Story Architect (Beta Reader)

I work with writers who already have something good on the page and want it to hold together as the story grows.

Beta Reading / Structural Support Especially for Romance, Fantasy, and YA, where structure does a lot of invisible work:

worldbuilding logic that unfolds naturally instead of info-dumping

magical or haunted settings with clear rules (and consequences)

romantic arcs that escalate alongside the plot, not ahead of it

YA pacing that balances banter, emotion, and momentum

Your voice, chemistry, and tone are already doing heavy lifting. My job is to tighten when pressure increases — so tension, magic, and romance land harder without changing the vibe.

Worldbuilding & Setting Logic Perfect for:

fantasy worlds that feel lived-in, not overexplained

haunted or uncanny settings where the rules stay consistent

contemporary worlds where the supernatural leaks in slowly

stories where readers should feel unease before they understand it

Clear rules make emotional beats hit deeper, especially in romance and YA.

Short-Form Promo & Momentum Support For serialized stories (Tumblr-friendly, reader-forward):

BookTok-style trailers or teaser sequences

character-voice-driven snippets and banter

romantic tension, looming magic, or “calm before the cursed” energy

content designed to build anticipation between updates

Serialized Romance, Fantasy, and YA stories thrive when readers know something is coming, even if they don’t know what.

I don’t rewrite your story. I don’t flatten your voice. I make sure the structure can support the feelings, the magic, and the payoff.

If your WIP:

starts strong but wobbles in the middle

has great chemistry but unclear stakes

or feels almost right, but not solid yet

Submissions and inquiries are open.

Hello. I’m the Story Architect.

Drafting is hard.

You start with a solid idea, a strong opening chapter, maybe even characters you love… and somewhere around Chapter 3, the whole thing starts to wobble.

That’s where I come in.

I’m a beta reader focused on structure — the load-bearing walls of your story:

plot logic

pacing

conflict escalation

character motivation

endings that don’t feel rushed or hollow

I don’t just read your draft. I stress-test it.

If something doesn’t make sense, I’ll find the crack. If a subplot is weakening the foundation, I’ll flag it. If your story works? I’ll tell you why, so you can do it again on purpose.

What I Do Here

On this blog, you’ll find:

Queue feedback on submitted excerpts

Answers to plot-hole panic

Craft breakdowns for Romance, Fantasy, Mystery & YA

Gentle but honest talks about why drafts fall apart (and how to fix them)

No roasting. No vibes-only praise. Just clear, actionable notes.

Want Feedback?

Submissions are open (check the guidelines)

Ask box is open for screaming and ranting

I offer a free 500-word sample edit via DM

Your story isn’t broken. It just needs a stronger foundation.

If you’re sitting on a draft that almost works or a scene that keeps collapsing under its own weight, submissions are open.

You can send an excerpt, a question, or just point at the crack and say, “This. This is the problem.”

I’ll help you figure out what’s structural... and what’s just clutter.

Bring your story to the 'Architect of Epics' drafting table.

Welcome to the drafting table.

1: I SHOULD’VE STAYED IN THE BATHTUB

Rayne Atlas did not know the reason he agreed to this trip.

It was not because his friends were a convincing bunch; they were a bunch of idiots who would try to convince a chicken that it was a duck and come back convinced they were flamingos, set on a mission for world domination. 

It couldn’t have been for the place because no one would want to go to Transylvania in the middle of summer to help fix up his friend’s great-great aunt’s house. 

‘It was because of the weather,’ Rayne tried to reason with himself. He was conventionally wise–or so they say, so he couldn’t have signed himself up for a summer of pure work if there wasn’t an upside to it.

Brooklyn got crazy hot in the summer, like the universe just decided ‘Screw it’, and turned up the heat in the boiler. And as much as Rayne would love to spend his summer marinating in the bathtub, Transylvania must have sounded more appealing to his heat-muddled brain when his friends pitched their idea.

