How To Write a Story No One Wants To Read

by uhhh

Rating: everyone
Tags: Alternate Universe, Sad, Slice of Life
Length: 7755

Autumn (A.K.) Yearling struggles to find success when she publishes her first book, Daring Do and The Sapphire Stone.

Autumn Yearling is a young and brilliant writer dealing with crippling confidence issues and a sickeningly desperate need for success. After releasing a few hundred copies of her first book, Daring Do and The Sapphire Stone, nopony seemed to give it attention. Her hard work, love and labor all seemed to amount to nothing when, by chance, a young librarian with a talent for magic took interest.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-05-09 06:20:03 UTC

One Easy Step

Leaning back in a swivel chair, Autumn had nothing else to stare at but a giant, spacious library with almost nopony in it. Shelves upon shelves towered well into the ceiling as they sat in orderly rows like skyscrapers. Behind her, a giant, yet expertly crafted window ate up the entire wall, and worked itself all the way up to the ceiling and back down the opposing side of the main library. At any point in the day, ponies could see the sun, and by night, the moon graced the center’s presence with a brilliant glow. The sun was low in the sky and on its way to the horizon.

Autumn looked down at her lonely fold-up table, crowded with notes, bowls of candy, three pies, pens strewn about and several empty cups. Most prominently, two stacks of books sat next to each other, all bearing the same binding and graphic cover. A sole copy sat on a wire display case, broadcasting itself to the desolate library. To see a book signing stand at the Canterlot Royal Library wasn’t uncommon, but in the middle of an ancient chamber surrounded by century old books, columns that seemed to reach into the heavens and aging architecture that spoke of artistic movements long past, the sight of a cheap fold-out table littered with streamlined genre fiction looked out of place and strangely unwanted.

And that may have spoken volumes about her situation. During the past five hours, including standing up, going to the bathroom, eating and pacing to relieve stress, she may have seen all of ten ponies. Ones that were busy and hadn’t come over to the stand.

Autumn placed her chin atop her hooves, resting wistfully on the table. She felt the oncoming pressure of tears pushing behind her eyeballs, but she fought back the urge. This was her very first debut, after all. Why in the world would she want somepony to see her upset or crying? She knew she had to be professional.

Or maybe not, she thought. Nopony is around to care that I’m professional or poised, anyway. Autumn stood on a thin line between exploding into sorrow and staying just above devastated to appear composed. She refused to do the former and barely accomplished the latter.

Autumn looked down at her concave clock. A shrunken mare with a curly, maroon mane, a cream colored coat and wayfer glasses stared back. She looked like an English teacher fresh out of college. Her expression was more sour and half-lidded than despaired, but that was the best she could do. She’d have to carry that face until she got somewhere safe enough to cry it all out.

She looked back out into the giant area before her, as if they thought she’d have so many fans coming they’d need the extra space. On the other side of the big hub, Autumn noticed a lavender unicorn looking through a bookcase, stretched up on her hindlegs as she attempted searching through tomes. This wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary had the writer not noticed the unicorn occasionally throwing glances her way for the past fifteen minutes. The awkwardness finally came to a head when she tore herself away from the bookcases and trotted into the western hub.

Both mares exchanged eye-contact, and they reflexively waved. The walking mare closed enough distance to speak.

“Hello, there!” She said, smiling. “Ooh, this looks very interesting!”

Autumn’s heart warmed. “Oh, yeah, heh… I guess…”

A big banner sat across the front of the table: Action/Adventure Writer AUTUMN YEARLING Book Signing: Daring Do and The Sapphire Stone. The unicorn took her time in reading it over as she finally approached the table.

“You guess? I’d say this is definitely interesting!” She analyzed one book sitting on the display case. “It looks to promise a lot of action, for sure.”

“Well… it’s nice to hear that,” she said softly, struggling to articulate herself. “There is a lot to see in this story.” Yeah, so descriptive.

“I bet! Hmm…” Autumn’s first fan took more time in thinking about the book’s cover. Her hoof grazed her chin, though it was more of a social gesture. “This reminds me a lot of an archeologist about eighty years ago. Highlander, wasn’t it?”

The cream mare almost shot out of her chair. “You know about him?”

“He spent much of his life traveling the world and exploring dangerous places. He had a masculine approach to his work, and was quite the womanizer. Highlander did everything with charisma.”

“Wow… We really must love the same stuff then, don’t we?” Both mares giggled.

“Sounds like it! And you can call me Twilight Sparkle!” She placed a hoof to her chest. “I’ve studied here under Princess Celestia’s gifted unicorn program my entire life. In fact, I’m her personal protégé, but I normally don’t tell a lot of ponies. I know this place like my own home.”

“That’s amazing!” It was enough to make Autumn get out of her chair. “I guess it must’ve been worth the wait for me to meet somepony so intelligent and interesting. Though I’m not sure I can say the same thing about all the time I put into writing this.”

