Rainbow Dash got out of the computer chair and offered it to Sunset Shimmer, who smiled as she sat down.
“Sure, Rainbow Dash, I’ll read it.”
Sunset scanned the document, intermittently highlighting and typing as she read, her smile slowly transforming into a look of concern. She grunted and faced Rainbow Dash, who gave a toothy grin.
“Well,” Rainbow Dash said, “what do you think?”
Sunset sighed. “Prism Run?”
“What? Only thing more awesome than me is an OC that ostensibly isn’t me!”
“Of course you would think that.” Sunset sighed and looked back at the computer screen. “Didn’t you say this was based off of a prompt?”
Rainbow Dash nodded. “Yep! Distant Shores was the prompt!”
“I see.” Sunset squeezed her eyes shut. “Well, I suppose it’s connected to the prompt by the barest of threads, seeing how it’s about you—”
“Prism Run.”
Sunset facepalmed. “Sorry, must have been a slip of the tongue. How Prism Run thinks that the ‘Distant Shores’ prompt is dumb and never should have been voted on.” Sunset scrolled through the document again. “And this is for a contest?”
“Yep!”
Sunset bit her cheek. “Why are you even submitting this?”
Rainbow Dash stared at Sunset. “...it’s for a contest.”
“I’m aware it’s for a contest, you just said that.” Sunset Shimmer groaned. “I’m asking why you’re even bothering to submit this for a contest if you think the prompt is dumb.”
Rainbow Dash shook her head. “You must be mistaking me for my OC. I don’t think it’s dumb. Prism—”
Sunset snapped to face Rainbow. “Will you just quit the pretense?” Sunset took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just know that you’re better than this.”
Rainbow Dash hummed. “Better than what? I think a metatextual commentary on contest prompts is an awesome entry.”
Sunset opened her mouth, then closed it. “Look, Rainbow Dash, it’s one thing to be meta. But this,” Sunset said as she waved towards the screen, “isn’t meta. It’s a lazily disguised diatribe against something you personally don’t like.”
“Which technically fits the definition of meta.”
Sunset gritted her teeth. “Yes, I’m aware that it technically fits the definition—anyway, why are you even entering this contest?”
“...it’s a con—”
“I’m aware that it’s a contest!”
“Is everything alright up there?” called a voice from downstairs.
“Yeah, mom,” Rainbow said as she sat on her bed, “everything’s fine! Sunset’s just helping me with some writing I’m doing.”
“That sounds great, honey! Although I don’t think you need any help, you're already an excellent author. I just wish you would publish something real instead of keeping on that Daring Do nonsense!”
Sunset pursed her lips as she stared at Rainbow Dash, whose unwavering grin became a tight-lipped expression. “...sure, mom. I’ll get right on that.”
“Why does your mom care if you write fan fiction or not?” Sunset asked as she looked at the door, then back at Rainbow Dash.
Rainbow Dash motioned her head towards the laptop. “There’s a magazine by the computer. Check out what page it’s opened to.”
“Alright…” Sunset picked up the magazine and read it. “Hm. This appears to be a short story competition for teenagers.”
Rainbow Dash closed her eyes and lay down on the bed. “Read what the first place prize is.”
“It’s… it’s an all expenses paid trip to St. Maretinique for the winner and their family for two weeks, and entries are due in two months.” She looked at Rainbow Dash. “I had no idea you mom was putting such pressure on you.”
“Of course she puts pressure on me, she’s my mom.” Rainbow Dash slammed her fist on the bed. “She thinks I’m better at everything than I actually am.” She stood up and paced around her room. “She thinks I’m good at writing because I can write Daring Do. What she doesn’t realize is that I’m only good at writing Daring Do. So she spots a writing contest where first prize is St. Maretinique so she thinks ‘oh, my daughter can write stuff, maybe she can get us to St. Maretinique’ but she doesn’t say that!” Rainbow Dash clenched her fist. “So she leaves the magazine on my bed—she doesn’t say anything, but I know what she wants because she leaves it open to that page.”
Sunset hummed. “I see. So why don’t you just tell her you can’t do it?”
Rainbow Dash's body snapped to face Sunset. “Because I want to do it! Heck, I’ve always wanted to go to St. Maretinique, but I know I’m not good enough at writing to even have a ghost of a chance where I’m at right now! So I enter these contests in order to push myself to do better. And you know what?”
Sunset frowned. “What, Rainbow Dash?”
“The only way I’ll get better at writing is by writing, even if I don’t have a workable idea, I have to write, even if it’s bad!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed as she grabbed Sunset’s shoulders.
“Listen.” Sunset removed Rainbow’s hands from her shoulders. “I don’t think anyone gets better at writing by writing poorly. You might want to rephrase that.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that.” Rainbow Dash huffed. “The only way I’ll get better at writing is by writing things I don’t want to write about.”
Sunset Shimmer pinched the bridge of her nose. “But that’s exactly what you’re not doing here.”
“What do you mean? I don’t want to write about ‘Distant Shores’, so I enter a contest about writing ‘Distant Shores’. Simple as that.”
“That’s the thing.” Sunset exhaled. “You’re not even writing about the prompt. You’re using the prompt to write about why you—”
“Prism Run.”
Sunset growled. “Why Prism Run thinks it’s a terrible prompt!” Sunset squeezed her eyes shut, inhaled, and exhaled. “Alright, let’s start from square one. Do you actually think it’s a dumb prompt?”
“Well, Prism Run—”
“I’m not asking about Prism Run, I’m asking about you. Do you think the prompt is dumb?”
