Thanks a lot for the advice! I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it better, and this is really helpful 
5 Likes
Summary
I’ve added some “Common Advice I Give” notes to the OP, but copied here if you don’t want to scroll up. It’s long-ish.
10 Likes
A little under 600 words, in order to ensure that it did not break off in a rather awkward point.
Excerpt
On the night before his graduation, Alexius once again dreamed of those green eyes. The very same brilliant emerald orbs that had haunted him forever.
It was a warm summer night at Regus Aula, the towering skyscraper of brick and concrete that had served as the home of House Aeternus since the days of Amadeus Invictus Aeternus, the Founder King.
Under the shimmering pale moonlight that filtered through the glass windows, Prince Alexius dreamed. He dreamed of sparkling stars and silver lakes. He dreamed of an endless primeval forest.
Leaves and branches swayed rhythmically in the wind. Above the thick canopy, flickering stars dotted the night sky like tiny diamonds.
The foliage on the ground rustled beneath his shoes, flying up with every step.
At the foot of the ancient willow trees, small woodland critters—rabbits, raccoons, and beavers, darted around, blissfully unaware of his presence. Except for the distant melody of songbirds, they were his only companions.
Enveloped in the serenity of the enchanted forest, he sensed magic in the air. A different kind of magic from the one he was familiar with. Here, the currents of magic were stronger, more primal.
A meadowed breeze caressed his skin, and the fragrance of a thousand wildflowers filled his nose.
An uncontaminated stream rolled over the rocks, water shimmering under the light of the two moons. It was such an unusual sight—twin orbs of pale blue light watching over the silent summer night.
On the banks of the stream colorful, unfamiliar amphibious creatures hopped around in the welcoming lush vegetation.
Following the myriad colored lights of the wisps, he came upon a shining city. Its golden spires towered over the ancient forest. Surrounded by sparkling lakes, the beautiful city seemed to have descended from Aetherius above.
The city drew him in as a flame draws in a moth. As he crossed the rainbow bridge above the lakes, his gaze was transfixed on the titanic ivory statue of the winged goddess watching over the gate. In all his days, he had never seen a figure sculpted so masterfully. The intricacies of her emblazoned armor would put any Ascailan master to shame. Most spectacular was her face—it was as beautiful as it was lifelike.
He delved further into this city of dreams. A city without walls. Its architecture featured intricately carved motifs with nary a sharp edge.
The spiral towers stood in concentric circles. Its walls, made of marvelous stones, subtly changed colors with the angle of viewing, eventually traversing the entire spectrum.
Tall trees flanked the streets laid with precise measurements all of which led back to the towering golden palace at the distant center.
At every intersection, exquisitely decorated fountains ceaselessly shot streams of sparkling water high above, which refracted the light of the two moons and illuminated the magnificent stepped gardens.
People walked all around him. Unaware of his presence. At first glance, they looked human. Very beautiful humans. Nevertheless, upon closer inspection, it became clear they were something else. Something he had only read about in stories—elves. They had sharper features, were slenderer, but most distinctive of all were their long, pointed ears.
The elves were in a hurry, preparing for something. Panicked. Afraid.
Then he saw why.
Through the large flaming portals that had materialized out of thin air, emerged throngs of infernal creatures—horned daemons, shadow beings, monstrous behemoths.
The city was under siege.
Men, women, and children screamed and ran as the monsters fell upon them.
2 Likes
May, 2008
Dust motes danced in tendrils of moonlight, disturbed by a stream of smoke flowing from Filip’s cigarette. Ingrid sat up in bed and piled her sweat-streaked hair on top of her head. She needed some air that didn’t reek of tobacco.
Her damp locks dropped over her bare breasts as she fished for clothes on the carpet. They might have had the apartment to themselves, but it didn’t feel right to be walking around naked.
“Where you going?” Filip asked, exhaling more smoke.
Ingrid had opened the door and picked her way down the dark hall, towards the living-room. Furniture cluttered every spare centimetre of the place, even on the balcony – which seemed better suited to a botanical garden than an eighth-floor flat.