“I have an idea,” Kazuya announced, slamming open the bathroom door like the concept of knocking was beneath him, after he’d barged into Rayne’s house, like he wasn’t in the middle of taking a bath. 

“And it couldn’t wait five minutes?” Rayne screeched, trying to submerge his body deeper into the water-filled bathtub. “Good ideas don’t wait, Ray-ray.” Kazuya tutted, crouching next to the tub like they were about to plot a heist.

Rayne reached for the nearest object, his half-empty shampoo bottle, and threw it at Kazuya. The bottle bounced off his friend’s shoulder with a dull thud, sending a few droplets flying. 

Kazuya, ever unbothered, caught the bottle mid-bounce and set it gently on the sink. Rayne closed his eyes and took a long breath through his nose. “This better not involve farming. Or chickens. Or farming and chickens.”

Kazuya’s grin only widened. “Better. You, me, Elena, and Mal. Transylvania. A crumbling old house and enough creepy vibes to shoot an indie horror film. All expenses paid.” 

Rayne peeked through one eye. “You lost me at ‘horror film’, but ‘all expenses paid’ caught me. Elaborate.”

“Some great-great aunt of mine died recently,” Kazuya started. “Her last words were to take care of this mansion she bought in the middle of god-knows-where and left it to simmer in the chill of Transylvania for a few decades.” Kazuya flicked some water onto Rayne’s face. 

“So you want us to go fix a potentially haunted mansion?”

“Yes!” Kazuya’s eyes sparkled with a suspicious amount of excitement.

“No.” Rayne deadpanned, wiping the water off his face.

“Come on, Ray-ray. Think about it,” Kazuya tried to convince, donning his best version of puppy eyes. “No Brooklyn heat waves. No angry mothers trying to kill you for not doing the laundry. Just chill weather and an even chiller job.” Kazuya leaned in closer, whispering. 

Rayne stared at him. Then sighed.

“I swear to god, if I get possessed this summer, I’m haunting you first.”

Kazuya beamed. “So that’s a yes?”

“It’s a maybe.” Rayne agreed, hesitance evident in his voice. 

“He said yes!” Kazuya clapped his hands and stood up triumphantly. “Time to go on a road trip to a haunted house!” He said brightly. 

“Don’t call it that,” Rayne muttered, sinking back into the water. 

“And shut the door on your way out.”

Kazuya didn’t. Of course.

And that was how Rayne Atlas found himself going through customs at an airport two weeks later, holding a backpack, a suitcase, and a growing sense of dread.

“Sometimes–” A voice huffed, body slamming down onto the wooden bench next to Rayne. “–I wish I were an octopus. So I could slap eight people at once.” 

Rayne snorted. “Who was it this time?” He asks, flinching when the wind blows his jet-black hair right into his face. 

Elena Hale, a long-time friend, and a personal hater of all Rayne’s life choices, narrowed her icy-blue eyes, scoffing. “Rachel,” She hisses like the name was supposed to mean something.

It didn’t.

A beat of silence passes between them. Rayne rolls his eyes when he realizes Elena isn’t going to elaborate. “Are you going to tell me who Rachel is?” Rayne asks, tired gray eyes looking at the road ahead. 

The streets weren’t crowded, and neither was the airport. People weren’t usually looking to visit the horror capital mid-summer.

A shadow blocks the barely visible sun, black hair fluttering around in the Transylvania breeze. “Rachel was the lady sitting next to Eli on the flight.” A voice says, breathy, amused. 

Mallory Lorien hands Rayne a bottle of water, eyes gleaming in mischief as he almost drops it, surprised by the nail-biting chill that runs up his arm. “Eli decided she hates the woman.”

“Screw you.” Rayne hisses, frowning, before taking a huge gulp of the ice-cold water, shuddering. Whatever it took to quench his hour-long thirst because Kazuya was taking way too long to rent a car, that useless thing.

“With valid reason!” Elena defends, whipping her head to face Rayne, blonde hair falling out of her messy bun. “Rachel,” She spits out with venom. 

