Story Reviews » Reviews! Round 59 · 3:52am Dec 23rd, 2014
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“Honestly, Plum, it’s like you’ve never used a fuel-air bomb before.”
Professor Plum looked across the table at Belligerent Sock. One of his eyebrows quirked in a typically-British expression of concern. “You’ve never brought up the prospect of using thermobaric weapons on things before. It’s more than a little disconcerting.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Sock shot a finger at the calendar on the wall. The month of December was showcased, with every date leading up to the 24th marked with words like “ammunition arrives” or “alpha battery in position” or “cyanide asparagus ready”. The 24th itself was labeled simply: “BURN HIM”.
“We’ve only got a few days left,” Sock continued. “And since more than half of the planned operations failed to meet their deadline, we’ve got no choice but to accelerate the timetable. Why do you think I brought you in on this in the first place?”
“My British wit?”
“Blech, no. Why does a red-blooded piece of American footwear call on your people at all? Desperation!”
“Well, maybe if you had called on me earlier, you wouldn’t be so desperate.”
“Save it, Kitchener. You said you wanted to right the injustice wrought on millions of plums by being made into pudding, right? Be thankful you’ve been given such a grand opportunity.”
“I said that?”
“I’m sure you did. We’re brothers, you and I. Our people have both suffered for generations. Millions of socks, left to burn alive over many hearths. Millions of plums, rapaciously consumed.” He pulled Plum in tight, reaching his other hand out to the heavens. “Even if you never spoke of it, I could always hear the whispers of your tortured, kindred soul.”
Plum peeled Sock off of him. “Right. So, what exactly do you need me to do?”
“My war against the Red Fatty and his sock-scorching ways is going to have to be simplified. For this new vision, I need only your Scottish barbarity.” Sock blinked. “Wait. When was the last time you stripped down, painted yourself blue, and went charging into battle screaming your head off like your kind are wont to do?”
“Last Tuesday,” Plum said, his expression flatter than a Nevada desert.
“Excellent. Then you’ll still be good and limber! Now, come on, we’ve still got a lot to prepare for our strike on Wednesday night!”
“Wait,” said Plum. “You’re planning on hitting the North Pole on the 24th?”
“Yeah.”
“Christmas Eve?”
“Yeah.”
“The one night that Santa Claus isn’t going to be there?”
Sock stared at Plum. Then he stared at the piles of papers, diagrams, and charts littering the room. Then he stared at nothing in particular.
His response, when it came, was forceful and very succinct.
ROUND 59
STORY 1
Wings, by Not_A_Hat
A wanderer drifts out of the desert, looking for freedom.
SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO WING IT!
Every so often, you read a story that just sweeps you away to some faraway place. A story that leaves you smiling as you come to the end of it. A story that manages to capture a tone and texture that just feels complete. I’ll stop beating around the bush here: this is one of those stories.
It’s a simple one, to be sure. There are only two characters. There are only two scenes. There’s only one viewpoint. But like a simple pair of socks, it evokes a number of elements far outside its limited scope. It takes the reader on a far-flung journey despite never once lifting their feet.
I admit, I’m a sucker for this sort of thing. Worldbuilding is always best when it’s given in little bites, and this fic is a veritable snack tray of delicious morsels. Again, let me stress that there are only two characters and two scenes at play here, and yet we cover subject matter ranging across many years and many thousands of miles.
And all this wrapped up with prose that is dripping in voice. One of our two characters is an OC, as indicated by the tags, and he’s a highly-interesting dude. His dialogue is sage-like, weathered with experience, and you can practically hear the raspy breath between each word. What’s more, his inner dialogue continues the worldbuilding buffet, which is always welcome.
I’ll not spoil exactly what the story’s all about, since it’s appeal is tied up in the discovery one gets from reading it. Suffice it to say, though, this one certainly goes places, and ends on a note that, again, feels utterly complete.
It’s a round with me on it, so you know all know what to do by now.
GET READY FOR SOME WORLDBUILD-Y GOODNESS
You know, I can’t help but be reminded of Archonix’s story To Be A Mule, when reading this. Two characters, a single discussion for about 3k words, and being surprisingly deep for such a low word-count. Funnily enough, Sock and I reviewed that story too…
And yet, you’d struggle to find more polar themes than these two fics. Whereas TBaM is blunt, with its world-weary view of “That’s just the way things are”, Wings is full of self-empowerment, introspection, and hope. There’s something about Wings that seems to defy what one could expect of such a short story. Instead of being a rather dumb story, as one might expect from one with so few words, there’s elegance in its simplicity that makes me feel slightly ashamed for ever having doubted it.
