All of that talk of editing was making me nervous about the "Young Fiction Writers of Equestria" competition. The first time I got to actually meet Princess Celestia (that's right I had spoken to her on multiple occasions) she mentioned it to me and suggested I submit a novel to it. To hear her say that, well, I'd never felt more proud of something I created in my life. It was such an honor for her to recognize me like that. Ever since then, I have been rewriting and rechecking my best stories everyday. I still wasn't sure about which story to submit at that point, but it absolutely had to be my best work. Winning this competition was my chance to jump start my career as a novelist and I had worked so hard and prepared so much for this golden opportunity.
So you can understand why some snot nosed colt trying to tell me what was what would get on my nerves. Where was his motivation to be the best? How many all nighters did he pull trying to make everything perfect? How often did he make himself literally sick by stressing over every minute detail of his work? Maybe everything just came easy to him. Some ponies had a lucky life and didn't have to work at anything. Well I wasn't one of those ponies. I had to work twice as hard just to get into CSGU. My parents couldn't afford the high tuition costs so I had to earn merit scholarships; all of which required essays for application. Good was never good enough. If my work wasn't the best, somepony else would get the scholarship. Most of the kids at school came from rich families. They were spawn of the Canterlot elite and were gift wrapped the best possible education by birth right. I'd put my hard work against their entitlement any day.
But anyway, back to this silly dinner. It turned out I was right. Wearing the pink dress with the laces would have been way too over the top. So you can image how stupid I felt when I showed up to the restaurant wearing it and he was just sitting there...
"Naked? You didn't bother to wear anything nice at all?" When I walked up to the restaurant, he already had a table out on the patio. He must have gotten there early as it had only just turned 7 o'clock.
"Of course not. This establishment does not have a 'jacket only' policy." He took a tiny sip from his tea cup.
"Ok, and..."
"And therefore I did not wear a jacket." He took another sip, as if he had just made an indestructible argument. Now I was overdressed and annoyed.
"You still could have worn something. It was your idea to go to a fancy place. You look like you just woke up." Woke up and meticulously groomed himself, but other that, straight out of bed.
"Well you look like you are going to attend the opera."
There was just no reasoning with this guy.
"That's it, I'm going home." I turned to walk away but plowed right into the waiter. That's what I get for not paying attention I guess.
"Please forgive me madam.”
At least the waiter was a gentlecolt. Night Light could learn a thing or two from him.
“Oh, not at all, it was my fault.” I was a little shaken up from smacking into him. It took me a second to reorient myself.
“Would you like to see our wine list?" He held out a small laminated sheet. It was full of words that I was unable to read. Phrench class wasn't until next semester.
"I'm afraid I'm a little too young for that list. I'll just have whatever tea he's having." I moved my dress to the side so that I could sit down at the table.
"Right away madam," The waiter shuffled his way back toward the kitchen.
"I thought you were leaving," Night Light raised his eyebrow.
"I was, but I don't wanna subject anymore waiters to my hasty retreat." I checked my outfit to make sure everything was still in place.
"Perhaps you are right. I suppose I could have brandished a bow tie for our meeting." He brushed his hoof against his neck line.
"At least you don't look as ridiculous as I do. This thing is gaudy and over priced." I considered taking the whole thing off and throwing it in the trash. Then I remembered exactly how much the dress cost me in the first place.
"Actually, I can admire a mare who is willing to go to such extravagant extremes. I must admit you look..." For the first time since I met him today, he actually had to search for the right word before speaking. His eyes looked up and down my get up. It's not like I was unused to colts checking me out.
"...Fetching,"
Good enough. Maybe this kid did have some hope.
"It's a little late to turn on the charm now, buster." I couldn't help but grin a little. "Anyway, what did you think of my book?"
"It was decent."
My grin disappeared.
"Decent?"
Never mind, he was hopeless.
"Indeed. Do I not project enough when I speak?"
There it was. The arrogance, the smugness, how did this kid not get punched daily. No wonder he never talked to anypony.
“Decent!” I probably shouldn’t have yelled that. A few other customers looked over at us. Night Light opened my book up on the table.
“Much of what progresses your story line is dependent on contrivance and coincidence regarding some very improbable circumstances.”
Was he for real?
“It’s fiction, there’s not going to be a perfectly logical explanation for everything.”
Didn't he have any imagination?
“Granted, however, there does still need to be a consistent logic to any fictional universe, no matter how fantastical. Otherwise, you risk the audience losing their willingness to suspend their disbelief. There were also some minor grammatical errors. You will see that all of my notes are marked in red.” He presented me the book with his magic. I grabbed it somewhat forcefully with my hooves and flipped through the pages. There were so many notes. It looked like he was trying fill a coloring book with only one crayon.
“You marked my manuscript?”
“Yes, standard procedure for an editor.”
I swear, the more upset I got, the calmer this guy was.
“This was my only copy.” I frantically tried to read some of his notes. I could barely make sense of them. Maybe I was just too angry to think straight.
“Oh… well then… I suppose this advice is a little late, but you may want to make multiple copies before submitting a piece of work to an editor.” I gave him the nastiest possible look I could muster.
“What do you mean by ‘grammatical errors?’ I had this proof read by three professors.”
“Like I said, minor errors.”
“So I guess you’re some kind of expert?”
“‘Expert’ suggests a body of professional experience. I suppose that would put both of us in the amateur category... in the strictest definition of course.” He smiled. I swear he smiled. He wiped it off his face pretty fast but I know what I saw.