“Is a self-righteous piece of–ugh! She sat in the window seat, you know, and blindfolded herself because apparently, she was scared of heights, but when I offered to switch seats with her out of the kindness of my heart–”

“There is no kindness in your heart.” Mallory interrupted.

Elena glared at her. Mallory made a zipping motion with her hands. “–out of the kindness of my heart,” Elena repeated, insistence coloring her voice. “She started lecturing me on the importance of booking your flight seats and not bothering other people like her to exchange seats because everyone should sit in the seats they paid for!”

Rayne tried his best to stifle the laughter threatening to burst out of him, but he could swear Mallory noticed. 

“I don’t get it, I mean, all the seats are the same price!” Elena huffed, pulling the branded denim jacket closer to her body. Mallory nodded along to Elena’s whining, somewhat like she was indulging a child’s tantrum.

“No sign of Kazuya?” Mallory whispered, eyes scouring the entrance to the airport for any indication of an unmannered idiot with dark brown hair, possibly sticking his head out a window and driving with one hand. 

“No.” Rayne ran a hand through his hair, leaning back further on the bench, and shutting his eyes. “At this point, we might as well lay a tent here and camp.”

Mallory laughs, all sudden and unrestrained, like it had burst out of her. 

“Right, Kazuya,” Elena snapped her fingers in realization. “What’s the point of being rich if he can’t even travel business class?” Mallory rolled her eyes, sharing a glance with Rayne.

“Just because you have money doesn’t mean you have to use it,” Mallory states, eyes narrowing onto Elena in more amusement than annoyance.

“I mean, look at Rayne.” The black-haired woman points, making the said boy shrug. “He’d be dressing like he’s homeless if Kazuya wasn’t helping him shop.” Mallory articulated. 

Rayne opened one eye, peeking and nodding his head in agreement. 

Elena pouted, mirroring Rayne’s position, more hair falling out of her bun and rendering it practically useless. Not that it was particularly useful in the first place, her wavy blonde hair falling only to her shoulder.

“You’re just mad Rachel stole your window seat.” Rayne chided.

“I hope Rachel forgets her passport in her hotel and misses her flight back.”

Mallory looks Elena right in the eye, face emotionless and deadpanned, “Poor Rachel.” 

Rayne had to pretend to yawn to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst out of him. Elena glared at Mallory, pulling the hair clip out of her hair to pull it back into a fashionable half-ponytail.

“Who's Rachel?” A voice piped up, startling Rayne’s last two living brain cells out of him.

“Holy shit!” Mallory screeched, jumping a whole meter back in fear, calm demeanor be damned. Elena was clinging to Rayne, horror evident on her face as she stared at the newcomer, first in shock, and then in annoyance. 

Rayne, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch, except for flinching when Elena’s manicured nails pierced crescent-shaped dents into his arm.

“Kazuya!” Elena chastised, lips pulling into a pout. 

“We need to put a bell on you,” Mallory muttered under her breath, gasping as Kazuya elbowed her jokingly. “I called your names like, twice.” Kazuya defended, a smile never leaving his face. 

“It’s not my fault you were too invested in Rachel–wait, who’s Rachel?” He asks again, untangling a strand of his hair from where it was intertwined with his earring.

“Rachel,” Rayne starts, standing up and abandoning his very comfortable position on the bench. “Will be the first one to throw dirt on your coffin if you don’t get your ass to the car right now.” 

Rayne’s almost-translucent grey eyes glare into Kazuya’s brown ones, watching as the almost six-foot man wilts away from him.

“Yes, sir!” Kazuya says, words hurried as the syllables all blur together.

Mallory trails behind Kazuya to help him load the luggage into the car he had rented out for the next two or more weeks, as Rayne rolls the suitcases over. 

“What took you so long?” Rayne muttered to his friend once the girls got comfortable in the backseat. 

“Oh.” Kazuya let out, sheepishly, like he hadn’t expected the question. “My sugar levels were running quite low, so I had to suspend my proceedings to replenish them by consuming some content with high sugar. To, you know, prevent hypoglycemia.” Kazuya states.