And yes, the Worldbuilding is absolutely gorgeous. 3k words, and we’re painted visions of ancient gods, unknowable horrors, incredible powers and mighty battles. All while the characters swap idle chit-chat over cups of tea.
Minimalism is the key to worldbuilding success, in my opinion, and Not_A_Hat seems to have that down to an art.
Both the characters are pretty gorgeous, too. As you can guess by the [Spike] tag, Spike is a major character.
OR IS HE?
He’s damn well written. Slightly aged up, compared with current Spike, but it’s a believable maturity, and he still seems like the same dragon under those scales. The other character is Rishi, a shaman. And man, this is a damn good OC. Take notes, this is how you write a sage. Or a mystic. Or anything like that. Cos this guy’s pretty much a perfect combination of wise platitudes, personal experience, and a heaping pile of simple common sense.
I shan’t speak of the story, for that would ruin a lot of the introspective stuff, so I’ll simply wait for you to go read it.
Go on.
I’ll be here when you get back.
I can wait.
Don’t mind me. I’m just waiting. Patiently.
Amethyst Breeze and Ember are two detective mares who recently established a Private Investigator's office in Ponyville. Low on funds, the two mares take almost any job, so long as it pays. However, when things in Ponyville start getting turned upside down, literally, the two mares discover that they may have bitten off more than they can chew...
I HAD OCD ONCE, BUT THEN I ALPHABETIZED IT PROPERLY; NOW I HAVE CDO!
Personality. It’s one of the key parts of any work of fiction. It defines the tone, the plot, and the very prose of the work. It’s what makes a story worth remembering. After all, if an author does nothing else, they’d better craft some memorable characters.
This fic presents a good example of how to do it right. From the first moments they’re on-screen, our protagonist investigators positively ooze personality, like a pair of socks after being worn for a week straight. Ember and Amethyst Breeze are strange, certainly, but they share a strange endearing dynamic, as well. They’re polar opposites, and that’s what makes it work.
It’s a classic comedic team: the straight man (or mare, in this case), and the wise guy (or gal, rather). One is focused, serious, and practical, the other is silly, free-spirited, and off-the-wall, and in this case, they play off of each other extremely well. Their dialogue reads of familiarity in that playfully antagonistic sort of way, giving their scenes a lot of energy without seeming unfocused. It does take a bit to start getting to know these characters under the surface, but the rollercoaster has enough crests and dips to feel worth the ride.
And it’s a loopy rollercoaster, too. The mystery underlying all of this is fittingly absurd: some mysterious villain has decided to flip Ponyville on its head. Literally. Why? Well, that’s the mystery, of course, and it undoubtedly has an equally-crazy explanation. Be forewarned, readers: this is a fic still in-progress, but given what it’s put out so far, the resolution is likely to be both overblown and funny. All in all, not bad for just under 17,000 words.
So. Imagine Pinkie and the Brain does hardboiled noir Private Investigator stuff. Except Pinkie tries to seduce everyone, and Brain only learnt about PI work from TV shows. Also, maybe less PatB, more Dumb and Dumber? With maybe a hint of Dangermouse, where everyone’s Penfold? Kinda?
Whatever it is, it’s pretty damn funny.
Wait, wrong Pinkie
To explain, this is a very silly fic. If you’re looking for a detective story that deals with the nitty gritty things they are wont to do, best keep looking, as this one really doesn’t take itself seriously.
And you know what? I respect that. A lot of the time, we feature stories that are almost bottomless with how deep they go, or have incredibly meaningful layers (like ogresonions) that seem to go on forever. It’s nice to get a bit of simple, well-made comedy for a change.
And it is really well made. The prime attraction here are the two main characters, Amethyst and Ember, and how they try to go about the business of spying on people, while simultaniously being terrible spies. Honestly, it’s like reading a really well written sitcom, what with the style of humour, and the way the two leads bounce off each other.
