I Loathe Having to Make My Literary Work Meet the Public's Taste

by McDronePone

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Cadance, Original Character, Random, Princess Celestia, Twilight Sparkle, Princess Luna
Length: 4922

Just how hard can it be to get your own story pubished?

Short Quill is not happy.

He has just written what he considers to be the short story he has put the most effort into and now he can't get it published. It was meant to go into a weekly leaflet of short stories known all across Equestria, but the publisher believes it doesn't meet the specific taste of readers and wants it rewritten to be more orientated about the princesses. This is the first and possibly only chance for him to become known outside of Manehatten and one way or the other he's going to get it in the paper.

Even if he has to come up with something he absolutely loathes.

Published 2015-03-27 12:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-27 12:50:02 UTC

Four Ponies Stuck in A Room

Four Ponies Stuck in A Room
by Short Quill

Four ponies sat in a room while the world outside was ablaze in turmoil. As the dignitaries of their once mighty kingdom, they were called for a meeting on how to end the civil war that sprung up not too long ago. Yet as they sat there in that sealed room; in that dim light; at that circular table, their bicker and banter never ended with a conclusion.

“We should take all the rebels and pass down harsh judgment,” raved the red dignitary.

“No, I believe we must show them their options and give them a choice of surrendering or succeeding from the kingdom,” suggested the yellow dignitary.

“That’s too risky. I say we appease them and end this conflict now,” pleaded the blue dignitary.

“You’re all idiots. I say we allow this war to continue and make a profit out of it with all the industry needed to supply the weapons,” reasoned the green dignitary.

Back and forth; round and round; on and on the endless resolutions, suggestions, and bargaining continued amongst the four dignitaries, all the while the sound of battle outside grew closer to them. Sooner or later their conversation would be for naught as either the guard would signal the all-clear, or the rebels would crash through the gates and destroy everything.

“Enough of this,” the red dignitary yelled, brandishing his blade. “If you are not with me, than you are all against me!”

“Stay your hand,” cautioned the yellow dignitary as he readied his own sword, “or I’ll stay it for you.”

“I do not wish for violence,” pleaded the blue dignitary as he wearily withdrew his sword, “but if you cannot stay calm, then I won’t hesitate to defend myself.

“Oh fine! If this is what all of you want,” the green dignitary stated and followed with his “then I’ll agree to this madness too.”

And so the tension reached its climax and they all lunged at each other.

Soon enough the war ended, the fighters coming to a not too peaceful yet not too violent resolution. As they rebuild what was left--with a white flag symbolizing their new-found unity--they never found the room with the four ponies lying lifeless.

Four ponies stuck in a room while the world outside continued.

THE END

“We’re not publishing this,” the big pony said plainly. That's the last thing Short Quill wanted to hear.

“But, I worked on that story for a week straight! Fine tuning the pace, making sure each pony was written just right, and everything.” He took the draft from the pony's hooves with his magic and shook them in annoyance. "Isn't this the kind of stuff you're looking for, Mr. Print?"

Print shook his head, much to Short Quill's dissapointment. "Not exactly. It's a decent story, but it's about four random, faceless ponies that our readers won't recognize.”

Short Quill continued to be confused. “Of course they’ll know who they are. I named them specifically. Do you want me to read it to you?”

“Quill, let me tell you something,” Print began, taking his wide, round frame around his desk and past Quill to the office door, where he looked out its window to the ponies working busily on typewriters and print presses. “The ‘Equestrian Tall Tales’ is a big time story leaflet. We don’t just have readers here in Manehatten, but in Hoofington, Baltimare, Filly Delphia, and we’re working on getting published in Canterlot.”

“And this has to do with my story how?”

Print turned back to Quill. “When you’re published in that many big cities, you start to get the general idea of what the readers want,” he hulked back over to the desk and plotted his big rear back down on his chair, “our leaflet is no different.”

Quill remained puzzled at what Print was getting at. “So?”

“So, what our readers like to read right now the most are stories involving the princesses.”

“So you want me to just rewrite my story so that a couple of readers can get their jollies for a few quick seconds,” Quill questioned with agitation. “What can of illogic is that? Why can’t you put my story in there and let some ponies skip it and others read it?”