Rayne blinks. Once. Twice.

“...You were hungry, so you stopped for donuts.” 

“Yeah, I stopped for donuts,” Kazuya confirms. 

Elena smacks him in the head.

This opening does something many first chapters struggle with:

It’s readable immediately.

The voice is clear. The characters feel distinct. The banter flows without exposition dumps.

From a craft perspective, that’s a real strength.

Structurally, though, the chapter is leaning very hard on that strength.

What’s Working

Strong narrative voice from the first line

Clear protagonist attitude and worldview

Dialogue that establishes group dynamics quickly

A setting that feels grounded before the fantasy escalates

The chapter understands that readers stay for people before plot.

That instinct is solid.

The Structural Strain

The chapter spends most of its runtime establishing comfort and rhythm.

We get:

extended banter

multiple character introductions

situational humor

low-stakes interpersonal conflict

What we don’t get yet is pressure.

In architectural terms: the foundation is wide and pleasant — but the upward pull hasn’t started.

What I’d Adjust (Without Changing the Vibe)

This doesn’t require cutting the banter or darkening the tone.

It’s about load distribution.

1. Introduce narrative pressure earlier The haunted house trip is framed as an inconvenience, not a looming problem.

A hint that something is off — even briefly — would give the scene direction without ruining the humor.

2. Let one scene do less The bathtub scene, the pitch, and the airport sequence all work — but together they extend the “setup” phase.

Structurally, one of these could carry more forward motion while the others tighten.

3. Anchor the chapter to a question By the end of Chapter 1, readers should be wondering something specific.

Not “what happens next?” But “what is Rayne walking into that he doesn’t understand yet?”

What I Would Not Change

This matters just as much.

The banter-driven voice

The group dynamic

Rayne’s internal narration

The light, comedic tone

Those are load-bearing choices.

The issue isn’t indulgence, it’s timing.

Why This Is Common

Writers with strong character voices often let voice do all the work early on.

It works — until the story needs momentum.

Structure doesn’t replace voice. It gives voice somewhere to go.

If your first chapter:

reads smoothly but feels long

relies on banter to carry momentum

introduces everyone before introducing pressure

You don’t need to rewrite it.

You need to give the structure something to lean toward.

Submissions are open for excerpts, questions, and “this works but I don’t know why” drafts.

In a tiny town called Mossfield, where everyone knows everyone, there is a family-owned coffee shop called Our Place that many of the locals believe to be magical. The only magical thing about it, though, is the amazing and unique coffee blend served there simply called The House Blend.

It is at this non-magical coffee shop that: an elderly couple have their 2,704th coffee date as they reminisce about a lifetime of love and hardship, a middle-aged woman gives love another chance, a young man takes his baby daughter out for her first hot cocoa of the winter season, a group of teenage friends solidify friendships that will last a lifetime, a young girl makes a tough decision, the head baker next door visits the cute barista but is too shy to tell her he makes the blueberry banana muffins extra early just for her, and many other sweet moments in the lives of those who walk through the door.

so come one in, have a cup of coffee, and enjoy your time at Our Place.

Volunteer Case Study: A Cozy Opening That Carries Too Much Weight

(YA / Cozy Contemporary / Short Story Collection — Intro Post)

Openings are the blueprints of a masterpiece in progress. The plans and outlines of a plot's general direction.

This opening does a lot right.

It’s gentle. It’s inviting. It clearly knows the emotional tone it wants to set.

Readers aren’t confused. They’re comfortable.

And that’s exactly where the structural issue lives.

The Symptom

Clear setting (small town, familiar rhythms)

Strong tone (warm, nostalgic, cozy)

Immediate emotional buy-in

A promise of many interconnected stories

On the surface, this is a successful intro.

But under stress, the foundation starts to spread.

The Structural Problem

This is an intro to a larger plot development, yet it tries to hold the entire collection at once.