Twilight was already aware Autumn was upset, but she didn’t want to make it seem like she was pitying her. “How come?”

“You’re the only person who’s shown up all day,” she frowned.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I could’ve done something to help.”

“No, it’s fine. This is the first novel I’ve ever published, and I was kind of hoping its debut would be a little better.” She walked around to the front of the table, making the conversation more personal. “This is actually just a test run publication. Only five-hundred or so copies were produced. They just want to see how it’ll perform locally before they get serious and send it out everywhere.”

“I suppose we’re not always successful at first,” Twilight said off-handedly. “The important thing is just enjoying what you do and not worrying too much.”

“That’s true. Still, writing this book has been my biggest creative endeavor yet; I normally just publish short stories to a magazine called Big Fish.”

“A-ha!” Twilight beamed. “I knew I recognized your name! I read Big Fish, too! I’ve read your stuff before,” she smiled.

“Really?”

“Of course! And you also work alongside Kind Sight and a bunch of others!”

Wow, she knows me pretty well!

“Hmm, what was that one?” The unicorn thought. “Had to do with the mayor replacing the school teacher or something? She was cursed and it made everypony think she was the school teacher who had died?”

“Great Minds!” Autumn exclaimed more than she corrected.

“Yeah, that one! You know, it actually made me cry when I first read it! I think you’ve always had such a realistic grip on writing characters. It’s like…” Twilight dug deeper into her mind, finding something meaningful to say. “It’s like you know how to write sad things, but making them happy and hopeful at the same time without being gushy. I think I wrote something like that in the review I submitted.”

A review. She had to mentally repeat that to herself. “Wow…” Autumn teared up. It wouldn’t have happened so easily had she not been so close to crying already. “Thank you!” The struggling author came up to Twilight and hugged her graciously around the withers. All semblances of professionalism vanished. “That’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“Uhh…” Twilight instinctively returned the gesture, not sure what to feel. “I’m… Glad I helped?”

The curly-maned mare pulled out of the hug with much less confidence. “I’m sorry. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“No worries,” Twilight smiled. “Since you want to start selling your books, how about I be your first buyer?”

“Absolutely! But first thing’s first…” –She finished writing her name on the first page of one of her books, addressing it to her first fan- “You’re not just a customer, Twilight. I couldn’t think of you that way, especially after being so supportive. That’s why I’d like to give this one to you for free.”

Twilight gasped. “No, no! I insist on paying!”

“It’s okay. I still think it would mean more to me if I gave out my first copy. It would be a nice story for us both to tell someday.”

“It’s not that, though,” Twilight argued. “I’m here to support you, and I want to do it all the way. If you want a real story to tell, you can tell them your first fan turned down a free copy because they cared enough to purchase it by choice!”

“I-“ Autumn lost what she was about to say. “I… I, I guess, Twilight. That’s very thoughtful of you.” Butterflies happily flew in her stomach.

“I just want to play my part in your success, that’s all,” she said, digging out the proper amount of bits and putting them on the table.

“The least I can do is treat you to something.” She humbly swept the bits into a small bag. “Wanna hang out later?”

The studious unicorn shook her head. “No, that’s okay. ‘Hanging out’ isn’t really my thing.”

Did she just say that? “Seriously? Are you sure?”

“Positive! I’m more about reading and studying. No offense meant towards you.”

“Of course, but…” She looked away, rubbing her left arm. “I mean, it’ll be fun, y’know? I think you’d get along really well with my other friend. She’s in the Big Fish book club with me, too. We can all be big nerds together, you know?”

“I appreciate the offer, but that sort of thing just isn’t for me. Sorry.”

“Well…” Autumn made one last attempt. She may have built up a small fan base (that suspiciously forgot about her book signing), but they were still all either writers or avid readers of the magazine. Twilight was different: she was Autumn’s first up-front, unabashed, true fan, straight out of the blue and completely honest. She may have been a reader of her literary stuff before, but this was considerably different. If the young author ever had a moral code of any type, paying the utmost respect to a fan would’ve been right at the top. “At the very, very least, I can, uh… Ugh…” Don’t screw this up. What would this mare want that she’d actually enjoy or appreciate?

“If you really would like to do something for me, I have a suggestion.”

Ah, relief. “Alright, then. Fire away!”

“Since this is something we both enjoy doing, why not come back over tomorrow after I finish the book and give you some feedback?”

Her proposition, while exciting to Autumn, raised some confusion and a little worry. “But Twilight, that… Daring Do and The Sapphire Stone is a two-hundred-and-twenty-thousand word story!”

“Heh…” A sardonic smile grew.

“Well, it’s not only that,” she replied to her indirect arrogance. “I don’t even want you to read it that fast. How are you going to enjoy it? And how will you take the time to even reflect back on it?”