Rainbow Dash bit her lip. “...no.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Sunset offered a weak grin. “Alright, there’s something you don’t like about ‘Distant Shores’ even though you don’t think it’s a dumb prompt. What is that?”
Rainbow Dash sat down on the bed. “Well, I can’t come up with anything for it. But I have to get better at writing so I can win that trip—”
“Let’s forget about the trip for a second.”
Rainbow Dash looked pleadingly into Sunset’s eyes. “Sunset, that trip means everything to my mom. She’s been talking about how she wanted to go to St. Maretinique ever since I could remember!” Rainbow took shallow breaths. “But she doesn’t work, and my Dad’s a cop, so there’s no way they could afford that trip. I have to win that contest, but I'm not good enough at writing. The only way I can get better is—”
Sunset quieted Rainbow Dash with a wave of her hand. “You keep going back to writing poorly. You obviously didn’t get that from your mom—she seems to be your biggest fan, in fact. So, who’s telling you you’re bad at writing?”
Rainbow Dash looked away. “...everyone on the internet.”
“Now,” Sunset said with a chortle, “I don’t think everyone on the internet is telling you you’re bad at writing.”
“Everyone who’s anyone is.”
Sunset Shimmer paused. “...I see. Show me where they’re saying that.”
“Alright.” Rainbow Dash stood up. “Let me get the chair.”
Sunset stood up and Rainbow Dash took her place. After a few clicks, Sunset leaned in to see what Rainbow Dash was talking about. A wry smile crossed her face as she chuckled softly. “I see what’s going on.”
Rainbow bowed her head. “They’re saying I’m bad at writing.”
“No, no, no.” Sunset shook her head as she stood up. “They’re not saying you’re bad at writing, they’re offering constructive criticism.”
“Which is code for being bad at writing.” Rainbow Dash clenched her fist. “I get it. You don’t have to rub it in.”
Sunset exhaled. “It means you’re good at writing.”
“What do you mean?” Rainbow Dash asked as she looked up at Sunset.
“Let me explain it like this: when you were a child, and you started playing soccer, everyone thought it was great that you were able to kick the ball straight.”
Rainbow Dash grinned. “Yeah, because I’m awesome at soccer.”
“You are, yes.” Sunset nodded. “So, you go to join the soccer team and it’s great. While you’re there, the coach offers suggestions on how to improve your technique.”
“So I can be more awesome. But what does this have to do with my writing?”
Sunset leaned in and scrolled around the screen. “Well, from what I see, these people telling you that you’re bad reads more like how to be better than you are now. You don’t get mad at your coach for telling you how to be better at soccer, so why should you beat yourself up over these people trying to help you get better at writing?”
The gears in Rainbow Dash’s head slowly clicked into place as she took in Sunset’s words. “So… what you’re saying is that they wouldn’t even bother nitpicking if I wasn’t good enough to need these nitpicks.”
Sunset grinned. “Exactly! You’re better than you think you are!”
“So I’m still awesome!” Rainbow Dash said as she clicked the mouse.
Sunset’s beaming face slowly turned neutral. “...did you just submit that story?”
“Yes, I did! I’m going to need the criticism to get my family to St. Maretinique, so I’m going in with both barrels blazing!”
“Uh huh.” Sunset blinked. “And you kept the name Prism Run.”
“No one on the site knows my name is Rainbow Dash,” Rainbow Dash said.
“Probably not.” Sunset put a finger to her mouth. “But your username is RainbowDashIsAwesome.”
“...what? I am. Besides, who would be so self-centered enough to put in their own username that they’re awesome?”
Sunset sat down on Rainbow Dash’s bed and sighed. “I can think of one off the top of my head.”
“Well, then.” Rainbow Dash giggled. “No one else would think I’d be so awesome as to say that I’m awesome in my own username!”
“I don’t think you see what the issue is here. You have a character named Prism Run when your username isRainbowDashIsAwesome. Even if no one thinks you’re arrogant enough to proclaim your ‘awesomeness’ in your own username, I’m pretty sure that they’d put two and two together and assume that RainbowDashIsAwesome wrote a story with a character Prism Run.”
Rainbow Dash looked at the screen, at Sunset, then back at the screen. “...I see what you mean.” She then looked back at Sunset. “What do you suggest I change it to?”
Sunset Shimmer groaned. “I don’t know, how about something like, um… uh… Happy Day?”
“Really?” Rainbow Dash asked as she glared at Sunset. “That’s a dumb name. It doesn’t fit into the Daring Do universe at all.”
“This story isn’t about—”
“This story takes place in the Daring Do universe. It would look weird if I used a name that didn’t fit the accepted nomenclature of the setting I’m writing in.”
Sunset bolted up. “So… you’re writing a Daring Do story… with a prompt of ‘Distant Shores’... that’s about a contest where the prompt is ‘Distant Shores’...”
“—where the author complains about the prompt!”
"...do they even have internet in the Daring Do universe?"
Rainbow Dash shrugged. "They do in my story."
Sunset narrowed her gaze, then threw her hands in the air as she headed towards the door. “I’m done.”
As Sunset closed the door. Rainbow Dash stared at the screen. She still needed a name for the character, and Prism Run was out. She ran through her list of OC names. Chroma Bolt? Variegation Birr? A grin plastered itself across her face as she realized that the Daring Do universe already had a character that would subversively complain about the prompt while writing about the prompt: Daring Do herself.
Rainbow Dash hastily replaced Prism Run with Daring Do and resubmitted the story. She then felt a warmth inside of her as she prepared herself for the onslaught of constructive criticism that she’d receive, each bit bringing her one step closer to becoming a better writer.
St. Maretinique, here I come!