By the end of the post, we already know:

The central location

The emotional promise

The kinds of stories we’ll get

The outcomes (love, connection, sweetness)

There’s nothing wrong here, but structurally, the intro resolves the emotional tension before the stories begin.

In architectural terms: The lobby is beautiful, but it contains the whole building.

The Fix (Craft Breakdown)

Instead of adding plot or conflict, the fix is about redistributing emotional load.

1. Narrow the promise

Rather than listing many lives and moments, the intro could:

Focus on one representative moment

Let the others remain implied, leaving a sense of anticipation borne of curiosity

Curiosity survives longer when not everything is named.

2. Introduce a question, not a conclusion

The line “many other sweet moments” tells us what the answer will be.

Structurally stronger would be:

A hint of uncertainty

A suggestion that not every moment ends cleanly

Cozy stories still need unanswered questions.

3. Let the door open, not close

The final invitation (“come on in…”) is warm, but it wraps the intro too neatly.

Endings that feel like beginnings keep readers moving forward.

What I Wouldn’t Change

This matters. A lot!

The tone

The setting

The premise of a magical-not-magical coffee shop

The gentle, human focus and web of relationships

Those are the story’s load-bearing walls.

The issue isn’t what’s here; it’s about how it is doing too much work too early.

Why This Matters

Intros don’t need to:

Explain everything

Preview everything

Promise resolution

They need to support the weight of what comes next.

Even cozy stories benefit from restraint.

If your opening:

Is well-loved but hard to follow up

Feels like it says everything too soon

Makes the rest of the draft feel smaller instead of bigger

You don’t need to rewrite it.

You need to rebalance it.

Submissions are open for excerpts, questions, and problem drafts.

Let’s make sure your foundation leaves room to build.

— Story Architect

Because it was trained on pirated work—including freely accessible online writing (like fanfic, academic texts)—ChatGPT picked up patterns and quirks native to human writing.

Including (sigh) the em dash.

There are other victims here (RIP tapestry and delve 🫠), but the appropriation of the em dash—a punctuation mark beloved by writers everywhere—feels especially personal.

A kind of low-grade panic is ensuing. Writers who once memed their own em dash overuse—the greatest punctuation mark ever to grace the control-freak’s lexicon, frankly—are suddenly backing away to avoid accusations.

No. More. We have centuries of dash-abusing writers behind us. We will not sit quietly while AI repurposes our beloved stilted aside—or the just-one-more clarification the sentence demands—or the dramatic pause your comma could never—etc.

You don’t write like AI—AI writes like you.

Defend the em dash.

(Feel free to download/share/stick it where it matters!)

Hello. I’m the Story Architect.

Drafting is hard.

You start with a solid idea, a strong opening chapter, maybe even characters you love… and somewhere around Chapter 3, the whole thing starts to wobble.

That’s where I come in.

I’m a beta reader focused on structure — the load-bearing walls of your story:

plot logic

pacing

conflict escalation

character motivation

endings that don’t feel rushed or hollow

I don’t just read your draft. I stress-test it.

If something doesn’t make sense, I’ll find the crack. If a subplot is weakening the foundation, I’ll flag it. If your story works? I’ll tell you why, so you can do it again on purpose.

What I Do Here

On this blog, you’ll find:

Queue feedback on submitted excerpts

Answers to plot-hole panic

Craft breakdowns for Romance, Fantasy, Mystery & YA

Gentle but honest talks about why drafts fall apart (and how to fix them)

No roasting. No vibes-only praise. Just clear, actionable notes.

Want Feedback?

Submissions are open (check the guidelines)

Ask box is open for screaming and ranting

I offer a free 500-word sample edit via DM

Your story isn’t broken. It just needs a stronger foundation.

Welcome to the drafting table.

— Story Architect

You can send an excerpt, a question, or just point at the crack and say, “This. This is the problem.”

I’ll help you figure out what’s structural... and what’s just clutter.

Bring your story to the 'Architect of Epics' drafting table.