Thunk.
I blink awake as my snout hits the desk. Did I fall asleep trying to write again? Lazily, my eyes drift to the clock at the bottom corner of the computer screen. 03:46.
I look up at the story I’m writing. The False Goddess: Act IV. I sigh and shake myself off. I can try to bang out another few sentences, I guess. Slumping a bit in my seat, I move my hooves to the keyboard and start typing again.
There’s not a lot coming to me. I know what Gustopha’s supposed to be doing right now; hell, I have it in the notes document on the second screen, but I just can’t seem to figure out now to move the scene forward. I’ve been doing this for some hundred thousand words, why can’t I make it click all of a sudden…?
I hesitate and pull back from the screen a bit as I hear hoofsteps coming down the stairs, followed shortly by a voice.
“Are you still up?” Asks Twilight Sparkle, my… Landlord? She’s letting me stay in the castle since Ponyville’s inns are full. It’s very kind of her.
“Mostly,” I joke, forcing a smile at her as she comes and looks over my shoulder.
She looks at me with a soft, concerned expression. “You really should try to get some rest; it’s late,” She reasons.
I bite my lip. “In a minute,” I excuse, “I should at least finish this paragraph.”
“Wanderlust…” She begins, “How much have you written today?”
“...Only a few thousand words,” I admit, “It’s been a slow day.”
Twilight’s eyes widen. “I don’t know many ponies who’d consider a few thousand words a ‘slow day’,” She expresses.
“It’s slow for me, when I’ve got five projects I want to work on,” I huff softly.
“Maybe you should sleep on it,” Twilight suggests, patting my shoulder, “A good rest does the mind good.”
I sigh a bit and stand up from the cushion, shaking myself off. “Fine,” I huff softly, “My eyes are getting sore, anyways.”
“Do you need to talk about something?” Twilight asks.
I bite my lip and sigh.
“You can talk to me… I know we’re not exactly friends, but you’re living in my home, so I could at least stand to check up on you,” She remarks.
“I’ve set the bar too high for myself,” I admit, “I’m so used to being able to zone into writing for hours that now I can’t let myself do other things.”
Twilight gives me a sympathetic look. “Like… Like what?” She asks.
“Well, I can’t think of the last time I played something for longer than about fifteen minutes,” I suppose, “Most of my leisure time is either writing or watching youtube because I’m too mentally spent to write anything, and even during the latter I usually try to putter at something at least.”
Twilight frowns a bit. “You need to give yourself a break,” She says, “I don’t think anypony’d get upset if you took a couple days for yourself.”
I shake my head. “There are people following my stories; it’d be selfish if I just blew things off for my sake,” I huff, “I owe them something to read, at least, since they put faith in me to work on things…”
Twilight steps forward and sets her hooves on my shoulders. “Wanderlust,” She begins, tone more firm, “Take a step back, and put yourself before your writing. You write for passion, do you not?”
I tense a bit, but nod.
“So if you don’t have any passion left, you should…” She trails off, leaning in.
I avoid eye contact. “...I should give myself a break,” I reply hesitantly.
Twilight’s face turns into a gentle smile, and she again pats my shoulder. “You’ve got a lot of love in your heart and interesting ideas in your head, even if you have trouble expressing them sometimes,” She expresses, “But that doesn’t mean you have to burn yourself out trying to share that love with the world.”
I smile a weak smile. “I’m not a good writer to begin with,” I remark, “My sense of pacing is bonkers, I can’t get my mood to sit still for five minutes on a good day, I’ve more tense than a campground in the summer,” I briefly chuckle at my own pun, “And half the time I can’t even make responses line up without rewriting them twice.”
Twilight bites her lip. I have a feeling I might’ve over-replied there.
“...Sorry. I don’t get to talk about this kind of stuff with many folks,” I huff, looking away dejectedly. Why did I even bother with this train of thought?
“...Well, sure, you might not have flawless grammar, and you might be rough around the edges, but you still put love into everything you do, don’t you?” She asks.
I nod fervently. “I do,” I reply, “I don’t write things I don’t feel passionate about… It’s why that person who requested me back in september is still waiting on a story that should’ve taken me two weeks to write, if that.”
Twilight Sparkle forces a smile. “I think most ponies can look past some roughness if they can see love,” She expresses, walking past me, and fiddling around the computer. She pulls up my profile; the list of stories I’ve published.
“I mean, look,” Twilight begins, “Five out of your thirteen stories have an overall positive response,” She reasons, “And three of those are neutral.”
I smile a bit and look away. “I’m aware,” I reply, “And I’m happy for every single like I’ve ever gotten. I’m happy that there are folks out there who like my writing; for whatever reason. Maybe it made them laugh, maybe it intrigued them, maybe it even just hit the right way on a bad day. And the comments… Oh, I adore the comments,” I sigh wistfully, “It’s always a highlight of my day, even if the comment itself is something silly.”
Twilight nods a bit. “Then you shouldn’t spoil that for yourself,” She reasons, “Get some rest, take a day or two to let your energy come back, and then go at something with a fresh mind.”
I nod a bit and trudge my way over to the couch. “Alright,” I reply softly, “Thank you.”
I settle myself down and pull a few heavy blankets over me, sighing gently as I let my eyes close.
Thank you, indeed.