“Look, Night Light, I really appreciate that you went through the trouble to read through my book and make… copious comments on it, but I think that I’m going to go with the advice of my professors on this. I’m not sure if you noticed, but you’re the only one who sees this many problems with my writing so…”
Night Light looked down at the table as if he was thinking really hard about something.
“Twilight, may I be completely frank with you?”
Frank? So up until now he was just blowing smoke up my flank? I wasn't sure what to say so I just sat there.
"You need to get over yourself."
If this kid wasn't careful I was going to punch him.
"Excuse me?"
He crossed the line one too many times.
"You may think I'm giving you less credit than your teachers, however, it is precisely the reverse. They look at you as a student and nothing more."
Now I was really confused.
"But Night Light, we are students."
He smacked his hoof on the table. I just sat there shocked. It wasn't as if he did it really hard or anything; I just couldn't believe he was showing emotion of any kind.
"In practice, yes, we are students. But students like us are so much more. We are ready for the professional world yet we are limited by this asinine title of student that restricts our ascension like a glass ceiling above our heads. It is as if it is not permitted to do anything truly remarkable until we have fully reached adulthood."
I kinda wished I had a box of popcorn. This was getting good. I was kind of agreeing with it too.
"However, by then it may be too late. As adults we may be educated out what made us unique before we can develop our talents into something that is truly our own. Not something manufactured for academic tastes." He looked at me with eyes that were full of a passion that I rarely saw in anypony.
"Nice speech. What are you getting at?"
It would have been a big let down if he didn't have a point.
"Your stories are treated like school projects and not works of art."
"But they aren't school projects."
Wait, did he just call my books works of art?
"It does not matter. They judge you by the same rubric. All of your stories deserve an A+ for a student, but is that all you want them to be?"
I hadn't thought of it like that before.
"No, I guess I not."
"Then what do you want? A pat on the back or true recognition? Do you want academic success or critical success?" He stood up and leaned over the table.
"I want what I do to be taken seriously." All of those doting compliments from my professors suddenly felt patronizing thanks to Night Light's speech. For a quiet kid, he sure knew how to get you all riled up. He placed his hoof on top of mine and looked me straight in the eye.
"Then lets get to work, shall we?"
I'm not sure if it was just the dress, but I was feeling a little hot under the collar.
"I... Night Light I..."
Was it just me or do waiters always seem to show up at the worst possible moment.
"Madam, your tea Earl Grey, hot." The waiter set the tea cup down in front of me. Night Light sat back down in his chair looking a little embarrassed.
“Thanks.”
The waiter went on his way without taking our order. I guess he felt that he interrupted a ‘moment’ or something.
“Well Night Light, I gotta say, you make a pretty good case for yourself.” I stirred my tea a bit.
“I am a little confused, I believe I just made a case for you.”
I smirked a little and blew on me tea. The stuff looked hot enough to boil an egg in.
“So you really want to be my editor huh? Well how about you help me decipher some of these notes you made and we’ll talk about it.” I took a sip of my tea and I gotta say, I had never experienced anything quite like it before. I immediately spat it back into the cup.
“Oh my Celestia, this tea is awful.” I looked around the table but we didn’t have any water.
“It is an acquired taste.” He took another sip of his tea, probably just to mock me.
“How do you drink this?” I rubbed my tongue with the silverware napkin.
“Slowly, it is very hot.”
I rolled my eyes
“You should do stand up.”
“I prefer to sit while I eat.”
I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“That was really funny Night Light.” Almost funny enough to get the taste out of my mouth, almost. He looked like a realization had struck him.
“Oh, I see. You were suggesting that I perform a stand up comedy routine.” He nodded to himself.
“This really is you isn’t it?” I shook my head at him. I probably looked like I was studying him now.
“Whom else would I be?” He shrugged.
“I mean your whole persona, just… you. I don’t know, I guess I thought you were just acting this whole time.” That probably didn’t come out as well as I’d hoped.
“Acting? In what regard?” He went back to his usual frown/scowl.
“I don't know it's just... you don't act like anypony I've ever met."
It's kinda refreshing when somepony is unapologetic about being themselves and you know where they stand. Especially in a school surrounded by so many fake ponies trying to use you all the time.
"Would it be preferable if I behaved more like other ponies?"
It was clear that other ponies had pointed out his odd behavior to him in the past. When everypony tells you that you should be different than who you are, I wonder how long you can just shrug them off.
"No, no it wouldn't be preferable." I shook my head.
"I am aware that, at times, my behavior is... difficult for some..." He looked away from me. I don't think I liked shy Night Light. No, I didn't like it at all.
"Good, keep being difficult. Everypony can just deal, ok?" I couldn't help but smile.
"You think I should be intentionally antagonizing?" His cocked eyebrow and his curious look returned.
"I think you shouldn't change who you are for others. You’re the one who said that we aren't taken seriously because we're students. Well, how are we going to change their minds if we don't flick a few horns here or there?"
Finally, a real smile appeared on his face. Not a grimace and not a quick smirk. He was legitimately smiling. He was kind of cute when he smiled... don't read into that too much.
"I find your reasoning... agreeable." He nodded his head.
“Fantastic, now help me run through these notes of yours. I can’t make heads or tails of them.” I pulled up the excessively marked manuscript with my magic and turned it sideways so that we could both look at it. He scooted his chair next to mine and bumped into my leg. I don’t think he noticed.
“Very well. We will begin with the most pressing issue which is your convoluted overarching plot line.” Here we go again, I guess. I sighed and put my hoof to my forehead. To be fair, I literally asked for it this time.
****