Print was slowly getting aggravated with this unicorn. “Because even the smallest of opinions can blow up in your face, Quill. You’d be surprised at how many ponies grasp at straws just to criticize us. We put a story that doesn’t live up to what’s hot right now and we can have a huge drop in readers.”

“But,” Quill began but struggled to find a way to finish, “but this is my first chance to really get recognized outside of Manehatten. Surely you’ve read some of my work in the paper’s ‘Stories From your Very Own’ column, right?”

A migraine was beginning to form in Print’s head. “That’s a newspaper, Quill. It has more worries over what readers like than just one section.”

“Look, Mr. Print,” Quill began to plead. “There’s only four days left before your next issue goes out. I’ve read everyone up to this point and I can tell it's obviously something major. All I want is to get this one story published sooner rather than later. Please reconsider?”

“Quill for the—”

“Please.”

“Quill…”

“Pretty please?”

“I…”

“Pretty please with a strawberry minted gummy cherry on a sundae on top?”

“What in the world is th—”

“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaa~”

“WOULD YOU QUIT ACTING LIKE A FOAL!” Print’s bellowing outburst could be heard outside the office as multiple ponies quickly turned to see where the yell came from. He had to take few quick huffs and puffs before he could finally have the breath to respond to Quill proper. “If you’re so persistent to get this in now, just rewrite the thing or make up something else. Either way, I’m not putting this in the leaflet as it is.”

Quill was about to respond but the death glare Print was giving quickly discourage any kind of retort. He sighed to in defeat and submitted. “Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow with something else for you. And I promise it’ll,” he struggled to say the next few words, filtering them through his gritted teeth, “give the readers what they want.”

With that said—and a quick glass of water with aspirin for Print—Quill stormed out of the office, grumbling and mumbling obscenities as he walked.

“’What the readers want.’ Oh I’ll give them what they want all right. Princesses here, there, every which where.” And such mumblings continued until he got home to give such readers exactly what they want.

Four Princesses Stuck in A Room

Four Princesses Stuck in a Room
by Short Quill

The Four Princesses of Equestria sat in a room in Canterlot Castle while Equesrtria itself lay outside, ablaze in turmoil. As the royal heirs of their once mighty kingdom, they were called for a meeting on how to end the civil war that sprung up not too long ago. Yet as they sat there in that sealed room; in that dim light; at that circular table, their bicker and banter never ended with a conclusion.

“We should take all the rebels and pass down harsh judgment,” raved the Moon Princess, Luna.

“No, I believe we must show them their options and give them a choice of surrendering or succeeding from the kingdom,” suggested the Sun Primcess, Celestia.

“That’s too risky. I say we appease them and end this conflict now,” pleaded the Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza.

“You’re all idiots. I say we allow this war to continue and make a profit out of it with all the industry needed to supply the weapons,” reasoned the Princess who bore the Magic Element of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle.

Back and forth; round and round; on and on the endless resolutions, suggestions, and bargaining continued amongst the four Princesses, all the while the sound of battle outside grew closer to them. Sooner or later their conversation would be for naught as either the guard would signals the all-clear, or the rebels would crash through the gates and destroy everything.

“Enough of this,” Luna yelled, charging up her horn. “If you are not with me, than you are all against me!”

“Stay your magic, sister,” cautioned Celstia as she readied her own horn, “or I’ll stay it for you.”

“I do not wish for violence,” pleaded Cadence as she wearily prepared her own magic, “but if you cannot stay calm, then I won’t hesitate to defend myself.

“Fine, if this is what all of you want,” Twilight Sparkle stated and followed her peers’ suite, “then I’ll agree to this madness too.”

And so the tension reached its climax and they all blasted powerful spells at each other.

Soon enough the war ended, the fighters coming to a not too peaceful yet not too violent resolution. As they rebuild what was left, they’ll never find the room with the four princesses lying lifeless.

Four princesses stuck in a room while the world outside continued.

THE END

Print’s mouth squirmed and twitched, yet not a single movement of it could form a word to even come close to describe what he felt after reading the text Quill had given just now.

