Grammar, after free writing

Hi all Happy Wednesday! So continuing in our scene editing process (well mine take what you like and leave what you don’t) what’s next?

Truthfully this is really a couple different steps. Usually for me I go through periods of avid writing long scenes and multiple scenes then I get stuck so I go back to work on what I was working on to try and get the unstuck. I usually go back to the oldest thing I’ve written because it’s less fresh and I’m less likely to want to immediately scrap it (usually with regret later) or I’m less in love with it and the visual I have in my head of what the words are supposed to be doing on paper.

This is where I grammar edit. Now, I’m a terrible self-editor when it comes to grammar. Mostly because it brings back flashes of English teachers I despised and their red pens. So I use Grammarly, to edit grammar at least the first time. Not everything has to be fixed but the mistakes can’t over power the story. But fixing the glaring mistakes is also a great way for me to re-familiarize myself with the scene.

So here is my Grammarly edited version of the scene from last week:

She sat on the cot, her tight tank top showing her curves; the terrible fluorescent lighting exaggerated her muscles. From the security camera above, one could catch the slightest glimpse of black lace with each rise and fall of her chest. While the average man might have enjoyed the view, the current viewers wouldn’t have dared allow the thought to cross their minds. She had been their general once, and the price for any who dared would have been too high. Moreover, she had a reputation for not smiling. Even now, her face remained stony. She showed no emotion. Besides the rise and fall of her chest, she hadn’t moved, her eyes staring ahead at the empty wall.

No one really knew why she was being held. It had been several years since she had led them out of the war against the Noctifer. Then, just as the war had ended, it was announced she had retired. Then, a week ago, a small guard had returned with her in chains, depositing her in the cell.

Suddenly the door banged open with the head consul of Defense, Castor Tanner, and the head of state, Rohit Horvat. Tanner slammed a file on the bed beside her, and Horvat closed the door.

“Why the hell are the Ataraxia asking us to release you into their custody?” demanded Tanner, bending over so he was at eye level with her. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched.

“Tanner, remember what we discussed,” warned Horvat leaning back against the door casually.

“General, I gave you an order,” commanded Tanner, his face purpling.

“I am no longer a General in your army, sir,” came the steady response.

“General Parker, I think you misunderstand us. We simply wish to understand how you come to have some prior relationship with the Ataraxia, a notoriously private and almost mythical star system,” Tanner soothed from his position on the wall.

“I have no information for you, sir.”

“Like hell, you don’t,” screamed Tanner, “someone with your capabilities and ambition just wasting time with a farm on some outer moon.”

“Tanner,” the soft warning came again, “even if you don’t tell us now, we have instructions to bring you to the system’s central planet, home to the Queen of Ataraxia. In return, they are willing to open trade agreements. We had hoped you would be able to provide some information but have it as you will. We will be leaving within a couple hours,” Horvat shrugged his shoulders, opening the door and holding it open.

“Just so you know, the Queen herself specifically requested your presence,” whispered Tanner in her ear before slugging her on the side of the head. She gripped the cot harder but kept her balance. Tanner stalked out, and Horvat shut the door behind them.