Stardust Tries Really Really Hard to Write a Story...
and He's Not Having Much Luck With It...
The bright early morning sun was beginning its ascent over the sprawling metropolis known as Manehattan. A bright orange glow radiated across the entire city, signaling both the end of a day for its nocturnal denizens, and the start of a brand new day for the rest of its citizens. I was one of those nocturnal denizens, and as much as I loved the night, the early morning sunrise was truly a magical sight that acted as the perfect ending to most any day. Being out this early also had the added benefit of giving me a nice quiet walk home away from anyone who might laugh or ask about my usual workday attire.
The large apartment high rise that served as my hood slowly grew closer, and with it so did my longing for my nice warm bed… but I had plans for this morning, plans that would push my bedtime back a little bit. The trip through my apartment's lobby was as quiet as it always was, except for the small nibble of conversation I’d get from the pony at the front desk.
“Mornin’ Stardust, have a nice day at work?”
I nodded my head and smiled at the older stallion. “Sure did, Bright Morning. Lots of the same old stuff though, so I’m ready for a nice relaxing morning.”
He returned a smile of his own. “Well that’s good. Don’t let me keep you then, I’m sure you’re ready for a nice rest.”
“Oh believe me, I am.” I let out a long drawn out yawn and glanced over to the large clock that sat above the desk. “Hope you have a nice day, I might have a new draft of my project for you to look at later if I catch you before you clock out.”
Bright Morning was more than just a regular old acquaintance. As it turned out we shared a surprisingly similar set of hobbies, and the stallion would regularly offer advice and critique on my ongoing projects, which was very much welcomed.
The elevator ride up to my floor was thankfully short, and before long I was nearing the familiar blue door that marked my humble abode. I popped my neck as I trotted through the door of my Manehattan apartment and tossed my saddlebag off to the little table by the door. It was always at this point where the exhaustion would set in the most and hit me like the ponyville express on Hearthswarming Eve. I let out another long series of yawns and almost considered calling it quits right there— the plush carpet wasn’t the worst place to take a nap at after all, but no, I needed to change and eat first. Work had been much the same as it always was; long, boring, and even a little stressful… but at least it was all over now and I could get back to my favorite hobby…
Writing!
That’s right, I love to write on the side. I wouldn’t ever say I’m a professional, or that people are chomping at the bit to see what I’ve written, but I love doing it all the same. It’s that special kind of hobby that just doesn’t feel like actual work, and I don’t know, there’s just something about crafting this little world with it’s little characters and using your imagination to go on some random adventure there. I mean I’ve done this plenty of times, and it still never fails to brighten my day.
Shaking my head, I trotted towards my room and kicked on the lights. Right away I was greeted with a reflection of myself in the full length mirror that sat against one of the dark blue walls. A dark blue bat pony with a purple mane dressed in a maid’s dress stared back at me, making me chuckle as I took in the completely unusual sight. Well, I say unusual, but this had become pretty usual to me in the more recent parts of my life. I mean I’m sure you’ve already heard the convoluted tale of why I work as a maid, right? Nevertheless it’s a weird situation, and still feels weird to me sometimes, but what’s a bat down on his luck to do?
… That’s right, take whatever he can get even if it means having to dress in a mare’s dress for work every day. I mean hey, at least it beats the alternative of working in the very unpleasant sewer that I was given. Plus, not to mention the fact that I totally rocked this outfit… even if it wasn’t the usual ensemble I’d see myself wearing. But you know what? I could put up with it in the meantime… it wasn’t supposed to be my permanent job after all.
I had worked this very unusual job for a good six months now, and as short of a time as that was, I couldn’t help but think ahead. Even though it was still a little embarrassing to walk around town in the outfit or have to explain what I actually did for a living, I still enjoyed the job to a degree. Sure the work was… well, work, and the hours cut into my favorite time of the day. But I liked my coworkers and even liked my boss, but that still didn’t keep the occasional barrage of stress and anxiety at bay. That was the reality of any job though, and even though I liked my job I still had greater aspirations in life than just being an odd fitting maid in an upscale mansion.