“Easy! As soon as you leave, I’m gonna put everything else off and read it for the rest of the day. Then when I wake up tomorrow morning, I’ll read what I didn’t get finished. I’m quite the bookworm myself, Autumn.”

The thrill of seeing somepony express so much joy and elation over her work was enough to make the author of Daring Do nod at Twilight’s every idea. But with clear-minded concern, she’d make sure her new unicorn friend wouldn’t frustrate herself on her behalf.

“How about this: instead of reading the whole entire book, why don’t you just read a couple of chapters and leave it off at that? Don’t turn it into a race against time. Just go at a comfortable pace.”

Twilight laughed. “If I read at a comfortable pace, I’d probably have it finished anyway!”

Now she was getting annoying. “Can I just request that you don’t do that? Please?”

The lavender mare’s face changed, momentarily breaking eye contact. “I’m sorry, Autumn. Of course I’ll just read a few chapters. I just got kind of carried away. I can be really full of myself, sometimes.”

“No problem. Just as long as somepony is reading my junk, that’s all that matters.”

Twilight scrunched up her face. “You seem to worry about that a lot.”

“Yeah…” She said, her voice trailing out.

“And by the looks of things, what you wrote here is definitely not junk! You created something that’s worth people’s time and emotional investment, so don’t you think that’s a great enough feat by itself? I don’t think you should worry so much about being successful, Autumn. Just enjoy what you love doing!”

She smiled. “I appreciate it, Twilight. I’ve appreciated everything you’ve done today. You made a miracle happen. And, uh…” She scratched her chin, which wasn’t itchy. “As for success and all that business, we might talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay, then. I promise I’ll read your book, and I’ll have something constructive to say about it, too. Five o’clock good?”

“Sure thing. I’m looking forward to it! Thank you so much, and I hope you like it!”

Twilight smiled. “No problem! I will!” They hugged.

More small talk commenced before Autumn cleaned up her table and left, waving off her new friend. With all things considered, it turned out not to be such a bad day after all. She didn’t feel good for pouring herself out to Twilight like that, but then again, it was just that bit of recognition that made it all worth it. Not only did somepony care, but somepony who was that intelligent and interesting. Could she actually help me go places? She thought.

As Autumn cantered out of the massive library, she reflected back on Twilight’s point: You shouldn’t worry so much about being successful. It wasn’t necessarily that, it was just the problem of being noticed, of somepony actually caring. This wasn’t a feeling the award-winning, constantly lauded mare was truly familiar with before, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why: she was out in the open wild. She had to build this success for herself. Nopony actually cared about her, anymore. Relatively speaking.

Of course she didn’t expect great fortune to magically shine forth upon her as soon as she graduated, but then again, she wasn’t the luckiest of ponies, either. She was aware of many other authors out there who had just the same problem, but met more degrees of success than herself in shorter time. It literally made her sick with jealousy, and she hated the feeling as much as she hated the unfairness.

But then a happy little voice of encouragement called out in her head.

”Just enjoy what you love doing!”

Yeah… I should…

Autumn walked out of the entrance of the library and into the streets, looking forward to a night out with her friends.

***

Sweat. Blood.

Dehydration.

Despite knowing what’d be there, she once again looked above herself into the canopy. Pitch darkness. She looked back to her watch: 3:26 PM.

The jungle had a personality, or more accurately, a motive. The miserable mare could’ve pinned this on the island’s curse, but a presence made itself tangible enough she could sense its age. Rotting trunks conglomerated on the ground into large piles, yet they didn’t appear to fall there by accident. Vines the size of Daring’s neck wrapped around them, sprouting various smaller limbs as they hugged the downed foliage. Everything else that wasn’t dead was just barely rooted into the poisoned soil. Sounds of wildlife echoed all around: something like frogs, something like birds, something like predators, only poorly imitated. It was like watching a play if all the props were fifty years old.

No matter how many times she embarked, Daring knew she’d always be spending more time withering away from her own needs than she’d prefer. She wasn’t really the type to carry around a fridge, but she had to make do with something edible.

Sitting up against the bottom of a trunk, she greedily peeled open a cheap energy bar and smashed it into her mouth. Her canteen soon followed, washing down the taste of weekly workout regimen nutrients. She felt it go into her stomach, and it was nice. No complaining.

Daring tried flexing her right wing, but the familiar twinge of pain returned. After seeing the black canopy, though, she realized flying probably wouldn’t have served such a great purpose after all, but the last thing she needed in the middle of this sickened island was something missing. When her life counted on it, everything was important. Everything a purpose.

“Aw, darn it!” Autumn yelled. “Another typo!”

“Really?” Kind Sight responded. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

Two mares walked down the excited night time streets of Canterlot, giving no care to anything except their own enjoyment and a bit of catharsis. The stars of the night were still visible amidst the blasting lights and neon of the activity below.

