Chapters Successful Celestial Application Essays
“What do you think is taking the mail so long?”
Spike looks up from his book and at Twilight, she's planted herself by the door in wait.
“It's not even time for the mail yet, we’ve got a good… oh, ten minutes.” Spike shakes his head, turning away from the clock. Twilight's been in the same position for at least the last thirty minutes. That was the last time she took a bathroom break.
“But what if it got lost?” she was referring, of course, to the only letter that was of Importance to her. Her letter of acceptance to Celestia's academy for higher learning.
“Then we'll ask Celestia personally about your acceptance. Then she'll tell you that you really don't have anything to worry about, she'd never deny her prized pupil entry into her school.” Spike says, looking out the window. Knowing Derpy, it wouldn't be such a stretch if the mail got lost. The mail did occasionally get lost, but Derpy was never late. She’s a good worker, just a little confused.
There was a sudden knock on the door and Twilight arrived in an instant.
“Mail’s here!” Derpy cheered, presenting Twilight with a couple of envelopes. Only one had the official seal of Celestia’s Academy for higher learning. Twilight immediately, but gently, tore the letter open and started reading. It wasn’t long before the letter touched the ground, having floated there gently. Spike set down his book and looked at Twilight's shocked face in concern, Derpy even looked concerned.
“Rejected.” Twilight whispered. “I’ve been rejected.” There was a bright flash, Spike looked at the spot Twilight had once been standing in shock. He shook his head vigorously and picked up the letter, surely it said something else. Why would anyone reject Twilight.
“Er… Spike? There’s also a package.” Derpy said, holding out a nondescript package. The only thing of note is that the same seal that adorned the letter was also carefully burnt onto the outside packaging of the box. No doubt painstakingly, and if it’s from the academy then what could it be?
“Thanks, Derpy.” Spike said, taking the package, along with all the mail, before signing for the package.
~
Today was terrible for Twilight. Today was no good to Twilight. Today was absolutely, undoubtedly, insufferably… Stupid!
“Rargh!” Twilight growls angrily, her magic flares briefly. She looks at the tree she’s just torn clear out of the ground before looking at what she’s done. She moves over to the tree in shock and concern for the immobile entity, tears already welling up. Princess Celestia was right, she isn’t ready for her school. Twilight leaned against the uprooted tree and began crying. It didn’t help, it didn’t even make her feel better.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry” She cried, repeating the word endlessly. every succeeding word making her feel worse and worse.
“Hey, Twilight.” her head turns and she finds Spike tentatively walking up to her. She wipes her eyes and smiles miserably.
“Hey, Spike.” she whispers. He takes that as an invitation and comes to sit next to her.
“You know Celestia judges those papers personally?” this does not make Twilight feel better and she turns her head away. “She didn't want to reject you Twilight.”
“I know… I read the letter.” she whispers dejectedly. “She said my essay was uninspiring and basic.” she sniffles sadly at the comment. It had obviously hit a chord. “I don't understand, I followed the formatting perfectly, I told her what I expected to get out of it. I even explained how I always wanted to go there, just like they asked. I told them all about my accomplishments and everything…” she says.
“I think that was the problem…” Spike says thoughtfully.
“following the rules?” she asks incredulously.
“No… well, maybe a bit. You were too by the book” he explains. “The letter also said you should make your essay more personal.” Spike says bluntly. Twilight sniffles a bit, looking down at her hooves.
“The essay is supposed to tell them about me. Now they think I'm boring, uninspired, and bland.” she cries softly.
“Well, the letter also mentioned how early you had your letter in, the due date isn't for a couple more weeks.”
“So? I had my chance and I blew it. I bet Celestia doesn't even want to mentor me anymore!” Twilight says, panic evidently rising.
Ignoring the outburst, Spike continues. “Celestia said that she wants you to submit another essay.” He says, pulling out the letter for emphasis. “She even suggested some reading material to study.” he says pointedly.
“I already read all of our books on essays and followed them to a tee.”
“She didn't really suggest any books.” Spike says, scratching his head thoughtfully. “There was another package that she sent with a bunch of scrolls she thought would help you.”
