It was a glorious day in Ponyville, or at least it had been. No monster attacks, no magical misfires, no new villain seeking power and glory for themselves. Just ponies going about their lives as they always had – at least before a certain purple pony moved in and became an alicorn, that is.
But none of that concerned Twilight. As Celestia’s sun set off in the distance and the sky tinged orange with the encroaching evening, she found herself busy. Not with anything physical within her hoof’s reach, mind you, but internally – inside her mind.
Twilight passed Spike at the kitchen – the young dragon had prepared himself a gemstone sandwich. It was tasty in theory, but when put into practice proved to be quite messy – bread was not a suitable container for small, loose things like gemstones. That unfortunately meant Spike was constantly having to pick up parts of his lost meal.
Unfortunate for Spike, perhaps, but it was a knock on the door from opportunity for Twilight. He had his meal, and she could always make something herself later. Most importantly: it meant Spike was occupied, and she had time to herself.
Twilight wasn’t selfish, of course. She was the Princess of Friendship after all. And it’s not that she disliked Spike or anypony else, but even a Princess of Friendship needed their alone time. And this was it!
She made her way into her study, across the hall from the library. If anyone else had come across it, they would have never known it to be Twilight’s study at all – the few shelves in the room were barren of any sort of books. It should’ve been a blasphemy for a bookworm such as Twilight.
Instead, they contained stacks of rolled paper, bottles of ink, and a nearly endless assortment of feather quill pens. A few plants sat on top of the shelf under one of the two windows in the small room. Under the other window, currently shielded by a curtain, was an ornate wooden desk. It was big, spacious, and even had its own ink pot holder, with a quill dipped in it at the ready.
When the castle had been made all that time ago, Twilight wondered if it had secretly read her mind.
Whereas the library was her vault of knowledge, her temple of learning, this was her most private sanctuary. Any learning done in here was not brought about by books, but by physical struggle. Any knowledge that stepped through its entryway was from her own mind alone.
This, was a place of creation!
Twilight trotted over to the desk and plopped down in the comfy cushioned stool that sat in front of it. Using her magic, she adjusted the stool to the right height, plucked up her quill pen, and levitated over a roll of parchment.
Blank parchment, which, next to only a book’s pages, was her absolute favorite kind.
She unrolled it across the desk, using her magic to hold it spread out in place. Rolled parchment’s one drawback was related to one of Fig Newton’s Laws of Motion: an object at rest tended to stay at rest. And rolled parchment tended to like rolling back up.
With her blank foe at her mercy, her inked sword ready to hack and slash, and ample time to make her attack prolonged and merciless, next came the most strenuous of steps – what to write.
Some might consider Nightmare Moon as Twilight’s greatest foe. Or perhaps Chrysalis or Tirek. But Nightmare Moon could not out-vex, Chrysalis could not out-perplex, and Tirek could not out-suplex the demon that was… writer’s block.
Twilight could not count how long nor how many times it had held her up at such moments like this. She enjoyed writing as much as she did her reading, but reading was learning, and writing was practice. Reading had strained eyes and sore shoulders, while writing had writer’s block.
So she began to set her priorities straight: Twilight wanted to write something, she was feeling particularly creative. Now… what to write?
She skimmed her mind for any theses she had read about, anything she might be able to critique from some scholar somewhere. Igniting her passion of knowledge was one way to start a fire under her writing process.
Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. The scholars nowadays seemed more and more behaved in their practice – there was simply nothing to critique them on without the proverbial equivalent of slinging mud. And she certainly wasn’t that kind of pony.
With the notion of knowledge out of the way, Twilight moved onto more fantastical subjects. She enjoyed reading fiction as well as fact, and fiction in itself was always tickling her brain with new ideas. Something she could try out, whether it be a setting, a type of character, or even just a genre, or perhaps a correction she could write herself to amend a personal woe she had found in a favorite story – though she was getting out of that phase more and more these days. There was always fanfiction, which in its very essence was fiction itself.
Fiction it was, her mind decided, and she agreed along with it with a hearty nod. Now that classification was out of the way, it was time to figure out just what to write.
This was where writer’s block was at its most diabolical. Her train of thought was always prone to being derailed by the fiendish saboteur, and it was a lengthy process getting it back on track.
Its first curve ball was always distractions. A peek out the window, the idea of scanning through a book for ideas, even music that normally helped move her pen across the pages. Twilight had decided to thwart the demon the only way she knew how: by removing any distractions she could from her creative workspace. She still needed some inspiration, so a few things were allowed to remain, but not much.
For the most part, it seemed to work. Her writing (whenever she got around to it) went by much faster, especially once she had really sank her teeth into an idea.
The next curve ball was always impossible to avoid, and instead was more like a large boulder she had to chip her way through: the wheels on her train of thought spinning as if caught on ice. And it was always so hard to find a bag of sand anywhere.
So Twilight got up from her stool, setting her quill pen back into the ink, and began pacing the room. Movement tended to work like a cascading line of dominoes – if she got to moving, it would eventually push her mind past the slick patch of ice.