I said it’s like a WELL WRITTEN sticom
I will admit, there’s nothing about this story that seems daring and new to me. It’s a fairly standard straight man/goofball comedy duo, doing goofy stuff while trying to do a srs job u guise. No awards for originality there. But the author’s written it in such a way that it remains fresh, interesting, and entertaining. I hope more comes soon.
Applejack and her family go to the beach, on a rainy day in June.
I’LL SEE YOU ON THE BEACH!
So, I looked at the cover art for this one, and I thought, “That beach looks familiar, somehow.” Then I see that this fic was written on June 6th, and I thought, “Oh, wait a minute.” And then I clicked the “Source” link on the cover art and saw where it took me, and I thought, “Yup, I’mma need some scotch for this one…”
For those of you who haven’t connected the dots yet, all of this adds up to a historical reference that probably sets off alarm bells for those who don’t like real-world tragedies gettin’ all up in their fanfiction (like me). That said, this one surprised me by dealing with its subject matter rather tastefully, and going the extra distance to ensure it didn’t fumble the narrative in favor of its real-world trappings.
See, it’s not enough to simply weave the toe of a sock and hope for the best. It’s not enough to stitch the ankle and heel and leave the rest unfinished. You have to take the fabric of your story and ensure you weave a whole sock out of it, something that will resonate with the reader as they try it on. If you rely on the initial trappings of your premise, your reader is left wiggling their toes in the open air of disappointment, and if you put too much into the end result, they won’t have anything to hold the sole in place.
This fic manages to take its central idea and integrate it well into the overall world of the MLP ‘verse. It helps that it’s a universal theme, one that hits even harder if you’ve ever had family in the military. Then again, maybe I’m just a sucker for the “Missing Man” formation and its simple beauty. Regardless, this one struck a chord with me, and for how short it is, I’d say that speaks well of its craft.
The fact that the description for this story points out it was written on the sixth of June should clue people in on what to expect. For those who haven’t caught on, here’s a clue:
A bit of a tone shift from the last story, to say the least
A rather tasteful coverage of the subject matter, all told. Rather somber, slightly melancholy, but not at all tacky. The author clearly knows what they’re doing, when dealing with less-than-cheerful subject matter, as they handle it with grace and
This is a story I’d say was… inspired by the tone of remembrance, rather than ripping directly from the subject matter at hand and writing a fic about “Pony War II” or some such nonsense. Respectable foresight and common sense, on the author’s part. I, for one, would rather not see another 9/11 “inspired” “tragedy” “story”, but this isn’t the place for such grousing.
Propmaster does well, here, as the central themes of the story don’t clash with the world of MLP, despite the gnashing of gears one might imagine when a colossal pony-gryphon war is mentioned. Again, surprisingly tasteful, especially when referencing real-world memorial traditions, such as the flyover at the end.
There’s not much else for me to say about this story. It’s even shorter than the 3k words Wings, up top, but still rather powerful. The theme of today seems to be elegant simplicity, and I think I’m okay with that.
STORY 4
Feedback, by Curly Q
After Rainbow Dash's magnum opus fan-fiction, Daring Do and the Ring of Destiny, fails to attract the response from her editor, Rarity, that she expected, she copes with her feelings of rejection in a manner befitting of her established reputation: by parking her cloud mansion above the boutique and drenching it in a watery apocalypse.
TAKE IT FROM AN EDITOR: THIS IS ABSOLUTE TRUTH!
So… satire. I loves me some satire. It’s probably because it almost sounds like a portmanteau of “sadistic” and “attire”, which is what I always strive to be. It’s also because when it’s done right, it’s probably one of the best forms of comedy this side of schadenfreude.
This fic does it right, and it shows right in its opening lines. Like a sock used as an impromptu coffee filter, dialogue can be a somewhat difficult vessel for extracting bitter humor, but it is an effective one nonetheless. It takes considerable command of a character’s voice to ensure that the author’s own words are obscured and the flavor of the satire is allowed through in its wholesome entirety.
And yes, the entirety of this fic is essentially a critique of the episode “Daring Don’t.” A very good—and very fair—critique of the episode. Rarity’s letter in the opening rightfully skewers several aspects of its construction, from characterization to staging to the fact that, well, Daring Do really does take a backseat to the Mane Six in the episode. And of course, Dash’s reaction to this critique is hilariously overblown, with a few gems of dialogue that function on multiple levels, including the meta-textual.
