A.K. Yearling looks at the blank paper in her typewriter, and lets out a groan of frustration. Her gaze switches back and forth between her adventure notes, to the typewriter to the stack of pages yet to go through the typewriter.
“Damn it all to Tartarus!” Yearling lets out a shout. “Why can’t I get this book written?”
A.K. Yearling was suffering from a condition that was worse than any illness. There was no medicine, and definitely no cure. She was suffering from the bane of any writer’s existence. Writer’s Block. She had already gone for a walk out in the woods surrounding her isolated cabin three times that day to try and clear her head, and come up with how to translate the hastily scribbled notes from her Adventure Log into the next best-selling Daring Doo book. But no matter what she tried, nothing came to her mind.
She lifts her mug off of her table, and places it to her lips, ready to taste the bitter liquid within, but it never came. She looked into the mug, which was undeniably empty. “Great… now I’m going to need more coffee.” She mumbles under her breath.
Getting up from her work-table, coffee mug in tow, she walks to the kitchen, which although in reality was just a few yards away; it may as well be a few miles away, given her physically and mentally exhausted state. Yearling had stayed awake right through the weekend, trying to put words on paper, but no matter how much she willed her next book into existence, the blank pages keep taunting her, and the words continue to elude her. “Maybe I’ll feel better after some coffee.” She said to the empty house. “And maybe, if I keep saying that, it’ll be true, unlike the last 16 times.” She mumbles under her breath.
Sitting back down at her table, fresh steaming mug of coffee in hoof, she inhales the aroma, before letting the energizing liquid enter her mouth. The effect is almost immediate, her eyes are no longer drooping, and are now full of vigour and life, She raises her hooves up to the keyboard of the typewriter, and… Nothing. Despite being newly energized from the coffee, a novel continued to escape her skill to produce. Once again, she throws her hooves up in frustration, and leans back in the chair. ”What do I have to do to make this story come to be?” She asks the slowly rotating fan on the ceiling. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t reply. “Well you’re no help then, are you?” She spat at the fan.
Once again, she’s looking back to her notes, and then she picks up the notepad, flips to the back, and begins to doodle with a pencil she had nearby. She sat there, drawing Ahuizotl holding a gem, Daring Doo bravely swooping in to snatch it away. Never for herself, of course. Always to donate to the continued pursuit of knowledge.
Yearling really could not understand why she was having such trouble in coming up with a story from her mess of scribbles. She’s never had this issue before. In fact, in the past, the words just always seem to flow non-stop. She has often had to literally pull herself away from her typewriter just to eat, being so absorbed in her writing, she forgets about her basic needs like sleep and food. Sadly, this was not the case this time. Although the coffee provided a temporary boost in energy, the mug was, once again, empty, and Yearling felt her eyes begin to droop.
Her deadline to deliver the story was within four months, so she had to get started on it, and although she knew how it was going to end, the complications in the story, she didn’t know how to start it, how to fill it to make it flow nicely, and not just drag on. “Right, if I can’t get this story started in the next twenty minutes, I’m going to bed, and maybe I’ll think of something tomorrow.” She said with resoluteness in her voice.
So Yearling sat, and watched the paper, and sat, and watched the paper, until her vision started to blur, before going black. She had fallen asleep at her desk.
Several hours later, Yearling awakes with a start. Her neck incredibly stiff from being bent at an awkward angle while she slept. As she moved her head around, and massaged her neck slightly, she heard a couple of cricks. Feeling somewhat more comfortable again, she looked, once more, to the blank sheets, still with no sentences forming in her mind to fill the pages. Yearling decides to go for another walk. Perhaps, unlike all the other times, this time will prove to be eventful enough to get her writing gears turning, and she may still get this book out on time.
So, like all the previous times, she pulls on her coat, and her hat, before setting off out the door. Just like the three times she went out yesterday, it was a nice day. Not too hot, not too cold and a beautiful crystal clear sky. As she walks, she pays attention to all the little sounds that the creatures who call these woods home make. Hoping inside that they will tell her what to write. She hung her head slightly, as she realized that, of course, the animals were not going to be any help to her. The only thing she could do now was to return back to her cottage.
When she returns, however, things were not alright. There were six strange ponies standing in her living room. A.K. Yearling sighs slightly mentally, looking at the six ponies that have invaded her house. Looking at the living room from top to bottom, somepony has caused a mess. “What are you all doing here?” She asks, keeping her voice calm, despite the disaster that’s happened inside.
This is how it begins, Yearling thinks. Fans are finally going to know the truth. I’ve kept it hidden for so long, I suppose it had to come out… Sooner or later.
Author's Note
From here, it follows the storyline of the episode Daring Don't. I hoped you enjoyed this story. If so, please leave a comment, like and a fave. 