She could write… well, obviously she could, but that was beside the point. She could write… romance maybe? She’d been getting more and more invested in that topic recently. Surely she could make a fluffy, cuddly scene, just something with two ponies cuddling. Maybe even three! Those were always her favorite.
Twilight could almost hear the writer’s block snickering. She had her scene, she had what she wanted to do… but she lacked actors for such a stage. Self-insert? No, that’d be awkward to her current dating life. She’d need a fictional character then. Daring Do leapt to the forefront of her mind like the daring adventurer that she was, but that too was a canon character – one lacking love interests real or fake.
The Daring Do fanfiction would have to wait for another day.
…Or did it? How about a daring adventure? Twilight nodded enthusiastically, plucking one of the spare quills up in her magic and waving it like a sword. Daring Do could most certainly star in one of those!
Writer’s block’s response was more contained, more composed – though there was still an infuriating chuckle or two that leaked out. Daring Do was fine, and she had her villains… but now there was no stage for the actors. She’d have to come up with a whole, convoluted conspiracy for her to unravel – and preferably one that went along with the Daring Do canon!
Twilight shook her head. No, the Daring Do fanfiction would have to wait. She decided to focus on another adventurer – a wizard, she concluded, on a noble quest to help his kingdom! Certainly not like Starswirl or anything – though she was keeping the beard and the bells.
Twilight replaced the quill pen back in its spot on the shelf, instead pulling out a roll of parchment paper. She waved it like a wand, seeing as it was far too short to serve as a staff. Perhaps to stop some foul demon who threatened the peace?
Twilight grinned and nodded again, rushing back to the blank parchment, tossing the roll aside in favor of her trusty inked quill. She grinned as she hovered it over the page – which slowly sank into a frown as she pulled the quill away.
Details, she quickly realized, she was lacking details. She could make her wizard, but he needed a name. She could make his kingdom, but it needed a name, along with several other things that made a kingdom a kingdom. And that wasn’t even talking about the demon!
With a frustrated growl-roar, Twilight tossed the quill pen aside. It splattered the wall with black blots of ink – joining many other, older stains. She flopped onto the desk, burying her face in her forelegs as the parchment, now free from her magic, rolled back in around her as if to give her a hug.
Twilight let out a huff as she tried to get her mind to work again – only for her ear to flick in the direction of some giggling and chuckling, both of which were very real. She quickly sat up and turned to the doorway, the parchment rolling up the rest of the way behind her.
Pinkie and Rarity stood at the doorway, the former giggling up a storm unabashed while the latter tried to maintain her ladylike composure, only letting out the mildest of chuckles.
“Fighting the ‘demon’ again, darling?” Rarity asked as the two walked over to her, a bemused smile on her muzzle.
Twilight scowled, crossing her forelegs and looking away with a huff – and an embarrassed blush. The blush deepened—though the frown melted away—when Pinkie leaned in and nuzzled her cheek.
“Aww, don’t worry, Twilight,” she said. “We all go through creationary problems sometime. Like me! I’m still trying to figure out some birthday parties three weeks from now.”
“Yes, darling. The muse can be quite fickle sometimes.” Rarity walked over, and nuzzled Twilight’s other cheeks. The lavender alicorn was growing more and more red-violet. “But, you know what helps?”
Twilight sighed. “Stepping away?” she asked with a tired smile, glancing between the two.
“Well, yes…” Rarity began.
“But a cuddle pile too!” Pinkie cheered.
Twilight chuckled, slipping off the stool. “Well, I guess some time away might help.” Her stomach let out a grumbling protest – all that wheel spinning had taken energy, after all. “And I could also use something to eat.”
“To the kitchen!” Pinkie proclaimed, all but charging from the room
“Can’t work off an empty stomach,” Rarity agreed with a giggle, slipping a wink to twilight before following the pink party planner out.
Twilight sighed – a happy sigh at least. It was great being stuck between two of Equestria’s most creative minds. They always knew what her own needed. That, and they were professional cuddlers.
As she walked away, she glanced back at the rolled up parchment. From this angle, it almost looked like the malevolently-curled smile of writer’s block looking back at her in triumph. With a shake of her head, she left the room.
Writer’s block often won the battles, but she always won the war.
Author's Note
Date of Creation (D.o.C.): 11/29/21
One day during NaNoWriMo, when I complained that I couldn't come up with anything to write, someone on one of my Discord servers offered that I write Twilight with writer's block - to paraphrase them, "turn my writer's block into pony." Not long after that, Seer published his story--which I highly recommend reading--so I broke down a few days later and wrote mine.
Going into this, I wanted to ship Twilight with a creative pony of the Mane 6 to coincide with her desire to write - either Rarity or Pinkie. Eventually, after I couldn't decide who would be better, I did a Road to El Dorado and went with both. Both is good.
The song I listened to while writing this was Bounce Man Stage from Mega Man 11.
-yours truly,
The Legendary Bill Cipher, Equestria Enthusiast