Clouds and eerie whistles floated on the breeze. Ingrid shuddered, crossing her arms over her chest. Her steam-glazed skin caught the chill through Filip’s thin T-shirt. As if summoned by her thoughts, the boy himself stepped through the balcony door with a blanket which he wrapped around her shoulders.
“steam-glazed” read a little odd to me. “Sweat-glazed”? “Steamy”?
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he whispered. “I never tire of this view.” He kissed her neck and tightened his embrace. “Just how I never tire of you.”
Ingrid rolled her eyes at the moon. “Don’t you get sappy on me.”
“It’s not sappiness, it’s sincerity.”
“Yeah, right.”
He chuckled, nibbling at her earlobe. “I’ll be right back.”
Ingrid found a stool to sit on after her boyfriend left. He returned with cold beers and joined her among the flowers, leaning against the wall, lighting another cigarette.
“Cheers,” she said.
They clinked their bottles. He took a quiet sip, puffed out some smoke and offered her a go. She shook her head and drank more beer. Silence grew, fragile, broken by a long, heavy sigh from the depths of Filip’s tortured lungs.
“What are we gonna do, Ingrid?” he wondered aloud.
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… us.” He waved a hand between them. “What are we gonna do with us? Do you want to… do you wanna try long distance or… To be honest, I think it could work. I can – I could come home every other weekend, my mum would love it. And you could visit me. Then after you graduate – ”
“Filip – ”
“I mean, your degree takes only, like, three years, right? You could move up to Bucharest for a job after – ”
“Filip, listen – ”
“– and we could move in together! How awesome would that be? If only we can make the long-distance work for three years – ”
“Filip, I’m leaving the country.”
Ingrid didn’t look away from the moon, even though his eyes drilled holes into the side of her skull. A train screeched in the distance, its tracks hidden behind buildings. The smell of linden flowers wafted up with the wind.
“…What?” Filip’s voice was barely there.
Like a dormant giant, the city spread at their feet. Greenery had sprouted between the tired old blocks of communist flats. Most of them only numbered four storeys, with the occasional ten-floor building spiking up across the skyline. Further out, low hills rolled along the horizon, verdant in daytime, mere bumps and humps in the night.
She lowered her eyes to the concrete mosaic on the balcony floor. “I’m going to England. I… I got accepted at a university in London, I’m flying out in August – ”
“ What?! ”
“Look, Filip – ”
“So you wouldn’t come to Bucharest with me but you’re going all the way to fucking London? I can’t believe it!”
“Filip – ”
“And you’re telling me now ?”
Ingrid bolted upright. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you! I knew you’d be throwing a fucking tantrum and I’m not – ”
I’d probably amend this to “I knew you’d throw a fucking tantrum…”
Filip smashed his bottle into the half-wall opposite him. The beer trickled to her toes.
My conclusion:
Your writing is nearly impeccable, which is great. What threw me a little is that Filip was talking about long-distance and making it work, then when Ingrid tells him she’s going to London, all of a sudden that goes out the window. I get the idea that she didn’t want to go to Bucharest with him, but since we don’t know what country they are in right now, it’s hard to gauge just how much of a distance that would be. Why is he okay with figuring out a long-distance relationship one minute and the next, he’s not?
I don’t really see much of a hook here. She’s going to London, he’s going to Bucharest, and their relationship already seemed headed toward a kind of long-distance thing either way, so why does her moving to London to go to school make that much of a difference? I’m not sure where the story may be headed at this point: they part ways and live their own lives? Is this revelation to Filip what jumpstarts the rest of Ingrid’s story? Is Filip important to the rest of the story, or was he just her boyfriend at the time before she moves to London? If it’s just to showcase what her life was before she leaves, I think you could probably cut this out and reference it in passing later. Right now, the only stakes I can see are that Filip is mad that she’s leaving, and considering he seems a little ragey, my immediate thought is “Good, she needs to get away from this guy.” But that’s it. Going to university in a different country isn’t that unusual, so what makes this special?