It makes you wonder what, in-universe, an Equestrian literary critic would think of Daring Do’s book, and that’s a hilarious thought, indeed.
To sum up Feedback in a sentence, it’s why Rarity is my spirit animal/waifu.
In all honesty, this is a depressingly familiar scenario for many a reviewer, on this site and others across the web, where honestly well-intentioned and politely written criticism gets ignored as “flaming” or what-have-you.
There’s a reason I keep this on my userpage. The best part? He wasn’t the author. I have no idea who they are.
But, once again, I must stop grousing. This story, being even shorter than everything else we’ve featured this round, is both a light-hearted jab at the episode Daring Don’t, and satire of this beloved site of ours, without being direct enough to light up the Metafiction censors of the story approval team.
Truthfully?
This story has rocketed to near the top of my all-time favourite lists, simply because Rarity is my gorram spirit animal, and I feel her pain so hard. Thank you, Curly Q. From the bottom of my stony, cyanide-coated heart, and from the hearts of reviewers the world over. Thank you.
“It’s not the same…”
Professor Plum looked over at Belligerent Sock. He thought about putting an arm around him, but in typical British understanding, thought better of it. “‘Plan B’s’ never are, mate.”
Sock sniffed, wiping his eyes of moisture. “Is it so much to ask that I get to visit terrible vengeance upon my foes?”
Plum settled for patting him on the shoulder. “There’ll be other Christmases. All Western economies depend on them, after all.”
Sock sniffed again. “Yeah. Yeah…” Silently, he dropped an empty can of gasoline onto the pavement with a loud thunk, and then turned and walked away into the grey dusk.
Plum followed at a safe distance, his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. He spared one glance behind him, feeling a bright warmth on his face. Then he, too, walked away.
“And to all a good night,” he said to no one in particular.
Feel free to visit our group for more information and events, and to offer some recommendations for future rounds. See you all next time!
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Four neatly wrapped presents just in time for the holidays. And Csqaured's actually alive to see it this time. Best Christmas ever!
Wow. I'm flattered you guys reviewed my story! When I wrote A Day At The Beach, I was a bit angry. It was the 69th Anniversary of the D-Day Invasion, and there was... nothing. No coverage from the history channel. No coverage from the media. No news stories, no mention anywhere. My grandpa served in World War II, and he was upset that there was nothing anywhere. He lost friends on Omaha Beach.
A Day At The Beach was mostly an outpouring of my emotions about that - how something so important could just be forgotten. I wanted the subject matter—the war and the story around it—not to be the focus, but the characters and the effect this war had had on them. I wanted it to be about remembering. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it and really 'got' it. Thank you for the solid reviews!
I can appreciate a good tale about the pains of story telling .. . but I like Daring Don't for giving Daring Do depth beyond being an Indiana Jones clone, (her split life as YK Yearling), and the fun and games that come from her writing her adventures off as fiction . . . So having the episode reduced to a fanfic in RD's head feels . . . dismissive.
Oh Pluuuuuuuum~
By some coincidence I have just written my own take on Rarity as a rapper. I don't suppose that image of Rarity has a source, by any chance?
Ho Ho Ho Mother
ers!
2672096
D'awwww
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Wait, I'm confused. Why does a sock have hands?
2673275
They were sewn on. Didn't you know? Belligerent Sock has been Pav Feira's sock puppet this whole time.
2673275
Hand. A hand. The hand of a hard-bitten Varyag war chief who made the good ol' pillage push into Russia one winter. That was his first mistake. His second was using the sock of a recently-slain (and therefore rather spiteful) Slavic mystic to try and warm his fingers.
Do I need to draw you a diagram?
2673324
Yes please!
2673357
Well, too bad. I don't have enough cadmium red.
Wow, this was a pleasant surprise! Thank you very much for your kind words, Seattle's Angels; it's a wonderful Christmas present. Merry Christmas to you all, and a happy New Year!
2673324 ....no, I think it's perfectly clear, now.
Thank you!
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Merry Christmas, you helicoprincess son of a bitch.
2678259
And to you too, you crazy stalker
2673324
This is the only pun anyone is allowed to make from now on.
Wait, that isn't a pun, is it? It's a... what do you call that? Oh, man, I'm gonna be up all night now.