The Woe of Winter Skylight
The Woe of Winter Skylight
by Alexander
"No Twilight, it's not going to work," Winter said as he sat behind the low table. He was holding his head in his hooves as he propped his forelegs on the edge. He shook his head and sighed again. "No Twilight, it's just not gonna work. I'm not going to write it."
"Why not?" Twilight asked desperately as she sat across from her friend. "Why not? I think it's a good idea for a story."
"What's the point of writing something if hardly anypony reads it?" Winter asked as he drooped his head lower, his long grey mane going where ever it wanted.
"What do you mean if 'hardly anypony reads it'?"
"You know what I mean. No pony enjoys what I write. Nopony cares about what I write. Nopony likes them and even if they do, they always compare it to his and his are the most popular in all of Equestria. No matter how hard I write or how long or how hard I push myself to write to the best of what I can, nopony will ever give a damn about it. Why write anymore if nopony cares?" Winter asked, his voice rising and cracking as he bitterly stared at the table.
"Winter, that's not true . . . "
"Of course it's true!" he cried, a tear dropping onto the table. "You know what the papers have said about my stories! I know you have!"
"Of course I've read their reviews and they're all really mean."
"You don't say. I'll write story after story after story, chapter after chapter after chapter, and nopony gives a damn. If it isn't his then it isn't worth anything."
"Your stories mean a lot, Winter please, be sensible."
"How am I not being sensible?" Winter asked, raising his head to reveal the tears that pooled in his tired eyes. "Everything I say is true and you know it. Nopony gives a damn and nopony cares. I don't know why I even still write seeing as how everypony thinks that everything I write is dreadful."
"Winter, no," Twilight softly said, a faint presence of sadness in her voice. "No, Winter, don't say those things."
"And why not? Why not say them if they're the truth?"
"Because they're not the truth, WInter," Twilight said, a tear of her own pooling in her eyes. "Because they're not true. A lot of ponies like what you write."
"Yeah, right."
"No it's true," Twilight insisted as she reached across the table and placed her hooves in Winter's. "I've read his and they're really well written - Oh no, Winter. Please don't do that -" Winter had swiped away her hooves and had broken down into tears. He dropped his head into his hooves again and cried. Twilight couldn't help but cry a little either. "Oh no Winter, please don't do that. Please, let me finish."
"No," Winter said, his voice cracking through the tears as he sobbed. "I've heard all I need to hear. Even you think his stories are better than mine."
"Please let me finish what I was saying," Twilight said, her voice also cracking as she tried to calm the despairing stallion in front of her.
"No. My stories are nothing and nopony cares at all," he sobbed into his hooves. "I have no talent as a writer at all. All I write are boring lines that have no depth and that are void of anything interesting. Just say it. I am a truly miserable writer." Winter's sobs turned into retching heaves as he felt all confidence wash away. His spirit was broken and his tears fell to the table.
"Winter! That's enough!" Twilight cried as she stood, pounding her front hooves on the table. "You are a magnificent writer and if you would've let me finish what I was saying, you would've heard that I think your stories are better than his."
Winter raised his head, tears still pouring across his cheeks onto the table. He shook his head. "Please don't pity me, Twilight."
"But I'm not pitying you! I'm telling you the truth."
"Twilight . . . please . . . this tired heart of mine can't take much more of it."
"No please, WInter, let me say what I have to say and then you can believe whatever you want to believe."
Winter silenced his cries with a wave of his hoof. "Fine. Go ahead."
"Thank you," Twilight said as she walked over to a bright portion of the bookshelf by the window. She returned carrying a large mound of papers and books. "Look here, Winter."
Winter looked through the papers and sifted through their pages. "These are all my stories." He looked up to see Twilight with the largest grin he had ever seen on her.
"Don't you see?"
"I see that you have every single one of my stories that I've published . . ."
"Yes I do and do you know why?"
"I have no idea why."
"It's because I love your stories."
"But you're just one pony," Winter said, shaking his head, his long mane flopping in front of his eyes. He moved it back with a movement of his hoof. "What good is writing if only one pony really only loves what you write? I've tried writing for only myself and for the very few and far between that enjoy my stories, but it's still nice to know that your stories are appreciated. I've tried it and I can't do it anymore. I need to know that my stories are enjoyed and that I'm not just wasting my time on something I have no talent for. If nopony likes what I write and I only write just for the hell of writing, then I have no purpose. I have no purpose."
"But you do have purpose, Winter," Twilight said as she took back the papers and books with a smile.
"And what would that purpose be?"
"Writing to make me happy," Twilight simply said as she pulled the stories into a hug.
"Writing to make you happy?"
"Yes. I really love your stories and if you would have listened earlier, your stories are so much better than his. His stories are all these fancy words and have all this fancy grammar, but your stories are so much more fun and interesting to read. When I read his, I get no joy from it; they're just words on a page. But when I read yours, I just can't help but smile at them."
"What are you saying?" Winter asked as he hurriedly wiped away another tear. "I just said I've already tried writing for myself and it's gotten depressing not having anypony to congratulate me on what I've slaved over. I'm not strong enough to do that."
"Then just write for me," Twilight softly said. "Then just write only for me and I'll love them."
"You'll love them? Why?"
"Because I love the way you write. Remember? I just told you that your stories make me really happy on the inside whenever I read them."
Winter looked up into Twilight's sparkling eyes and sighed. He felt his cheeks grow hot for a moment before shyly looking down to the table and slowly nodding.
"Write for me," Twilight said. "Even if I am the only pony who loves them, then so what? Let me love them and ignore what anypony else says about them."
"But I can't just ignore them," Winter said as he looked back up from the table. "I can't just ignore the things they say. I can't just ignore it. I'm not good enough to."
Twilight sighed and walked around the table. She placed her lips on Winter's cheeks and kissed. Winter felt his cheeks grow hot again. "Just write for me."
"I'm not sure I can."
"Yes you can. You're the best writer I know and I love reading what you write. It's not all about what everypony else thinks, what matters is that I love them. That should be good enough reason," she said and she gave his cheek another kiss.
Winter blushed wildly again and looked down at the table. "Twilight . . . "
"Hmm?"
"About that story idea . . . "
"Yes?"
"I'll start work on it tonight."