Autumn cantered with a fat blue book in her hoof, splayed wide open as she half focused on the direction of her movements. Frequently, the opposing mare - whose well-maintained light pink coat and fuschia mane reflected passing lights - had to stop her friend from slamming into street lights and other ponies. Kind Sight wished she’d put her book away, but at the same time, she knew just how much it meant for her to see her own work materialized into such a worthy hardcopy. The small mare wished she could see such things come from her work, too.

“I guess,” Autumn responded. “I was just kind of hoping my editor would’ve, well… Found more, ya’ know?”

“Remember, hon’, this is just a test product. No doubt they’ll run an editor by your work again before the second batch, and hopefully there’ll be less errors.”

“If there’ll be a second batch,” she corrected. “After today’s disaster, what hope am I supposed to have, anymore? I’m just writing garbage genre fiction. What sort of debut is it when you produce nothing serious? I just wish- huh?”

A petite hoof met Autumn’s withers, and she craned her head around.

“Auty, I just want to apologize again for not showing up. I really hated myself for not making it. I knew how much this meant to you; I should’ve found a way to avoid my shift long enough just to see you in action.”

“Don’t worry about it, Kind, I couldn’t fault you over that. We all have to work. Can’t take off whenever we want, right?”

“It doesn’t stop me from feeling bad, though,” she said softly. “And I was shocked to hear nopony from the club showed up. Are you sure it wasn’t just bad scheduling?”

Both mares weaved around another throng of ponies, waiting to pass by their social cacophony before continuing. “Not at all! They knew two weeks in advance! I reminded them every waking day leading up to that point! It shouldn’t have been like… Like that…”

Wordlessly, Kind Sight wrapped her hooves around her prolific friend. “You’re just starting out, Auty. I wish you wouldn’t go so hard on yourself.”

Autumn, who was already returning the hug, rested her chin on her friend’s shoulder. “I know, I just… I wanted to cry today, Kind. I wanted to cry so badly. I couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t that they forgot, they just didn’t care. I don’t produce good enough ideas to generate anypony’s interests. I just don’t have that ability in me. I can only write what interests me, and that’s usually not interesting to anypony else.”

The smaller pink mare pulled back just enough to meet Autumn’s eyes. “That’s not true at all. You shouldn’t be so down on yourself. Look around. Don’t you know how many other authors face the same problems? And furthermore, your ideas are brilliant. Don’t you remember what that unicorn said? Your work made her cry.”

“My work’s done that to lots of ponies,” she said, as if this were nothing. “I’ve seen complete hacks write garbage that made others cry. It doesn’t take much, really.”

Kind knew Autumn wasn’t the self-depreciating type, but when she got into moods like this, it was nearly impossible to help her. So instead, as she often did during one of these moments, the pink earth pony dropped all frothy compliments and told her the straight truth.

“Lots of writers can make their readers feel, but it takes true finesse to make them think. I’ve seen you do both at the same time. More times than I could ever count.” Even the truth, itself, was practically complimenting her.

Autumn sniffled. “I suppose… I’m just not in a good mood right now. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, hon’. We’ll just sit in the diner for a bit and talk. It’ll be easier than out in the public.”

The mares carried themselves a little further until they reached said diner. Going inside, they noticed very few other ponies hung around. This was normal. Waving at one of the bartenders, Kind jumped up into a stool and rested her hooves on the counter.

“Hi, Pepper. Two large ciders, please.” Bits down.

“Comin’ right up!” Within seconds, the bartender poured out two glasses and brought them right back. “Lemme’ know whatever you want when you’re ready.”

The young author pulled herself up next to Kind, already presented with something to drink. “Just what I needed,” she laughed and took a swig. She knew it would go straight to her thighs – just like it’s been doing since graduation – but she didn’t care.

A slow jazz tune played from a stray jukebox in the corner, reminding Autumn of all the times she used music to influence her mood when writing. The more languid stuff fit whenever her characters were struggling against the odds, while more upbeat tempos fleshed out the feeling of dramatic encounters and prospective doom. The former was especially helpful when Daring Do had traversed the Dead Islands looking for her friends, as well as the search for the Bright Chalice.

“Good music, right?”

Autumn was torn from her reverie. “Huh?” She blinked her eyes. “Oh. Sorry, yeah.”

Pepper had both of his hooves on the table. “You’re welcome to go over there and change it to any song you want, Auty.”

“Oh, no, no, that’s okay.”

“It’s only us in here. I primarily play whatever you two like in the evenings.” He changed the subject. “So, uh… How was the book signing, today?” Her downed expression partially answered him, and he felt regret as soon as the question left his lips.

“Nopony showed up.”

“Really!? Not even anypony from the club?”

“Nopony.” She took another drink. “There wasn’t enough people who cared, so nopony showed up. The end.”

