Quick Quill's Awful Editing Experience
It was a fine noon day in the small hamlet of Canterburgh. Peace had returned to the little town after the news of the defeat of the dreaded Theronicus Rex reached them. Now, the townsponies felt they could live their lives as they had once before.
The ponies all resumed their lives as normal, trying to pick up the pieces since Rex had ravaged their town. Almost literally, since the monstrous draft horse had broken through walls and destroyed public structures in an effort to foalnap whoever he could get his hooves on.
Buildings were rebuilt, merchandise was restocked, mailboxes were repaired, benches were re-affixed to the ground. Most of all, the ponies all tried to forget the terrible tragedy that had befallen their town. But, in one home, there was one mare who was trying to make sure such things were never forgotten.
If one listened very closely, one could have heard the sounds of an inked quill quickly scratching across the surface of paper. A skillful, artful scratching that was the sure sign of a master author at work. If one followed the noise, they would find themselves in the home of Canterburgh's resident novelist: a mare named Quick Quill. This is where we begin our story.
In the upper floor of a small two story home, at a small writing desk of ash wood, on a chair of polished yew sat a cinnamon brown earth pony mare with a mane of red. In her teeth, she held onto the end of a quill made from the feather of a hawk.
Currently, she was busy at work with her newest tale. The story of The Goof Knight and his quest to free Trottingham from an evil king in order to rescue his son. Of course, certain artistic liberties were taken to raise the spirits of the readers in those dark times, but the spirit of the story remained exactly true.
Quill dipped her quill into her ink pot one last time, then scribbled the last two sentences, before writing the closing statement.
"The...End..." Quill said quietly through her teeth, as she wrote the two words.
That was it. The adventures of The Goof Knight and his companions in Trottingham was finished.
Quick Quill placed her quill in its sconce, placed the final page aside for the ink to dry, then looked over her manuscript. It was only a short story that she had written for a magazine publication, but a good one, she thought. Every page, she carefully looked over, making sure every detail was just the way she wanted it to be. Every word was to capture the feeling of a scene. Every detail was made to convey a feeling that would drag the reader into the story. Every line of dialogue was scrutinized for characterization and made sure it was not followed by a non-sequitur. Every misspelled word and missed punctuation was checked, rechecked, rechecked again and corrected.
Quill couldn't help but be proud of herself. For her years as a writer she had mainly written romance stories, but this foray into the adventure genre was a welcome challenge that she felt she had successfully accomplished.
With a small smile, she picked up her quill, dipped it in her ink pot and quickly jotted down a title on the front page. One that she didn't even need to think about for a moment. Inspiration had struck her the moment she and The Goof Knight parted ways, and knew precisely what title would capture the name of the adventure.
"The Goof Knight...in the...Kingdom...of...Champions...by...Quick Quill," Quick Quill quietly said to herself as she jotted down the title. Oh! But, she had almost forgotten one thing.
She signed her name at the bottom of the manuscript, placed her quill back in its sconce, and corked her bottle of ink.
That was it. Her newest story that had taken her out of her comfort zone and into a new literary territory. Who knew? If she heard any more tales about her new friends, she might just make another story featuring The Goof Knight.
"Right. Brilliant," Quill said to herself, before she fanned the title page with her tail to dry the ink more quickly.
The ink on the final page had dried, and she was able to place it on the bottom of the stack of pages. Now, everything was ready to mail to her publisher.
With a light-hearted feeling, Quick Quill placed her manuscript into a manila envelope, already addressed and stamped, sealed it, and placed it into a simple brown saddlebag.
She was now ready to send off her latest work, before beginning her next story. With a spring in her step, she stood up from her chair, walked two steps from her desk and hopped through the hole in the floor to the room below. Her house had not yet been repaired since Rex came to town, but it added a little extra fun when it came to leaving her writing room.
Now in her very small parlour, Quick Quill was able to make a beeline right for her front door. She opened the door to the sunlit scenery of the town she called home, and began her walk to the mailbox in the middle of town.
