was, "holy fucking shit this man is going to cut my eye." Reality set in. Hard. I freaked. Not outwardly, but inwardly. I called upon those meditation and yoga practices prettily heavily over the next few seconds, especially when he lifted the flap.

I'm a writer which means I have an active imagination. I could picture what was going on and I wanted about three more Valium. No longer was I worried about the effect the Valium would have, nope, I wanted the drugs! Needless to say it was over in a very few minutes and the flap was being smoothed back into place. It took less than ten minutes from start to finish.

Then it was time for the other eye. I seriously considered asking if we could skip that eye. I knew what was coming and the panic began rising again. When he said he was cutting the flap I dug my nail into my hand and focused on the pain in my hand. I would've bitten the side of my mouth but I was scared of moving my head. I was still freaking out. After the flap was cut and lifted the laser went to work for twelve seconds. Then the flap was smoothed back into place.

It was over.

We went out of the door to my husband, and I sat on the couch while they instructed him on the proper procedure of putting the eye drops in. The doc asked me how I was doing. I told him I was freaked out. We left, went to Chick-Fil-A where I got a soup, and after eating it, took a pain pill. Then we went home and I got a sleeping pill.

I slept for nineteen hours, waking twice for more meds, eye drops and food. Also a call from the doc - he wanted to make sure I was okay.

The next day I went for the follow-up. I now know what people mean by halos - wow, I even have to dim my lighted keyboard and can't wait for the eyes to completely heal. The good news - I have 20/15 vision.

Am I satisfied? Absolutely and I would do it again - with more Valium, and I mean a lot more ;)