Twilight perks up slightly at this, “Scrolls?” she asks quietly.
~
“These are them?” Twilight asks, nudging the package lightly. She looks at the scrolls, smelling the slightly dusty parchment, her magic gripping a solitary scroll. She unrolls it and scans it over, her eyes widening in shock.
“This is…” she trails off slowly, looking at the box anxiously, replacing the scroll she currently held with another. “These are essays. Admissions essays.” Twilight mutters, dropping the essay she's holding back into the box. She glances over all the essays hesitantly, chewing her lip anxiously before eventually sighing.
“I suppose these might help me. Celestia believes in me, I might as well try.” she admits, Spike smiles before turning away with a smirk.
“Then I guess you'll be preoccupied with studying those, I'll make some tea for you.” he says nonchalantly, his legs carrying him closer to the kitchen. She nods numbly before looking over the scrolls once more. Tentatively, she grabs the top scroll with her magic and floats it over to her study desk. As an afterthought, she levitates the entire package over to her desk as well and sets them beside it on the floor.
“I won't fail twice.” she mumbles absentmindedly as she settles into her study desk.
Publishing Contretemps
I took a deep breath to steady myself, to steel my nerves for what I was about to do. Confident in my composure, I turned my gaze to the magnificent structure before me. A perfect blend between Gothic and Prench architecture that fit perfectly in it's own niche little corner of Manehattan. Past all the big buildings and stuffy offices lies the premier publishing company in Equestria. I grip a copy of what is hopefully my final draft of my book.
After many revisions I finally had a story I was happy with. A story that told the truth without a sacrifice to the excitement of the story. With one final breath I steadily trotted into the building. It was far emptier than I could have expected. For being such a prestigious establishment there was an incredible lack of presence from within the building. Of course I had only just stepped into the main foyer, anybody with real business to conduct must be sequestered further into the building. After all, that is where I was heading.
The receptionist didn't seem to bat an eye as I walked closer, nor did she seem to take any particular interest in my presence. I informed her of my meeting, to which she finally seemed to acknowledge my presence. She seemed to give me a cautious once over before slowly turning to a small stack of Manila folders. She asked for my name, and once supplied with that information she told me that my meeting was scheduled in room 1107. Rather than provide any sort of direction she simply turned back to her typing, seemingly indifferent towards my dilemma.
I'm a very capable mare, and I've yet to cross a number system I can't crack; so rather than waste my time with bothering the receptionist yet again, I take matters into my own hooves. After a bit of meandering about I find the 1100 hall easily enough, and in turn door number 1107. I take a second to garner enough determination, ready to prove my worth. I knock gently, hearing an expectant response. With only a moment's hesitation I find myself shuffling into the room delicately.
The publisher greets me and immediately pulls out her copy of my story, not wasting time with semantics. She gives me praise and for a moment I feel admiration, but she quickly follows up with all the things she found wrong with my book. A brief summation of her description would go along the lines of “Generic adventure with a generic adventurer that has no real character development. The tale seems trite and cliche, with the main character seeming unrelatable and overly competent.”
I was more than a little upset, mostly because the story was based off real events I had faced. For such a major event in my life to be called “trite and cliche,” I didn't react well. In turn I was forced to vacate the premises with both copies of my story, my hopes dashed. It wasn't long before I would go at it again with another publisher after even more revisions. Thus was my battle to publish my first, and arguably most successful book.
~
Twilight sat back in her chair, a bit confused as to what she had just read. Confused for a couple reasons. The biggest being the formatting. This essay wasn't even MLA formatted, it was presented more like a story than anything.
Reading the story again, Twilight began to take notes. Scrounging together in her mind what she knew an admissions essay had to be and finally considering her idea of an admissions essay.
~
Analysis
Yearling’s essay highlights her major accomplishments, her writing, with an air of humility. This approach shows not only her character, but projects herself with attractive modesty. Showing her early struggles while only glancing over her eventual success shows that the message tends not towards the end goal, but the adversity faced on the way there.