Quick quill steps out of her house to go towards the mailbox, which is far away.
"Sorry. What was that just now?" Quick Quill wondered.
She is fast to walk, but gets there in time to deliver mail.
"Come on. How did I get here so fast? And why did that say I got to the mailbox in time? I'm well within my deadline for this project. And what the bloody hayseeds is happening to the narration?" Quill said aloud.
"Hey! Quick Quill," a voice calls out.
"Whose voice?" Quill wondered.
A stallion that looks like he has blue fur and darker blue manes runs up to quick quill. Quill thinks he is very hadsome and tired looking.
"Where had you been? I looked all over for you," the stallion said.
"I'm sorry. What were you doing looking for me?" Quill asked, confused and slightly afraid.
"Don't you know that I need your help because your so good at helping me all the time," the stallion said.
"Hang on. First of all, what you said made absolutely no sense. Secondly, I don't know you from a day in my life. We have no prior established relationship. And now, you want me to help you with some problem you haven't told me the nature of, and you expect me to automatically help you? That's not how things work," Quill said.
"Man, I knew you wanted to help me," the stallion says.
"That's not what I said at all. And I have no interest in getting involved in your ridiculous charade. Good day to you," Quick Quill said, before she turned to take her leave.
Qiuck Qiull leaves to her home as the stallion walks with her.
"But were also friends, Quill I thought you helped me when I asked' the stallion said grabbing Quills hoof.
"Don't touch me, you creep!" Quill practically shrieked, as she punched the stallion out cold. "This has been a very, very unusual day. I don't know what magic is at work here, but I'm not going to leave my home until this whole mess blows over."
quick quill and the stallion left town to go to the harbor--
"No! Absolutely not! There's no way in Tartarus I'm going to any harbor, considering the province I live in is landlocked!" Quick Quill said.
--the harbor is a foggy place where sailors are walking around. Here, Quick Quil and her boyfriend walk around until they get on an airship.
"No!!! I'm not going to any harbor!! You can't--" Quick Quill looked around herself, and was dismayed to find that she was already at the harbor, then in an unspecified room on an airship. "--make me..." Quill sighed.
"And your happy to be here with your boyfriend," the blue stallion said.
Quill sighs in anger. She doesn't know what is happening, but she starts to look at the stallion with love in her face--
"Alright, that's enough out of you!!" Quill shouted at the narration, before turning her attention to the blue stallion. "You! I don't know who you are, or what you're doing here! But, you are not my coltfriend! I have no desire to spend any more time with you! And I absolutely, positively, undeniably do not find you to be 'hadsome!' I want this madness to end!!"
"Come on. Our flight's beginning to go. We can see whos siging on the stage," the stallion said.
"That's not what I said to you! Do you have any idea how dialogue works!? Do you have the slightest grasp of how to have a conversation with an actual thinking creature!!? Can you even hear me right now!? CAN YOU BLOODY HEAR ME!!?" Quick Quill shouted in the stallion's ear.
The stallion speaks, but Quick Quill puts her hoof in his mouth.
"Forget it. I don't want to hear anything else that comes out of your stupid mouth," Quill sighed.
Then the ship shakes a lot. it is scary for Quick, but she is able to stand on her feet. The ship has been crashed by captain Calaenos ship, and the pirates are coming onto the ship.
"Who!? Who's this character supposed to be!? And why has she suddenly appeared in this sorry excuse of a story!? And why is the narration so terrible!!? It looks like a dictionary was eaten with a fork and a knife, vomited onto a sheet of paper, and the words arranged with the writer's face!!!? And why am I the only one aware of it!!?" Quick Quill shouted.
"Get all the valuable things here. I'll have my attention on the gold," Caleno said to her pirates.
"And our ship's tough too. We won't sink with our gold," one pirate said.
Quick quill is annoyed again.
