This was a request so I guess I've been doing something okay. So I guess this is a guide on how to do something okay, too. Basically, in this "story", I teach you a few Wattpad basics, along with a few things you should know while creating your story. --- Cover made by: @tuillaxoh

Marcie is an oddity in her village, the daughter of a widower with both village and outsider blood in her veins. She cares for her drunken father, and struggles to fit in with the rest of the village. Everything changes when she comes across two dragons, a mother and her new born, and unwittingly becomes the Tamer of the baby dragon when his mother dies. This new unlikely bond completely changes her life and opens doors to her future that she would have never thought possible whilst also causing her pain and heartache.

I am asked several times each day to read the stories written by young writers here on Wattpad. As there is no way that I could possibly read and offer quality feedback to all who ask, this book is my Advice to Young Writers, based on my own 20 years of teaching writing to junior high to university students, on my 20 years of working as a freelance editor, on my publishing of two nonfiction books, and on the recent Fan Fiction Writing Class I taught online. I hope that young authors will find some good advice that will help them on their writing journeys here. Best wishes to all writers!!! :)

The advice you will find here follows the Chicago Manual of Style which is widely used by American publishers. There are some variances in style from country to country (and even from American publisher to American publisher.) **It may be easier to search the Table of Contents, as there is no rhyme or reason right now to chapter order.**

Love is patient, love is kind but above all, love is hard. "I am here to see the Archangel." "Aren't we all?" Replied the guard after chuckling at the blatant naivety of the frail woman. "Name?" "I'm here to see the Archangel." She replied stubbornly still not looking up from her shoes that peeked out from the bottom of her cloak, revealing more of her toes through their large holes than the muddy, worn leather that formed the patchwork shoe itself. They were her last pair. Not that she had taken many substitutes with her when she had left. A hasty departure was never well planned.