Your descriptions and introductions to your characters are good (and excellent examples of just enough description to set the scene while not taking away from your characters), I’m just not sure this is the event that changes the direction of your characters’ lives. I’d probably spend a little time considering what makes your plot start (whether it’s this intro or something else) and then establish some stakes and a “hook” that makes your readers say “Ooh, why did XYZ thing happen?”, which makes them want to keep reading to find out. Is it a love story? A historic drama? Something else? What is the story and what event makes it start? What conflict is there that happens to Ingrid, and is it Filip or something else? If it’s Filip, you can still work in an intro that highlights this, but if it’s something else, I’m not sure the scene with him is necessary. I’d love to see an intro that gives us a little more context for what we can expect from the story moving forward.
5 Likes
Well, Bucharest is in Romania and he says he can easily make the trip home, so I figured the country would be obvious, haha, but I will reconsider name-dropping it lol.
Yes and yes. We’ll keep going back to Filip throughout and she comes home for a high school reunion for the first time in 10 years.
Yep, that’s the point 
And basically Ingrid just keeps getting away from guys lmao
I don’t like ‘steamy’ and it was ‘steamed’ before lol which made it sound like she’d been cooked by Hannibal or something 
I’ll see if something better occurs to me, for now it’ll have to be ‘steam-glazed’ lol. Does ‘steam-layered’ sound any better? 
Ooh, okay, good point!
Thank you Seajay 
6 Likes
Thanks for the wonderful offer! Love the thread title by the way. I feel like this is the closest I’ll ever come to being on Dragons Den 
First 619 words of my novella, Diwa and the Monster Hunt.
Summary
THE APARTMENT LOOKED EXACTLY how Diwa expected a monster’s den to look. It was cramped, with patterned rugs on the floor, (to hide the scratches, most likely) and a dusty smell in the air that reminded the eight-year-old of her grandmother’s old lint-covered coats. She wrinkled her nose.
With the amount of adoration in Papa’s eyes when he talked about his new wife, Diwa would have thought they’d be living in a mansion.
But what did she expect from those Papa-stealing monsters anyway?
Sighing, she gave one last longing glance at the front door and followed her father further inside. A rush of heat hit her, so thick she could feel it on her tongue. The humidity made her hair perk up from the ponytail.
“Aw, and this must be Diwa!”
The child looked up, meeting eyes with her stepmom (though Diwa preferred the name stepmonster), who stuck beside her new husband like glue, dashing him fluttery looks and smiles every second.
“Hey,” Diwa grumbled.
The stepmonster smiled warmly. “Oh, it’s so good to have you here!”
Diwa couldn’t say the same. “Mhm, it’s nice to meet you,” she replied, to which the stepmonster gave another blinding smile. They had only met her once, at the wedding, but it was enough to conclude she preferred her with the veil on than without.
“Layla, dear, you up for a house tour?” Papa suggested, nudging her; a grin on his face.
She returned the smile. “You know it.”
The stepmonster led them through the apartment, pointing out every heirloom and useless object. Her father clapped at everything his doting wife showed them.
“And here,” Layla said, “Is the photo-wall.”
There were dozens of photos crammed together on a small wall between the kitchen and living room.
“We have pictures from our wedding right here.” Layla pointed to a bundle of images with a blur of flashing white dresses and equally flashing smiles. Pushed behind many pictures of the star couple, Diwa even saw a picture of herself.
“Ooh and look, here’s baby Rose!”
Behind the dozens of wedding photos, was a picture of a chubby baby, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. It was weird to see Rose with her hair out of place.
After Layla pointed out a few more photos, they moved on to the book collection. Diwa wasn’t a big fan of chapter books and that was all the stepmonster seemed to have. Actually, Diwa wasn’t a fan of books in the first place. Her father, on the other hand, was eager to see them all, read every title, listen to Layla explain the whole story of what the book was about and another story of how she managed to get hold of it.
Bor-ing!
Diwa half-listened to their chatter for what felt like an hour. She resorted to staring at the back of Layla’s head in boredom, watching the swish-swishes of the women’s straight blonde hair. Diwa wished her hair was that straight.
Finally, finally, they moved on from the books and photos, into the rest of the apartment. Diwa had to admit, despite being stuffy and dusty, at least her stepmom had the decency to clean up before they arrived. It made Diwa question whether the stepmonster was really a monster. She pushed the thought away.
