• Member Since 2nd Jul, 2014
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CrackedInkWell


"Inspiration does not come to the lazy. It only comes to those who call it." - P. I. Tchaikovsky

More Blog Posts194

  • 2 weeks
    Notes from Unfinished Stories and Opportunity

    Dear Bronies and Pegasisters,

    I know I have been quiet for the past several months, but in case you didn't know, allow me to explain.

    I've decided that since I have twelve stories that are still unfinished, I'm going to re-read them to see how to plan them out. And while I was reading and making notes, I've come to a realization. Something to give you, the reader, a unique opportunity.

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    2 comments · 73 views
  • 8 weeks
    Plans Going Forward

    Dear Bronies and Pegasisters,

    Before anyone out there get any ideas that, "Hey, Cracked, I have an idea for a story, do you take up requests?" Or if any of you beg for a sequel from any of the more recent stories, I'm gonna have to do something that I never thought I would say here.

    No.

    Read More

    9 comments · 163 views
  • 13 weeks
    Merry Christmas!

    1 comments · 57 views
  • 17 weeks
    December 6

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    1 comments · 114 views
  • 24 weeks
    Updates

    Dear Bronies and Pegasisters,

    I want to take a moment to give you all some updates about what I've been up to.

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    0 comments · 200 views
May
19th
2019

The Wager · 11:08pm May 19th, 2019

On a rainy night when the world has turned into black and white, a card game was going on a particular street in Ponyville. Inside a cafe where all the lights except for one that shines down on a table. Discord looked up from his hand at the stallion across from him. This said stallion held up his cards like a shield, scanning through his glasses.

"So I've heard your latest little dare turned out well."

"Huh?" This caught the stallion's attention. "Oh, yeah. I'd say that it was a rather... modest success. Honestly, I didn't think anyone would be interested in having the young six getting ahold of hard cider and getting drunk. Although, in hindsight, I guess I could have added a little more to the whole Ocellus being disguised as Chrysalis. But for what's it worth, I think it's okay."

"Ya know," Discord chose a card and let it fold itself into a paper airplane before flying off. "You really ought to give yourself a little more credit here. You have about seventy stories to date, and you've been doing this for almost five years while you are studying at a local college."

He shrugged. "What can I say, I'm a bit of a workaholic. I'm thankful that I've managed to gain an audience. Sure, I know a few other writers that I respect that have so much more and do more. But still... has it been five years already?" Discord nodded. "Wow... Ya know, I owe my readers a lot. Not just for taking notice of my work, but they gave me the motivation to keep going. Giving me feedback on how a story could be improved or pointing out the mistakes that can be easily be corrected that I've overlooked. I have no idea how I could give out my gratitude for what they've done and mean for me."

The flying folded up card came back to Discord, he took it in his lion's paw, give it a hard shook before placing it on the table. "Well, I could think up of a way, Mr. Inkwell."

Looking up from his cards, the stallion raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You see. On Guys Night with Spike and Big Mac, we have this little thing going on in which we make impossible dares to another to see if they could pull it off."

"Should I be concerned?"

"On the contrary. You said so yourself that the one-shot thing was based on a dare by someone who has respect for you. So..." He grinned. "How about I give you mine? In fact, it wouldn't be so much of a dare, more of a bet."

"Coming from you... I don't know..."

He crumbled up his cards until they become potato salad. "Just hear me out on this. I think you might be tempted by the idea. Tell me, do you remember that one story you wrote - about Faust?"

"My Little Girl?" Inkwell tilted his head. "Well yeah. It was the story that pretty much put me on the map. Why?"

"Simple: write up a sequel to that story where not only would the main character be all grown up, and not only would you include locations outside of Canterlot, but you'll include addressing the Wholly Mammoth in the room." He leaned forward. "That being the show is coming to an end."

Mr. Inkwell tugged on his collar, giving nervous glances. "Are you crazy? Look I'm very much aware how popular that story became, but the way how it ended, I don't know if I could come up with a follow-up story to it. I mean, there's so much to answer for to make it realistic to the reader like explaining Lauren's memory being altered, and the Fausticorn making an appearance after Twilight's coronation. I mean, that alone won't go unnoticed as ponies will ask questions about it. I mean, what if she somehow did manage to get back to Equestria, would she remain human or turn into her own OC? Would she run into her OC? There's a reason why I couldn't go forward with that story as I still don't know how to address them to make it easy to swallow."

"Says the writer who said at the start that he won't be good at writing ghost stories or clop and yet still was able to pull it off."

"The point is that I have no idea how to write for a sequel to that story. Heck! I don't exactly know how to begin it!"

"Which is why this final season should provide the golden opportunity. Think about it. Right now, fans all around the globe are coming to terms that My Little Pony is coming to an end and they are worried that the Brony fandom that made all of this possible is going to die off. Don't you think that if there's anyone that could bring perspective on the issue, it would be your Lauren Faust? The creator of the show? Imagine it of coming to Equestria fully knowing that this world is going to have to... stop at one point. Think of the chaos her news would bring, the riots, the panic, the existential crisis, the orgies."

"What!"

"The point here is that this circumstance is the perfect time to write up that sequel. You want the excuse to write it up, it's all right here practically gift wrapped for you! All you have to do it to begin."

The stallion set his cards down, a hoof touching his chin in thought. "I never really thought of it like that..."

"So you'll do it?"

"I'll consider it. Tell me, do you know when this season's hiatus is?"

"Let me see..." The Ex-Lord of Chaos pulled out a mile long abacus. He flipped the beads here and there to help him make that calculation. "If I'm correct and Wikipedia is being honest, the last episode to air before giving the show a break would be after the 22nd of June. Why?"

"Becuase, if I'm going to write this story, then the first chapter would have to be published on my 5th year anniversary. On the 2nd of July. After all, what best way to celebrate and thank my followers than giving the very thing that they've been asking for a long time?"

Discord grinned. "If you're going to go for it, my wager is that not only can't you write up the sequel to 'My Little Girl,' but there's no possible way that it would become as successful as the original. If I'm proven right, then you'll write a story about me. I've noticed whenever you mentioned my name the ratings go through the roof."

"So for my readers, it's a win-win."

"Pretty much. Of course, you still have time to focus on that Novel nopony's gonna read and probably a few other one-shots if you're up for it. But judgment day will come on July 2nd." He held out his lion's paw. "So, Cracked Inkwell, do we have a deal?"

The stallion paused for a moment before shaking it. "Deal."

Comments ( 1 )

As all this was happening, a strange figure-sometimes equine, other times human, but most of the time, distinctly... not-watched from across the street, and a dozen Layers to the side. An amused grin crossed its face-sometimes flesh, other times burned onto a flat mask, sometimes as ethereal as a Wisp on the WInd-as it considered the implications of what it had just heard. "Ɯɛℓℓ иσω, тнιƨ ρяσмιƨɛƨ тσ вɛ ιитɛяɛƨтιиɢ..." the entity spoke, its voice bringing to mind the taste of chlorophyll and TV static, "Ƥɛянαρƨ ωɛ мιɢнт ɛʌɛи ғιи∂ ƨσмɛтнιиɢ ωσятн... cσℓℓɛcтιиɢ..." it let out a chuckle, more akin to a dying engine than a living being.
Sweeping its blind, silver-eyed gaze-one of the few attributes which remained consistent-over the scene a second time, the Jabberwock turned away and passed back into the Between, leaving behind naught more than a Triskelion-the mark adorning its flanks/cloak/???-burnt into the ground where it had stood.

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