“Something about that ain’t right…” the azure-coated pegasus frowned. “Your book’s plenty interesting, and there was already a bunch of ponies who knew it was comin’ out. I would’ve come myself, but I had work.”

“That’s been everyone’s excuse today,” she said, wallowing in pity.

“Well, maybe not everypony can take off work to appease you?”

Autumn felt bad. “I’m sorry, Pepper. I’ve been snappy all day. I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I understand. I was just pointing out a fact; we all have lives to live, and we can’t always do what we want.”

Pepper’s words shook loose an errant emotion in the curly-maned writer’s body. Kind Sight silently watched them converse.

“Pepper, I have a question if you don’t mind me asking it. It’s kind of personal.”

“Sure, go ahead.”

She sighed. “What was the first thing you did when you got out of college?”

“Uhh…” Pepper was almost a generation older than Autumn, meaning quite a bit had happened since he left school. “Well, I looked for jobs. Did spot welding at a prison for a year, moved around a bit, went back home with my parents, then I settled into bartending. Two years later, I was promoted to manager. They offered me a regional job but I heard it involved more work, so I just kinda settled into this. Nothing special.”

The cream pony felt a bit of relief from her own fears. She was still young, and was just beginning her twenties, but time was always ticking.

“So you don’t mind all the time you’ve just spent juggling work and moving around?”

“Er, am I supposed to?”

Autumn saw herself as somepony knowledgeable and intelligent, not because she was full of herself or arrogant, but she was just afraid of being ignorant.

“Well, no, it’s just…” She twiddled her hooves in a way to break eye contact. “I’m not sure how to put this…”

“Lemme see if I can figure it out,” he said. “You asked this because I graduated with an art degree, right?”

There was a short delay in Autumn’s response. “Yes.”

“Are you worried you’re gonna end up like me?”

The worried writer felt Kind’s hoof fall softly on her shoulder. She looked up at her faithful friend’s warm face.

The azure stallion continued. “We’re all creative people here, Autumn, and you’ve achieved a lot more success than us. I mean, you wrote a freakin’ book for cryin’ out loud! How many ponies do you know that can claim they’ve done something like that? I wish I could’ve said that at twenty-one. And what else was it that you wrote? Like, forty short stories, ten novellas and whatnot? That’s incredible, Autumn. If you did nothing else with your life, you’d still have a legacy because of that.

“So what if a bunch of stupid ponies don’t show up for a book reading? You made it this far; you’ve learned this much already. You mind as well not stop. Keep going. Show the world what a skilled pony you are.”

She smiled, though she still felt something lacking.

He continued. “I don’t imagine I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. I’ve just lived and taken things as they came. It’s too bad I never got a straight up job pertaining to art, but hey, I’m still young. Who knows? Thirty-two isn’t gonna stop me.”

Autumn had to admire Pepper’s confidence. It was something she knew she severely lacked, and she knew for a fact it was her greatest weakness. Whereas she could imagine herself sinking into hopeless depression if she were Pepper, he instead took it with brazing confidence. She wondered what it was like to not live with crippling affective disorders.

Kind Sight joined in. “I’ve always envied your talent, too, Auty. I don’t think you have much to worry about. With all the ponies out there who’ve achieved so much success, it can really make you feel small, but that doesn’t mean they’re all happy, either. They still have problems like us. I think this is a problem you should address before you really do get popular, or else it’ll be like you’re constantly hiding a blemish. Even though what you always wanted happened externally, you’ll always still be afraid of it underneath.”

Kind’s last comment resonated with Autumn. “Yeah… you’re right. I just… I dunno. I guess that’s just the way I am or something. I don’t like being that way.”

“It’s no problem,” she responded. “We’re always here to help.”

The energy of the situation called for a slight subject change, and the young author was quick to initiate it. “I lied a little earlier. There was this one mare who showed up at the signing…”

***

Autumn cantered into the main chamber of the library, diminished by towering book cases and high-rising architecture. Though it’s seen modern redesigns and new coats of paint, it still felt like she was taking a walk back through time. To her, everything about this place screamed refinement.

Her trots were much lighter today, and an easy-going grin grew on her face. She carried in a rather large saddlebag, though it wasn’t filled with anything from yesterday. At least, not prominently.

As she cantered up to the second floor, she caught sight of a familiar lavender mare hunched over a desk, minding her own business. This only made the Daring Do author’s excitement rise even further.

Twilight felt a tapping on her shoulder. She turned around, already knowing who she’d see.

“Autumn!” She said, abandoning her desk. “Great to see you!” They hugged into each other.

“It’s great to hear that, Twilight, cause’ I’ve also got an extra treat to share while we discuss the book!”

“Oooh!” The unicorn said as she looked at Autumn’s saddlebags. “I’m already excited! By the way, we’re not gonna talk about the book here. I have a special room for that. Come follow!”