They finally stopped at a rusted door, with a faded sign that read, ‘Rose’.
Layla pushed the door open. “This is it. The girls’ room. We’ll have to add your name to the door as well.”
Diwa was surprised by the amount of sincerity in the stepmonster’s voice. She tried to ignore it; to convince herself it wasn’t real. She wouldn’t fall for it like she had last time. “It’s…nice.”
4 Likes
Okay I feel super bad that I haven’t gotten back to these. I promise I haven’t forgotten, I’ve just been really preoccupied with a different project. @JustM, @W.L.Ink, and @Astralise – if you’d like to repost your excerpts (if they’ve changed), please do and I’ll try to get to them this week.
I’m still on hiatus for additional slots, but I’m hoping to reopen them again sometime next month.
6 Likes
I’ll post my excerpt tomorrow since it’s gone through a lot of changes 
2 Likes
… Tomorrow turned into five days later and I’m so sorry
Updated 600-ish Words
Working with parts as small as screws, one had to be careful to not break anything - lest you lose an entire project. Reaching around for one, I grasped the small rivet and twisted it straight into its spot. I only ever worked on inventions once, but after that, I either loved the creation or hated it. This project, though, had to work.
Yet, the screw refused to lie flat against the surface of the mahogany. With a flourish, I unscrewed the annoying hiccup and tossed it in the air where it floated above my head, swishing from left to right. I grabbed a bowl of various fasteners from across the desk and tossed the loose contents up into the air, scanning to find the correct screw as they spinned and twirled in the air.
Here in Timekeep, nothing else existed. When I told time to stop, it listened.
Scanning dozens of different fasteners, the perfect screw hung in front of the unmoving flame of my oil lamp. I grabbed it, twisting it into the open slot. I swiped my hand across the smooth wood and squealed when everything laid flat as I planned.
Lifting my project, I sat it up and hummed. A mahogany rectangle kept the invention level with my workspace. A slab of the same wood held an inlaid circle of smoothed quartz that sparkled in the light. Two pieces of hammered iron, one longer than the other, were secured to the center with a smaller shard of hammered iron.
Excitement bubbled underneath my skin and overflowed in the form of a wide smile. Grasping the bowl, I scooped the air to gather everything, taking great care to catch all of them, then set the bowl down.
I had to show Lamai.
With a snap of my fingers, the sound of chirping birds resumed from behind my shuttered window and the oil-fueled fire flickered to life. A familiar clicking of hurried heels caught my attention and I swiveled around in my chair to face the door, smirking when it slammed open.
The first thing I always noticed about Lamai was the beauty mark that sat below her right eye - her mark mirrored mine. As I gazed up into her eyes, though, concern and worry riddled them, and my smirk melted from my lips.
“What’s going on, Lamai?” I sat up in my chair and picked up the tools that laid around on my desk, placing them back into their containers.
Lamai huffed. “I forgot to tell you, but Intelligence wants to speak with you before you continue on with your schedule today.”
I frowned. “What else am I doing today?”
“Ma’am,” Lamai strained, “I just told you five minutes ago that you had a full schedule today. You honestly don’t remember?” I looked at my invention in front of me and she groaned. “Of course not.” She motioned toward the item on the desk with a limp hand before placing it on her hip. “What’s it called this time?”
Familiar bubbles rubbed under my skin and I giggled. “I’m going to call it a clock.” I placed a hand over the top of the clock. “With magic, you can tell the time of day - all the way down to the very minute! Isn’t it marvelous?”
Glowing numbers popped up along the edge of the inlaid quartz. The number twelve appeared at the top, followed by a number one to the right of it, and increased in number value until it reached twelve. I giggled when it sparked to life; a thin sliver of blue magic ticked to the right and signaled the movement of the two hammered pieces to follow.
3 Likes
You’re talking to the lady who let this thread languish for like 3+ months, you’re fine
I’ll take a look tonight.
2 Likes
Hahaha 
True. And yay! Rip it to shreds o.o
3 Likes
This feels extraneous. Why are we talking about screws first thing in your story?
