Late Night Conversation of an Author and a Mare
Typing here, in the dark, makes me feel free. Like there is nothing else in the world I could possibly care about. The way I get lost in my illuminated screen and ignore the black room around me. All my troubles, fears, doubts, leave me alone as I sit here thinking of the words to type, one by one. As the words flow out of my hooftips and into the screen, I feel my soul growing, almost shining against the bleak undertones of the outside world. Yes this is what being a writer feels like. It isn’t the fame, fortune, colts or mares. It’s about feeling the rush of knowing you can create your own reality and shape it to whatever you want. For myself, I am but one mare. I...am Rainbow Dash...
“Rainbow Dash! What are you doing!?”
“Uhhh...nothing, Magic! Just uhhh, reading some Daring Do fan fictions!”
“Let me see! You were trying to look at porn again weren’t you!?”
“N-n-no, I swear! I was just reading My Little Doie!”
While scanning the screen, “Huh...this is actually pretty good, Dash!”
“Wait...huh!?”
“You heard me. Unfortunately, you just destroyed another one of my keyboards. I told you I was working on a keyboard that would let you use your hooves.”
“I’m sorry, Magic. I just had some ideas and I needed to write them out before I lost them!”
Sighing, “Yeah I know how that feels.”
“Oh yeah, what do you know?”
“Well I was a writer for the longest time before I came to Equestria. I’ve even written some popular stories about you.”
“Oh yeah! Wasn't the most popular story in the Human world about me?”
“Heh, yes but only in the fanfic world. In other views, you and your friends were not liked.”
“Why though!? How can they withstand my awesome awesomeness!?”
“They just didn't understand it like we did.”
“That sounds kinda complicated.”
“Oh, it is. More than you can understand. No one understood why, but not only were we misunderstood, but we were also hated.”
“Hated? But why?”
“We couldn't figure it out ourselves for the longest time. It was like what Pinkie did to Cranky. She was ready to accept him into her life with joy and care. He just kinda hated her so it almost never worked out.”
“Well did you guys give ‘em gifts so that they liked you?”
“Well it wasn't that simple. We would show them that we didn't mistreat them, yet they continued to mistreated us for what we liked. We eventually gave up and ignored them.”
“But then what happened?”
“Well, I stuck it to them!”
“What!? How?”
“I took my writing of fan fiction into the real world, writing my own ideas and experiences down and then typing them out for the world to see!”
“But what did that do?”
“Well you know the guys that hated us for what we liked?”
“Yeah?”
“Well they were also reviewing my book on their blogs as some kind of ‘Best Seller’ that would never leave shelves for centuries to come!”
“Wow, you must have gave them hell after that!”
“Uhhhh, not quite.”
“What do you mean, ‘not quite?’”
“Well, they found out I liked ponies and made a mockery of-”
“Wait, what’s ‘mockery?’”
“Oh, it’s when you make fun of something. Anyways, they mocked my book and stopped people from buying it. Calling it ‘trash’ and ‘the ramblings of a madman.’ They also called me a terrible and delusional writer for writing such a risk taking book, even though days before, they were praising it for being original and edgy.”
“Well, what did you do? Did you fight back!? Did you stand up to those punks who made fun of you!?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean ‘nope?’ Do you mean you just sat there and took it!?”
“Shhh, Dash! Calm down and I’ll explain everything.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“As I was saying, I didn’t do anything because I didn’t need to. Everything they had said, was done and taken into consideration. Now all that needed to happen, was for the true Human beings, to read my book. Eventually, they did and their comments popped up on their blogs, saying how wrong they were and that my book was a national timepiece.”
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that I triumphed over those that hated me because of my taste in culture, with the power of my words, and my faith in people.”
“What are you getting at, Magic?”
“I’m getting at the fact that you are sitting at my computer at two thirty in the morning, writing a very good piece of literature. Dash, I know you are scared of people calling you an egghead, but why?”
“Well...because I would get picked on at flight school. They would always tell me to stop reading and to take off my glasses. I ended up listening to them because they said my parents didn’t love me, and that’s why I was in the orphanage. I felt so alone.”
“Well then, why not do what I did?”
“How?”
“Well, the way I see it, you won the Best Young Flyers Competition and not only did you make yourself proud, but I’m sure they got jealous real quick. You just stuck it to them and you did it with style.”
“Yeah but what does that prove?”
“It proves that you have the courage to ignore all of their words and beat everyone’s expectations.”
“Heh, you’re right! I beat those punks and everyone loved me for it!”
“Yep, and all it took, was a push in the right direction. Now whaddaya say? Lets go write you a story!
“Wait, Magic?”
“Yeah, Dash?”
“Thanks...for everything. It means alot to me that you are helping me through this and giving me courage to do this. And I am really sorry about the keyboard. I’ll buy you a new one!”
“Don’t sweat it! But this time, let me type.”
“Heh...okay.”
“Alright, ready when you are!”
Smiling, “It all started on the first day of Flight School...”