Twilight’s excitement was truly infectious, the writer thought, and she never figured she’d get tired of it. But as they passed out of the main chamber and into narrower hallways, Autumn noticed she became slightly quiet. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to just follow a friend and walk along in silence, but the unicorn started out with considerably more energy than this. Autumn also caught her friend occasionally wincing.

“Twilight?”

“Hm?” She asked, not turning around.

“Are you okay? You don’t seem as peppy as you were earlier.” She avoided addressing what was wrong directly.

“Oh, heh heh, yeah…”

Autumn raised an eye brow.

Finally, Twilight opened the door to a small study room. An already-lit fireplace burned in the far end with a big, comfy couch facing just a few feet in front of it. A small bookcase with a fairly large amount of books sat inside, varying in size, quality, age and genre.

“The Princess let me have my own study room where I could store my own book collection. I haven’t been spending as much time in it lately as I’d have preferred, but today I’ll try to make up for that.”

Autumn felt extremely cozy and comfortable inside. She was almost willing enough to ask Twilight if she could move in.

The unicorn, herself, took a seat on the couch. “Whew... I’m really beat. Oh, and, uh…” She pointed a hoof. “You’ll find Daring Do over there on my shelf, far left. Can’t miss it!”

“No problem…” The writer approached Twilight’s personal collection, her eyes scanning over all the books she had piled up over the years. They blurred in her vision as the only one that mattered was Daring Do.

Taking it back over to the couch, Autumn took a seat with Twilight. “Here it is! All ready?”

“Y-yeah…” The unicorn made a barely visible cringe as she took the book from her friend’s hooves. “Well, I’d like to point out something right quick before I start.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I was looking over the signature on the front page – and just to let you know, I’ll always appreciate getting personally delivered books with the author’s signing, so I have to thank you.” She smiled gingerly.

“It’s fine. Anything for my friends and fans.”

“Excellent, but I digress!” Twilight chanted a little too loud, flipping the very first page open. The left side revealed a short description of the book, as well as a short biography of the author. The right side showed the author’s signature. Autumn felt a welling of pride and accomplishment from seeing another pony looking down at her work. “When you signed your name, I couldn’t help but notice your initials.”

“Alright. What about them?”

“A. Yearling.”

“And?”

“Umm, well…” she rubbed her shoulder, afraid of speaking. “It… Well, it sounds kinda funny. I mean, I know that’s your name and everything, but it sounds like it says a yearling or something.”

Autumn rubbed her chin. “Huh… I never really thought of that.”

“It’s good you can look over this stuff before your book goes bigger. Have you considered adopting a stage name of sorts? Like, perhaps, add a certain thing to your name so it has more, uh, uumph?”

“I’ll just add a letter or something.”

“Good enough.”

Twilight flipped through the first few pages until she reached chapter two.

Autumn watched with excitement, her eyes twinkling with joy. “So, how much of my book did you rip through last night, huh? Was there a lot to see in that wild and dangerous world I built?” She rubbed her hooves together like a mad scientist.

The bookish unicorn wiped sweat from off her forehead. “Of course. There was definitely a lot to see, that’s for sure!”

“Oh, ooh! One sec!” Autumn turned around to pull items out of her saddlebag, and was spared the sight of Twilight letting out a sigh of relief. “Before we start – I mean, I guess we can do it either way – but I just wanted to show you all the stuff I did when I worked.”

The Daring Do author placed down several folders, drawings and sketches on the cushions between herself and Twilight. “I know there’s a lot of writers out there who can churn out things without planning a single bit in advance, but I’m the total opposite. Planning is just about as fun as the process of writing the book, itself!”

The unicorn nodded happily - and nervously - as she looked down at her work. Folders had names of characters and settings, likely to include dozens of pages of information on each, as well as some conceptual art of jungles and exotic cities. It really blew Twilight away, but the more she looked at it, the more her guilt grew. She worked so hard on this…

“Everything you see here, I did!” She smiled, her words pouring out. “It was all me. I drew everything here, and I deeply dug into the mentality of my characters. I also had each scene planned out in spreadsheets. I have to know exactly what I’m doing before I jump into writing anything.”

The unicorn was slack jawed. “Wow, Autumn, you really have some serious talent! I’m being serious this time!”

“This time?”

Twilight sucked in air. “Uh- Ah- Yeah, no! Like-“ She facehoofed. “I mean- Never mind!”

Autumn cocked her head. What’s going on?

“Any who!” Twilight followed up her fumbling. “I’m sorry there. Sometimes I have little malfunctions every now and then, heh heh…”

“Okay?”

“So… Seriously, though, Autumn, this is fantastic!”

The writer reached for her work and slowly pulled it back. “I think I changed my mind. I actually just want to talk about the book. We keep putting it off. This is the only thing I’ve been able to think of all day. I’m just dying to hear another pony discuss my work with me, that’s all.” She placed most of her stuff back into the saddlebag. “Let’s just dive right into it. Where do you wanna start?”