With a smirk and look of content in his eyes, the unicorn asked Print the obvious question. “So what do you think? Is that good enough for you to put in your leaflet?”

Print continued to look at Quill with a sight that could only be described as baffled, stupefied, and utterly unbelieving of what he had just read. He quickly reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a pitcher of water and a glass. He carefully poured water into the glass and gulped it down in one, big swig. Immediately, he doused the the water left in the pitcher all over his head, drenching him and the chair he sat on. Then calmly, took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Quill…”

Said pony’s ears perked up. “Yes, Mr. Print?”

“Are you out of your mind? Or you just normally this thick headed?”

Quill's smirk quickly fell as he became perplexed by the statement. “I’m sorry?”

“This… this,” Print continued to struggle, trying to control the convulsions of his body in an attempt to keep calm. “This is the most ridiculous debauchery I have ever read in my life. Just what in Equestria were you thinking?”

“What? You wanted something relating to the princesses, I gave you something relating to the princesses. What’s the problem?”

“Problem,” Print said half laughing, half yelling. Then he went into a long, one-breath rant. “I’ll tell you what the problem is. First off, you literally just copied the first draft you gave me and replaced the characters you originally had with the princesses. Continuing from that is the second problem. You kept the original dialogue in, making these flat things you call ‘characters’ act nothing like the princesses. And thirdly, barring the fact that you wrote a story where you had all of our princesses die, you also shoe horn some side plot involving a civil war in today’s Equestria. At least I’m assuming that, because Twilight Sparkle is written down here as one of them. Do you SEE the problem now?!”

Quill stood there, watching Print breath until he was back to a calming state, waiting for an answer.

“Well besides the fact that you said incorrectly what I gave you the first time my ‘first draft,’ yes, I can see how what I’ve written now may make some ponies a little angry.”

“’A little angry?’ Quill, does the phrase ‘massive political backlash’ mean anything to you?”

“No because it shouldn’t have anything to do with my story.”

Print’s head was soon growing veins at this point. “If we publish this story in our leaflet, we’re looking at thousands of ponies writing in angry mails and assuming that were trying to incite some kind of revolt, or mutiny, or something equally as stupid as those. And on top of that, we’ll be losing all our readers in one single issue. Tell me you at least understand that.”

Quill just sighed at what he was hearing. “So not only do you want my story to involve the princesses, you also want me to make your readers happy and believe I’m not trying to incite a rebellion?”

“Or just make it look like you’re not,” Print reaffirmed his question handing him back his story. “If you still think you can pull that off, then come back to me and maybe I’ll see if we can put it in.”

Quill groaned but knew that he was fighting a losing argument. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do, Mr. Print. But you’ll get this in when it’s right, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Print said, quickly dismissing Quill, “just go so I can take a nap… in a grave.”

Quill left the offices, once again foiled by the specific taste of consumers. “All I’m trying to do is write something great for everypony to read, but apparently that’s not enough,” he grumbled to himself as he approached a crosswalk. “What am I gonna do?”

From across the street he could see a pastry vendor selling sweets to approaching costumers. At the sight of this an idea came to his mind. “I think I know how to make this story please everypony…”

Four Princesses Stuck in A Muffin

Four Princesses Stuck in a Muffin
by Short Quill

The Four Princesses of Equestria sat in a muffin in Canterlot Castle while Equesrtria itself lay outside, ablaze in delicious turmoil. As the royal heirs of their once delicious kingdom, they were called for a meeting on how to end the pastry war between the Ice Cream Confederacy and the Cupcake Inquisition. Yet as they sat there in that baked muffin; in that chewy core; at that circular table, their bicker and banter never ended with a conclusion.

“We should take all the ice cream and melt it with the sun,” raved the Moon Princess, Luna.

“No, I believe we must merge the Cupcakes and the Ice Creams to form a ‘CupCream’ empire,” suggested the Sun Princess, Celestia.

“That’s too risky. I say we appease the Ice Cream Confederacy and allow them their creamy rule,” pleaded the Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza.