That’s really where my hobby came into play the most on days like this. Like I said before, I was never going to be a professional writer (not that I really wanted to do that anyways), but writing gave me a chance to unwind before bed, and in some cases gave me a really good conversation starter that wasn’t just “oh hey what’s with the dress?” when I’d make my weekly excursions to the Manehattan public library or when I’d go visit the park with my closest friends. I figured that networking was always good, even if it was with a bunch of random writers. I mean I had to make new friends somehow right?
Those conversations probably wouldn’t get me a new job anytime soon, but what they did get me was a surprising in at the local university… or at least it got me in contact with a professor or two there. Admittedly I never thought about going into teaching, but with my hobby and my newfound friends, the idea seemed appealing.
What would I teach? Who knows. That was a problem to tackle on another day, and right now more than anything else I just needed to relax and take it easy.
Turning away from the mirror, I made for my closet and carefully slipped out of the dress. It had taken a lot of trial and error to get to the point where I could do this with ease, but hey, a few months of practice makes perfect. Looking down at the pink and black socks I was wearing, I briefly considered pulling them off as well, but I stopped myself. I was trying to unwind from work right? So that meant getting comfy, and as much as they clashed with my normal coat color, they were comfy enough so I decided to keep them on.
Trotting over towards my kitchen, I rummaged through the fridge in search of something to sate my appetite. It had been a particularly busy night and that had made me a very hungry bat, and as much as I probably needed to cut back on my tropical fruit consumption… today was not going to be that day. An assortment of mangos, pineapples, and oranges in hoof, I kicked the fridge shut and trotted towards my desk, depositing my collection into their usual bowl.
What to write, what to write… I thought to myself as I nibbled away at some of the pineapple.
Glancing down at my many scattered manuscripts, ideas started to flow into my head. I could write out my romance story… no, that needed some polishing first. Maybe the space pirate story? Hmm… no, that needed some more work under the hood too. I had neglected it for a fairly long time now and was starting to feel bad. It wasn’t my best work by any stretch of the imagination, but it had a few fans, and was something that I started long ago and really needed to clean up. I wracked my brain trying to think of any idea that could work, that wouldn’t take an entire day to do… but despite my efforts, nothing was coming to mind.
I stopped and took a deep breath, tapping my hoof on the light wooden desk as my thoughts jumped back to the new writer friends I had made. They all had their own vast libraries of content and mine was… kind of lacking to say the least. I mean hell, they were all so talented, and some could even whip out stories like they were nothing at all, and here I was… trying to come up with one good idea.
Was this a futile effort? Was I just not cut out to be a writer? Should I instead just go find something else to entirely?
No, damn it Stardust! You’re better than this. I mentally berated myself. My friends might have had a knack for coming up with brand new content on the fly, but that didn’t mean they were better than me. I just needed an idea, something new that I could roll with that would be a fun little side adventure in the grand scheme of my writing.
I stood up from the small plush cushion I was sitting on and trotted towards the small adjacent window. Pushing it open, I took in a breath of fresh morning air and sighed. Sitting down and being creative was a lot harder than it seemed. I looked back into my room and over to my soft, comfortable bed and briefly considered just calling it a day right there and then… but then an idea popped into my mind.
I don’t know if it was a good idea… but it was an idea, and it was more than what I had at the moment. Racing back towards my small wooden desk I began to feverishly jot down my ideas and couldn’t help but laugh at the horribly meta creation that my poor tired, probably overworked brain had concocted.
What if I could take my frustration and annoyance and channel it into a story in itself? What if I wrote about what I was feeling in the current moment? They say that the best stories come from the heart right?
Well what if I wrote a story about wanting to write a story but not having any idea of what to write… so I write a story about writing that story?…
Would you read it?