Twilight’s stomach knotted up. The subtle apprehension written on her face turned into full-blown fear, and Autumn could see it clear as day. Knowing she could no longer hide the truth, the unicorn ceased holding back and dipped her head down, ready to reveal everything.

“Twilight, what’s wrong?”

“I read three chapters.”

Autumn almost laughed. “Okay, what’s so bad about that? I mean, I guess that’s far less than what you kept bragging about the other day, but I don’t mind.”

“It’s…” She took a deep breath. “It’s because I had to force myself to read it.”

Twilight hid her face in her hooves, but not for long. She looked straight back at her opposing friend. Her expression was completely blank.

“Oh.” Autumn looked down to the couch. “Okay.”

Silence. The campfire burned and crackled just in front of them.

“Then I guess I can’t force other ponies to like my stuff. That’s all.”

The lavender mare recoiled, but she knew she had to stick to her guns. “I’m sorry, Autumn. I just can’t lie to you. It’s not because I think the story is bad or anything. In fact, I think you wrote an excellent book, and I can see how rich and detailed the settings and characters are, but… I dunno, I guess this isn’t my sort of story. It could just be that I’m not used to this type of fiction, yet. I’m actually used to literary works, like your short stories.”

“Well… I appreciate your honesty,” she said. “But it proves what I said yesterday.”

Twilight was too afraid to ask, but did it to humor her. “Wh-what was it?”

“I don’t write things ponies want to read. I wasn’t meant to go beyond being a cashier, or anypony more special than that. Some ponies are destined to become noticed, and others aren’t. I’m going to end up like every other poor college grad and get old and never do anything special with my life. I’ll just wither away.”

Her friend’s dark thoughts worried Twilight. “That isn’t true, Autumn. We don’t know what the future holds. I’m the only pony who’s given you feedback so far, and I’m very willing as a critic to help you improve everything I can.”

“There’s no reason to improve it. Nopony’s going to read it, so who’s gonna care, anyway?”

“I care, Autumn! I want you to succeed!”

“But you didn’t even like it!”

She was becoming rash, Twilight thought. She had to tread carefully from here on out. Though this was her room and she could easily get her kicked out, that wasn’t her intent. She had no reason to hurt an already suffering mare.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I think it’s a great work of fiction and it shows your dedication to the craft, but again, it just wasn’t my sort of book. And furthermore, that doesn’t mean I still won’t try to contribute.”

Twilight got off the couch. “I kept noticing this the whole time I talked to you yesterday, and unfortunately, it turns out I was correct. You worry so much about getting famous, it’s torturing you! The reason I came over to check out your work was because you looked like you were getting ready to cry! You’re demanding the world to make you famous and it’s tearing you apart!”

“I just want somepony to care, Twilight!” On cue, tears fell from Autumn’s eyes. Sounds of incoherent sobbing echoed across the room.

Twilight flinched, backing up to allow more space between them.

“I-I knew I was too s-stupid to do something like this!” She cried. “I’m not professional at anything! I’m crying like a-a l-little foal!” She whimpered into her forearms.

The unicorn wanted to get closer to her, but she was limited in her choices. Urgently, Twilight searched her mind for something constructive to say.

“Autumn?”

More sobbing.

“I…” Her work’s been out for two days and she already thinks nopony wants to read it? “I just want to say…”

“What!?” Completely and totally out of nowhere, Autumn took the book in her hoof, pulled out of her tear puddle and raised it up above her head. She wound her arm back like a pitcher and set her eyes on the campfire.

“NO!!” Twilight watched the book shoot through the air, but just before Daring Do fell into the firey pit, it was enveloped in a purple aurora. The unicorn nearly had a heart attack on the spot, unable to handle something so precious being so easily subjected to total annihilation by its own creator. She looked back at Autumn, glaring daggers.

“How could you?” She asked. “How could you just do that to your own book?!”

“Nopony cares! That’s why!” She shook weakly, tears rolling down her face.

“If people knew you were really like this, do you think you’d deserve all that fame and attention, anyway?” She defiantly threw her hoof in the air. “If the world made you famous just because you demanded it, what would that say about yourself?”

Autumn wiped away her tears. She looked at Twilight with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave now. I’m stupid.”

“Wait, no!”

The disturbed mare got off the couch and briskly walked towards the door. Twilight caught her shoulder.

“Please!” The unicorn pleaded. “I’m not mad at you. Please just stay. I don’t want you to leave angry.”

She turned back. “I won’t bother you again, Twilight. I’m sorry for acting so disrespectful.”

“Autumn, I’m willing to forget that. Just come back with me and we’ll talk, okay?”

She gave Twilight a forlorn expression. “I’m too embarrassed.”

“How will going out in public looking that way be any better?” The lavender mare got in front of her, settling both hooves on her shoulders. “At the very least, just stay here and calm down a little. That’s all I want you to do for now.”