“You’re all not thinking logically. I say we give all of them books and educate them so that they’re able to solve the problem themselves,” reasoned the Princess who bore the Magic Element of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle.

Back and forth; round and round; on and on the endless resolutions, suggestions, and bargaining continued amongst the four Princesses, all the while the sound of splattering sweets outside grew tastier to them. Sooner or later their conversation would be for naught as either the Ice Cream would sound the all-clear, or the Cupcakes would crash through the gates and eat everything.

“Enough of this,” Luna yelled, lifting a spoon and ice cream bowl in her magic. “If you are not with me, than you are all against me!”

“Stay your magic, sister,” cautioned Celestia as she brandished a freshly baked cupcake, “or I’ll stay it for you.”

“I do not wish for violence,” pleaded Cadence as she wearily pulled a tart from the toaster, “but if you cannot stay calm, then I won’t hesitate to eat this tart."

“Fine, if this is what all of you want,” Twilight Sparkle stated and followed her peers’ in raising sweets, “then I’ll agree to this madness too.”

And so the tension reached its climax and they all commenced in a food fight.

Soon enough the war ended, the Ice Creams and the Cupcakes merging together in perfect, gooey harmony. As they rebuild what was left, they’ll never find the room with the four princesses with frosting covering their bodies.

Four princesses stuck in a muffin while the world outside continued to taste good.

THE END

At this point, Print would have had Quill thrown out of his office if it wasn’t for the fact that this was the most bizarre draft he had written up yet.

“So is it good now?”

Quill sudden question snapped Print right out of his confused stasis. He looked back to Quill, then back to the parchment he handed him to make sure that this was something that a pony actually wrote.

“I mean,” Print began, “It’s not offensive or against what we want, but…”

Quill let out an aggravated moan. “What’s wrong with it now?”

“It’s boring.”

“What.”

“I mean, it made me laugh a little, but only because it was so off. Besides, this would only leave some readers confused and wonder if you’d lost it.”

“Ugh, again with the reader’s wants,” Quill complained.

“Quill, I know it sounds ridiculous, but the sad truth is that this leaflet practically lives off them. If they don’t like it, its life expectancy goes down. I’m just trying to make sure that doesn’t happen is all.”

Quill sighed, asking the obvious question. “So you want me to rewrite it, right?”

“Just make it a little more exciting, I don’t know,” Print said, handing him back his story. “You obviously have a creative enough mind. You can do it.”

Quill’s ears perked up. “You really think I have a creative mind,” he asked, half yelling in excitement.

Cringing at the sudden outburst, Print confirmed his statement. “Sure, you do. Now go on and put it to some use.”

Before he left, Quill lunged onto Print and gave him a tight hug. “Thank you, Mr. Print. I promise you won't regret this decision!” And just like that, Quill was out the door again.

While he was gone, Print called over his assistant and asked her if she could prepare a request for a restraining order against Quill sometime in the future.

Four Princesses Fighting A Muffin

Usually the office floor for the “Equestrian Tall Tales” leaflet were abuzz, especially since they were about to start publishing their next issue tomorrow. But today was just a bit different. Today all the ponies who work there quickly ducked under desks, hid behind print presses, or just outright left work. All because not too long ago one of the employees burst through the doors, ranting and raving that “he” was coming. In that moment, the entire floor went awry and became of mess of half finished work and papers strewn about everywhere. Scared and restless, they hid in terror.

Soon enough the doors opened again and a voice came through.

“Hello,” it called out, perplexed at the sudden lack of movement. “Is anypony here?”

No response.

He made his way in, looking and wondering just why the floor seemed so empty. “I’m here for Mr. Print,” he asked. Usually a secretary would have to check to see if said pony was busy, but she seemed to be gone for the moment. “Uhm, I’ll just see myself if he’s in, if anypony can hear this.”

The door to Print's office slowly creaked open, echoing into the seemingly empty room. The pony stepped in, scanning the room. From somewhere, he could faintly hear the subtle tone of whimpering. Investigating more closely, he discovered it was coming from under Mr. Print’s desk.

“Mr. Print, are you under the desk,” the voice asked.