Her essay is a relatable tale about trying in the face of continued failure. Using first person she puts you in her place, making her trials and tribulations personal. This is made easier by the fact that success was not immediate, a fact many can attest to.
There were problems with pacing, wherein the first half of the essay is building up to actually meeting the publisher. The description of the style of architecture could be a nice insight into Yearlings history with architecture, but seems out of place in an anecdote about writing. The beginning isn't very intriguing and doesn't invite me to want to read the rest of the story, even if the story as a whole is insightful.
A Lesson in Grace
There’s no thrill quite like that of flying, especially that of flying fast. Racing seems to be the perfect place for such an activity, but it requires more than speed. A fact I became painfully aware of in my formative years, but it was a fact I’m thankful I learned when I did.
As all young mares eager to make something of themselves, usually a fool, I was very eager to show ponies what I was really made of. I was fast, really fast. Fastest flier at my private flight academy, a title I was eager to expand the range on. Races in Cloudsdale were held often, seeing as the prestige of the races brought out all the best fliers. Sometimes the Princess herself even attended some, nothing boosts attendance to an event like royal interest.
Being the cocky mare I was, I felt extremely confident about the competition. I had entered and had been training hard to make sure I was ready for the competition. It wasn't the best young fliers competition, but a straight up race. As such, I only trained for the sheer speed I would need to win.
As the date of the competition came closer I felt readier than ever, after all I was finally going to show the princesses themselves my mettle. I was the fastest there, and everyone knew it. That wasn't just me being cocky, I had flown against most ponies there. Within Cloudsdale I held a special sort of local fame.
Of course, if it was an easy win I would never have learned my lesson. There was one pony I had never seen before, a pegasus from Canterlot. She was gorgeous, suffice to say that my younger self sorely underestimated her. Like most other gorgeous ponies, I assumed she was a prissy Canterlot pony like all the others. Was I wrong.
When the race finally started she seemed to be doing better than I had expected, quickly taking second place behind me. However, as I expected she was slower than I was. One thing to mention about a Cloudsdale race is that the tracks are always complicated, with enough turns and loops to give anyone a hard time. As I took my first turn of many I found myself faced with a frightening problem. The Canterlot pony had gotten closer after the turn.
Every turn I would bank hard, sacrificing speed for maneuverability. The Pegasus pony got closer and closer, until she passed me. I was angry, but I was determined. As the next turn came up I saw what she had done that had allowed her to pass me. She gracefully turned every corner, barely losing any speed at the turns, where I had been losing too much speed at each turn. It was too late though, I was faster, but she was smoother. Even with my speed I couldn't pass her before the finish line.
That failure was a strong hit to my pride, but I took it in stride. I took a page from her book and handled the loss with grace. A race isn't always about who's the fastest, but who's the most graceful. Looking at the princess, you think it would be obvious.
~
Analysis
Spitfire touches upon a major point of learning in her life, which happens to be a failure. Sometimes our failures shape us more than our accomplishments, which is a nice approach to the moral. The moral showing fruition in her choice of topic. The essay does an adequate job in showing the change from adolescence into adulthood as well. Showing the maturity without sacrificing her roots.
The vocabulary could be broader, but is acceptably minimal. It’s easy to get lost in the dynamics of how racing may work, and a simplistic approach is one that any pony can understand. This does present the approach to audience. Spitfire writes in such a way that not only is everypony her audience, but with expectations that everyone should be.
The essay itself was written in such a way that's believably Spitfire. It talks about flying realistically and intimately. As well as talking about speed in a shameless and acceptably boisterous tone, all without getting lost in arrogance. All around, there could have been more elaboration upon the Canterlot Pegasus, or on the race. However, the general vague nature offers a somewhat more broad lesson than any specific race or Pegasus could have. Spitfires essay is one not many may be able to relate to but it is nevertheless an important one.
Kintsugi
Neighpon is an interesting place with an even more intriguing culture. Being a very culturally open-minded pony, I love to look at cultures from all over the world for inspiration. Fashion is usually my focus, but you can find inspiration from unlikely places. Possibly the most influential Neighponese influence in my life is the curious practice of Kintsugi, a practice that not only gave me inspiration, but also a life lesson.