"Why? Those two may as well have been talking to each other while they were facing walls at opposite ends of a room," Quill sighed. "Honestly. What lousy fan fiction author's pages did this whole concept congeal from? But, at least it seems this author forgot that stupid blue stallion existed."
~~All this is crazy and has lots of noises. fluttershy who was riding with Rainbow Dash were there and comes to stop the problems with the pirates.~~
"Alright! That's enough! I know Rainbow Dash personally, and she's off on some magical quest right now. She definitely has no business appearing here at this point! I think it's plain to see that I'm going to have to fix this mess myself! And I'm going to make sure that readers know I did it!" Quill said. Careful not to make another paragraph, as she knew doing so would put things back into control of the abhorrent narrator, Quick Quill borrowed a few words from the beginning of the story. Namely, she copied and pasted the sentence, 'In her teeth, she held onto the end of a quill made from the feather of a hawk.' Next, she copied and pasted 'ink pot.' Now, she was ready to make everything right.
[Please excuse our heroine, as she fixes this story from the moment she stepped out of her own flat]
Quick Quill stepped out of her house, and began her walk toward the mailbox in the middle of town. For such a short walk in such a small town, it felt like a long walk through a pleasant meadow, now that everything had been set right.
There it was. On the path before her, Quick Quill was never so relieved to see the blue mailbox in front of the post office.
When she reached the mailbox, she opened the front and cautiously looked around. There was no sight of any strange stallions rushing up to whisk her away on a nonsensical escapade. Feeling a growing sense of relief, she reached her muzzle into her saddlebag, produced the manuscript in its envelope and dropped it into the mailbox.
"There. Done and done," Quill said with a satisfied sigh.
This was the part of the day where she would normally begin work on her next project. But, her muse was feeling rather worn down at the moment. Now, she needed to wind down. And a trip to Green Leaf's tea shop would be just the ticket.
The tea shop was one street away from the post office, making the trip refreshingly short for the novelist. From the moment she stepped in, she was ensconced by the fragrance of dry leaves and the gentle sounds of boiling water.
"Quick Quill. You're here a bit early. I don't normally see you 'fore half-six," said the stallion who was behind the tea shop's counter.
"I know. But, I just really need a place to relax now. I just finished editing a story by an irritatingly incompetent writer, who clearly has no business writing anything. In the end, I had to practically write the whole story for them," Quill answered.
"I didn't realize you was taking commissions for editing, luv," the stallion said, as he put together a cup of tea.
"Yes. Although now, I'm having serious doubts about ever taking any again."
"Too right. Authors like them tend to cling on to a better one like a nasty little parasite."
Quill shuddered at the thought. If she had to keep doing this forever, she may as well have given up on the career she loved so much.
"You know, speaking of stories: a funny thing happened on me way to work today. Wanna hear it?" the stallion said.
"As long as you don't want me telling it for you, I'm all ears," Quill joked.
Author's Note
Hey there, my beloved readers. And welcome to my very first one-shot story.
Have any of you ever read a very poorly written story? Of course you have. How about written one? I think everyone has. I myself am in the process of rewriting a few chapters of a story I'm writing, because after a review I found they were not up to my own (admittedly haphazard) standards. But, have any of you edited for a very bad story?
For about five or six months now, I've been doing editing work on stories by truly untalented writers. Some of them have improved their skills since then, but others have not. I won't say who, because I don't want to go implicating others.
For all that time editing, I was wondering how the characters would feel if they knew they were in such a poorly written story. Especially Twilight, since she's the literate bookworm of her group of friends.
However, a certain fancy struck me, and I used a character from a story that I had already written. A novelist who had her hoof in freeing Trottingham from a tyrannical ruler. I guess it's because I wanted to know how Quick Quill's life turned out after her story ended.
After just that little bit of inspiration, I thought it would be funny to write a story where a character like Quill was in a story like this one.
That's all for this. Now, rock on back to our regularly scheduled program \m/