With a groan, Print slowly emerged from his desk, knowing it just couldn’t be possible to hide from this pony.

“Give me a sec,” he said, going to the door and calling out to everypony. “He knows were here. You can come out now.”

Like clockwork, all the ponies who were hiding emerged and went back to work, hoping that this would be the last time they had to do something as ridiculous as that.

Turning back to face the intruder, Print finally got a good look at him.

Short Quill looked completely haggard. His mane and fur were all in ruffles. Bags had formed under his eyes and it seemed he had suddenly grown some unkempt stubble on his chin. He spoke in a ragged way now, dropping all sense that he was fully awake.

“Mr. Print, I finally have it. I finally got the story you wanted.”

“Quill,” Print began, eyeing him up down with shocked eyes. “By the Sun, what happened to you? You look you haven’t slept—”

“Since I left the office, I know,” he finished his thought. “But I know it’ll be worth it when you see this.”

“Since when did you start growing a beard,” Print asked, dumbfounded his sudden existence of one.

“Not important,” Quill said quickly, handing him his newest draft with his magic. “Just please read.”

A very disturbing smile crossed his face as Print carefully reached for the parchment Quill had given him. While he continued to give him the creepy smile, Print began to read his latest insanity.

Four Princesses Fighting a Muffin
by Short Quill

The Four Princesses of Equestria sat in a monster muffin outside of Canterlot Castle while Equesrtria itself lay outside, ablaze in delicious turmoil. As the royal heirs of their once tasty kingdom, they were called for a meeting on how to end the pastry war between the Ice Cream Confederacy and the Cupcake Inquisition. Yet as they sat there in that baked muffin; in that chewy core; below its blue berry heart; at that circular table, their bicker and banter never ended with a conclusion.

“We should have all the Ice Cream attack this muffin as the Cupcakes distract it,” raved the Moon Princess, Luna.

“No, I believe we must merge the Cupcakes and the Ice Creams to form a ‘CupCream’ giant to fight this muffin,” suggested the Sun Princess, Celestia.

“That’s too risky. I say we welcome our new Muffin overlord to Equestria,” pleaded the Princess of Love, Mi Amore Cadenza.

“You’re all not thinking logically. I say we give the muffin books and educate it so that it sees we’re not a threat to its existence,” reasoned the Princess who bore the Magic Element of Harmony, Twilight Sparkle.

Back and forth; round and round; on and on the endless resolutions, suggestions, and bargaining continued amongst the four princesses, all the while the sound of splattering sweets outside grew tastier to them. The muffin itself grew angrier and angrier as sweets splattered against it. It would soon rise up and engulf everything in sight. Sooner or later the princesses would have to make a decision. Otherwise, they will all be eaten by the giant evil snack.

“Enough of this,” Luna yelled, lifting a spoon in her magic. “I say we finally show this muffin who the rightful heirs of Equestria are!”

“Stay your magic, sister,” cautioned Celestia as she lifted a fork with her own magical field, “for I’ll be the one to start this Muffin vs. Pony vs. Cupcakes and Ice Cream front.”

“I do not wish for violence,” pleaded Cadence as she wearily brought out a butter knife, “but it would seem this muffin has to go now.”

“Fine, if this is what all of you want,” Twilight Sparkle stated and floated over a cooking book, “then let’s show this muffin whose boss!”

And so they tore right out of the muffin, cutlery and cooking knowledge at the ready. The great muffin soon sprouted legs and stood up, dwarfing the Canterlot Castle and soon all of Cnaterlot itself. The princesses quickly went to work, slashing and thrashing about at the baked beast. Celestia used her radiant magic to blind the monster. Luna employed hit-and-run tactics, closing in for a swipe, landing, the blow, then quickly ascending to deliver another one. Cadance used her on magic to tie the beast down to the ground as it struggled to break free. Twilight Sparkle read all the knowledge of baking from the cook book, each detail disorientating the muffin’s giant brain.

But soon it began to resist all these attacks and used a magical mind blast spell to force the princesses to the ground. Now it grew arms and began tear apart the castle and began to slowly eat it.

“What do we do,” Twilight asked Celestia.