I’m sure many ponies are familiar with drowning themselves in work to get through sadness. After an especially devastating heartbreak I had worked myself into a creative rut, which only made my sadness more consuming. I had been looking into Neighpon culture for inspiration towards my spring line for the coming year. I only had a handful of weeks left to finish the design phase of my dress work and the days were getting shorter as winter snuck closer and closer.
The sadness was palpable and very tiring, unable to shake the feeling off I grew weary. The world seemed to be working against me, with my life falling apart as I sulked. Tea was my only solace, so wearily I made my way into the kitchen. After a grueling wait the kettle started to whistle, at which point I extracted it from the stove top. Filling a dainty teacup I began to raise it up shakily, only to carelessly burn my lip. The burn wasn’t painful, but shocking. I could only stare in abject horror as the cup fell and broke, two large pieces coming off the cup.
My expression turned dour as my depression peaked, it seemed the world was against me. It had been one of my favorite cups, and just like my heart it had shattered. All that beauty, it’s fragility had been it’s downfall. I scoffed as I looked upon the poor sight, disdain towards myself outweighing my sadness as tears streaked down my face. Despite myself, I carefully scooped up the pieces, holding them gently in my forelegs. Surely this wasn’t how it ended? After all, Cups could be fixed. Looking around quickly for a solution, even just some glue could help. It was then that my gaze fell upon the Neighpon magazine.
Across the front was pottery, as it was a lifestyle magazine rather than a fashion magazine. I immediately remembered Kintsugi, the pottery technique. Hope swelled in my breast at the thought, Kintsugi was the practice of taking broken pottery and repairing it with gold, platinum, or silver, making the pottery even more beautiful than before. I had no silver or gold, but there was a pony in town that I could obtain some from easily. As hope towards the repair of my cup rose I set it down gently to be dealt with later, walking over to the mannequin housing one of my dresses.
Just like that cup, my life could be dealt with similarly. Even if it’s falling apart, I can still repair it and maybe even make it more beautiful than before. With this knowledge in mind I took the dress firmly in my hooves and tore it apart, the tear quickly becoming an eyesore. I tore it again and then once more before carefully turning away to grab some thread. Looking back at the dress, gold thread in hoof, I got to work on my new spring line, threading beautiful cherry blossoms along the tears.
~
Analysis
Raritys essay is one of overcoming sadness, as well as finding inspiration. This lesson would resonate with many ponies, seeing as the concept of staying determined is an important one. For a pony who has personally stood by me in the face of adversity, I can tell you it's a lesson that was truly taken to heart. The piece rings with a piercing innocence, that of a pony so susceptible to circumstance. Whether this is seen as a good thing, highlighting a pureness of heart, or revealing a weakness, the tone is there.
There is a strong introduction with the acknowledgement of the concept that is the focus of the paper, while leaving enough intrigue and mystery to warrant further reading. The paper opens up showing a wide variety of interests, hinting at an inviting personality. A pony at peace with and seeking change. This is humbled by the reason for the topic, a situation most ponies know well. Heartbreak is an uncomfortable topic for many, but this one is approached with an uplifting tone.
While a little typical, with the world seemingly at the writers throat, it’s a well aimed attack towards your sympathy. The cup serves as an adequate proxy for the speaker, making the climax prominent. The speakers nurturement of the cup is a nice nod towards her consoling of herself. The imagery is somewhat broken as the last chapter directly mentions the connection, which could have definitely be worked better. However the ending strongly resonates with passion as she is willing to tear apart her creation with the faith that everything will be okay.
The second mentioning of the pottery technique seems quick and cliched, but was more than likely as it was in life. Regardless, the way it was stated could be worked upon. Beside that small hiccup pacing was nice, not lingering on unimportant topics too much while lingering long enough on important ones. There definitely could have been a nicer way to work in the definition of Kintsugi, but the definition itself was adequate for the lesson it presented.