I think the mention of the one invention isn’t necessary. This is still mostly extraneous.
Oh okay, now we’re finally getting something more interesting than projects and screws. You might consider cutting the first couple paragraphs and starting somewhere around here. Floating screws are definitely more interesting.
I have to assume this is some kind of magical reference, but “Timekeep” doesn’t mean anything to the reader yet so they won’t care about this.
Back to the project which isn’t going to be interesting to the reader. So far the most interesting thing is the floating screws.
This is just more description as opposed to moving the plot forward.
I’m much more interested in the floating stuff than the project.
Who’s Lamai? We don’t know who the MC is yet.
Okay so just now we’re maybe understanding that time was stopped? This probably needs to be mentioned within the first couple sentences.
“The first thing I always noticed” isn’t really necessary. Since this is in first person, your MC wouldn’t be thinking to themselves “the first thing I always noticed about Lamai was…”. You can get straight into the heart of it. “Lamai had a beauty mark beneath her right eye - one that mirrored mine. As I gazed up into her eyes, my smirk melted from my lips.” The concern and worry bit doesn’t seem necessary to me, at least not here, the smirk melting off your MC’s face would probably be enough to show something is wrong, but you could also reinforce that in the next paragraph…
“What’s wrong, Lamai?” could work based on my suggestions in the previous section. You can significantly cut down the last sentence too: “I picked up my scattered tools, placing them back in their containers.”
What is Intelligence? Who is Lamai? Who is your MC?
This conversation feels mundane, like it’s just eating up space. If I had to guess, this meeting with “Intelligence” is probably more of the catalyst for your story, right? That event is what changes the direction of your MC’s story and jumpstarts the plot–not the conversation about it before it happens.
If Intelligence is so important, why hasn’t the MC jumped all over that? Why is Lamai asking questions about the project when she came in all worried-looking to tell your MC about the Intelligence thing?
My conclusion:
So in the first 600 words, we haven’t learned who your MC is. After this excerpt, we still don’t know her name. We really don’t know anything about her or your world except that there’s maybe a magical element. She spent time building a project which turns out to be a clock run by magic. I would say that describing the project creation is unnecessary.
The most interesting parts are the parts you’ve glossed over — the floating screws, the “Timekeep” (whatever that is), and maybe the Intelligence meeting, but most of your first 600 words are spent describing a project and it’s not until the very end of this excerpt that we learn it’s a clock—an object that most readers will probably consider mundane, even though there may be some sort of important connection in the end. Is the clock important in the grand scheme of the story? If it is, you may want to consider moving it out of the first page or so and spending more time establishing the hook so that the clock will get the remembrance it deserves. The reality is, readers will probably not retain much of anything about this first page or two and if the clock is really important, you want to establish its importance at a time when the reader is invested.
What is the plot of your story? What is the event that sets that plot in motion? What is the thing that should make the reader sit up straighter and say “oh hmm, now that’s interesting, I wonder why that happened?” The hook is so important in those first 600 words. You will have time to describe your characters and even their hobbies later once the reader is hooked and interested in learning more about them. At this point, your goal should be to catch their attention and make them want to keep turning the pages to find out more about the character.
Based on this, I suspect the plot jumpstart event is the Intelligence meeting, so I think you started your book maybe like a chapter too early. You might consider playing with the meeting (or whatever jumpstarting event is the catalyst) as the beginning of your story and work in the information about your MC being a clockmaker a little later. The magic is the most interesting thing to me personally, so I’d probably like to see a bit more about that in the excerpt too.
Your writing is good, no criticism there, we just need to get into the meat of the story a little faster (and maybe learn the MC’s name? 
) in the first 600.
4 Likes
Are we allowed to send more than one? Or do we submit one and then wait a month or two to send in another (dw Im aware you have a queue 
)
2 Likes
Yeah you could definitely send more than one! I’m still on hiatus technically right now (for reasons) but I’m hoping sometime next month to reopen it more regularly.
3 Likes
I’ve added myself to your waitlist for whenever you open! I’m in no hurry and I’m willing to wait for as long as it takes.
2 Likes
sure thing!
2 Likes