Autumn silently looked back and nodded. “Well… Okay.”

After the two mares hugged into each other, the budding writer found her mood gradually improving. They returned to the couch and Twilight did as she promised. Autumn listened to her studious friend’s points and criticisms, and she took them with no turbulence. Twilight was delighted to see how well she was taking it.

The constructive mingling continued, but as the night slowly snuck up, Autumn knew she had to leave. Thanks to a bit of convincing on Twilight’s part, the day ended very well once again, and Autumn left feeling refreshed and satisfied. But unbeknownst to her, the unicorn already had something planned.

***

Wearing her pink apron, Autumn watched the restaurant coming into view.

Just take it one day at a time. She went inside the front entrance, and as she cantered across the room, a voice called out in the far corner.

“There she is!”

“SURPRISE!!” A chorus of ponies yelled.

Autumn jumped back, bearing witness to a sight she thought she could only dream. A dozen or so ponies were sitting around a long table, surrounding a plethora of sweets, drinks and a square cake sitting in the middle. None of them were strangers: she recognized Kind Sight, her manager, Pepper, a bunch of ponies from Big Fish, and even Twilight. They all waved at her.

“Dear Celestia!” She said. “You guys…”

Kind got up from her chair. “Come on over, Auty! You’ve got a party to attend!”

“I… I…”

“Hey, it may not be the same thing as a book signing, but at the very least, we can make you feel like a true friend. Your efforts shouldn’t go unrecognized,” she smiled.

Twilight got up, holding a glass of tea. “She’s right. It was the least we could do!”

“Yep, and you can thank Twilight for organizing this whole thing overnight!”

Autumn wasn’t sure what to say.

Pepper stepped in. “Check out the cake!”

The author approached the table and saw a hastily designed recreation of the cover of Daring Do. She smiled and laughed.

“I did it overnight. At least you can kinda tell what it’s supposed to look like.”

She hugged him. “You shouldn’t have, Pepper. I can’t believe this.”

“It was nothing. I just took my time with it and had it complete in a few hours. I picked chocolate, by the way.”

Autumn broke the hug, then she kissed him on the cheek. “You’re too sweet, Pepper.”

His faced blushed. “Guhh… Uh…”

“But before we do this, I have to tell you and everypony else something really important.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“I…” She gazed all around at the ponies who showed up. They gave her warm expressions. “It’s just… I don’t really know if I deserve this.”

Kind jumped in. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the only thing I’ve done for the past three days was whine and complain when I had absolutely nothing to complain about. This entire time, I’ve never felt satisfied with myself, and like Twilight said,” –She pointed a hoof in her direction- “what’s success gonna say about me if all I did was complain for it? I’m not telling you guys to pack up or anything like that, no, no. I’m just not totally sure if I deserve such forgiveness after my attitude.”

Twilight walked over, joining Kind and Pepper. “You deserve every bit of it, Autumn. No question about it. We all get discouraged every now and then, so it’s understandable if you’re worried. I knew your book signing didn’t help, so I had to do something to make up for it.”

Autumn simply stared at her in awe. “Twilight, you’re a miracle.”

The unicorn sheepishly grinned. “Oh, don’t say that. I was just being a friend, is all.”

Autumn settled in with the rest of the group and they had their meal. It was unarguably the best day of work she ever had, and one of the best days she ever had, too. She couldn’t thank her friends enough.

The young writer, who was holding Twilight’s copy of Daring Do, stared down at the signature.

Thank you for being my first fan, Twilight! Hope you enjoy reading! –A. Yearling

Kind approached Autumn, watching her pensively staring into the page. “Whatcha’ thinking about?”

The curly-maned mare looked up. “I was just thinking of a suggestion Twilight made. She said that ‘A. Yearling’ sounded funny.”

“Hmm, doesn’t sound that way to me.”

Studying the signature, Autumn suddenly had an idea. Picking up a pen, she marked a line through her name and rewrote it just underneath, only a little different. Kind took notice.

“Why did you add a ‘K’ after the ‘A’?”

She looked up and smiled. “For you, Kind. On the next run through of my book, I’d like you to be my editor.”

Kind nearly choked. “What?

“I’ve also had a sequel planned for the future, and there might be a spot for you to co-write or edit it, as well. If success ever happens someday, I mind as well share it with my most talented short-story-writing friend in the world!”

“I- Uh…” Her eyes grew wide.

“Gg-ff fer eghf!” Kind turned around, seeing Twilight yelling as she swallowed her cake. “Autumn needs all the help she can get! Go for it!”

She looked back at her cream-coated friend and grinned.

“Of course! Thank you so much!”

Autumn received another hug. “No problem, Kind.” Then a thought occurred. “Still, it’s gonna be weird calling myself ‘A.K. Yearling’ from now on…”