Pondering for a moment, the Sun Princess soon made her decision. “Call in the royal guard, the Cupcakes, the Ice Creams, everypony to Canterlot at once. This beast must fall today! And we shall assist.”

“My magic is yours, sister,” Luna proclaimed.

“And my compassion,” announced Cadance.

“And my knowledge,” deemed Twilight.

“All for sun and sun for all,” they proudly bellowed to the heavens, and soon ponies and pastries from Manehatten; from Hoofington from Blatimare; from Filly Delphia all flocked to Canterlot at the call of the princesses. United they stood and united they fell upon the evil muffin, tearing it asunder with magic, hooves, wings, and sprinkles.

The monster fought back with ferocity and viciousness unlike which they have ever seen. Battle cries and shouts of encouragement ran back and forth between the fighters.

“Don’t let up, it’s almost down.”

“Keep at it, we will win!”

“Don’t give it a moments rest!”

“I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!”

“This is the most delicious battle I have ever fought in!”

The battle raged on and on until finally the great beast blew up in a shower of blue berries. When the smoke cleared and the populace looked upon Canterlot, they saw that it had become rubble in the ensuing fight. Tears began to shed and hearts were beginning to weep. Then the blue berries that fell from the monster started to sprout magnificent buildings that were made of pure crystal. Soon the once gorgeous view of Canterlot became even more gorgeous by the sight of such a sparkling city.

As it is and as it will be, Canterlot was rebuilt.

The war was over. The pastries were granted citizenship and a seat on the royal council. The city of Canterlot was now named Crystanterlot. And all was right in the world.

Four princesses were fighting a muffin and it changed things for better.

THE END

It was at least half an hour—five minutes of that spent just reading the story—before Print finally looked up from his paper at Quill, who stood there this whole time patiently.

“Quill, this is…” The words could barely come out of his head. The bafflement he felt was astounding. “This… is the greatest thing I have ever read in my life.”

Quill took a moment to register what Print said. “Excuse me?”

“It has over-the-top action, its short, and it ends on a light note. It’s the perfect story for us to use!”

“Really,” Quill squeaked out.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but consider this in the leaflet right now.”

Without a seconds thought, Print yelled out to the rest of the ponies who patiently waited outside his office, anxious over what was happening inside.

“Everypony, I’m gonna need you to work double time to get this story in out next issue. I don’t how you squeeze it in, but just do it. It has to be in there before tomorrow.”

Startled yet understanding of their boss’ excitement, the rushed to see what Quill had written down and quickly set to work writing it into the leaflet.

Print looked back to Quill, a beaming smile on his face. “Quill, my boy, you wanted this story to get recognized across Equestria, and now that wish is sure to be true come tomorrow.”

Quill said nothing, but looked out onto the floor of ponies busily working on getting his story into the leaflet’s latest issue.

The story of Four Princesses Fighting a Muffin was soon on everypony’s muzzle in many parts of Equestria. Ponies living in cities where the leaflet was issued talked and raved about. Then they talked about it some more to ponies traveling out of those cities. Then those traveling ponies told ponies living in other places. Soon, most everypony knew about this tale.

Some called a genius reimagining of the adventure genre.

Others called it a bizarre trip into the mind of a crazy pony, and that they would read it again and again.

Whatever the opinion was, everypony certainly enjoyed it and such a thought boosted the number of readers the “Equestrian Tale Tales” had. Even the princesses themselves would sometimes read it aloud during public events whenever somepony suggested it.

It would seem that this story was an, albeit odd, runaway success.

Yet Short Quill was not happy about it.

In fact, after giving it thought, he despised what the story was. For many, it was a fun and famous little tale, but to him it was a butchery of what he originally wrote. He was so blinded by a chance for fame that he never did consider what he had to give in order to get it. Now he couldn’t care less if the story was successful or not, he just wanted what he had originally written posted in the leaflet on that day. But he knows that no matter how much he wants that, it just won’t happen. All because he had meet a certain standard.

As he lies in bed each night after that infernal story was published, he mutters to his self every night the same phrase.

“I loathe having to make my literary work meet the public’s taste.”