Ok, now one of the best ways to get better at writing, is to actually write. So, let's do it some!

Let's write five hundred words, and then post them to this thread as a comment.

The five hundred words can contain anything at all (though I might prefer if it was pony related).

Now, here's the thing- I don't want you to make any changes to the words after you've written them. I just want you to write them, and then post them here. I don't want you to worry at all about quality, I just want five hundred words. I want all your typos!

Because of these rules, I'm not expecting much. This is just to get you in the mood of writing, not to help you make something great (that comes later).

You may use an idea you've had for a while, or you may just write something off the top of your head. Both ways work well sometimes.

Ok, go write! I shall be participating as well, so I'm off to go do that.

Edit: I mean five hundred words of anything. It doesn't have to be a story at all.

2295696

Short, sweet, and something that my hands wrote, not my mind. It holds some of my beliefs, and some that are just... there. It's what I feel a character, not the protagonist, would feel if they die. Here it is:

Life. A simple word with a not so simple meaning. Ponies know much about it, but still, it remains a mystery. Only when it ends do you truly understand it.

As it is with many things.

But some of us never do truly understand how precious it really is. Until it is too late.

For us, or for someone close to us, it does not matter. But life is something that means so much, more than you could ever imagine.

Each word we say, each syllable, we should hold dear. Because we don’t have enough of it. We never do.

But we want to, more than anything. It’s a mystery not yet solved.

Ponies don’t appreciate it for its beauty, or for anything else. They appreciate each other, more than anything. They hold each other dear, sacrifice what they don’t realize is oh so precious. Love is a strong bond. It will never break, never let go. But you may love many ponies. You can’t live many lives.

But they don’t care. Love is dearer than life to some of them. Some become great, and other lives are a waste.

If only everypony could be happy. But it is not so.

Life is something we all care for, hold within our hearts, even without realizing it. But some feel for others more than themselves.

A very kind, giving, courageous pony would.

But sadly, I was not a kind, giving, courageous pony.

Not until it was too late.

That’s the way it is, has to be, I see that now. Each life is held onto so dearly, a fine string of hope and love. And sacrifice. Everypony has some good, they must just find it. Love, life, courage. Hand in hand in hand.

In all of us, even if we don’t realize.

In me.

Don’t let it deceive you. Let it be long, and worthwhile. Live your life, before it is too late.

You can only live it once.

So many in the world, but so few actually do anything with it. Oh, you must be aware of it, hold it, sacrifice it, love it…

Live it.

Life is worth so much. But there is so little of it. If you could, would you buy more? Change anything? Or are you happy, always accepting, caring, giving, sacrificing?

Your life is in your hands.

Always hold on to it, it is one of the most important things in the world. Without life, there would be nothing.

Life is beautiful, and death must be, too.

But are you willing to take the risk? Do you believe in it, in yourself, do you hold it dear?

Or is it another that your life would go to?

Life, a wonderful, short, fragile thing. Before I end, I have to say, there are many lives, but one you must hold dear. Yours. You must understand what I’m telling you. It comes above all. But will you let another’s come above yours?

I do love that cereal.

2295696
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Oh, boy. Here goes nothing.
Five hundred words, eh? Not so bad. Half a chapter, you've got this, Sterling. Come on, think of something to write. How about that time you fell sow the stairs and found a nickel pained pink?
That didn't happen, you idiot.
I did once have a dream about Rainbow Dash and AJ. Did they do things in said dream?
Yes.
Well, hwat?
Nothing.
Really?
Well, I'm sure they did something. I just don't know if they were doing anything specific. Maybe playing racquetball and trying to eat more yogurt than the other ponies.
You're demented.
I wouldn't use such a foul word.
That's neither here nor there, and I can't stopn thinking about how bad I want to look at the screen right now.
If only I had somepony to look over my shoulder at the possible typos I'm indulging in right now.
Perhaps I should type slower....
What, are you mad?
That word. Now, THAT word, sir, is one I enjoy.
Back to demented.
Since when?
I changed it just now!
You can't do that!
Sure I can! Look, here's my badge.
Okay, fine, your credentials check out, but I'm not so trusting in you yet.
It doesn't matter. You couldn't resist the orders I'm gicing you if you wanted to!
But... But....
Take that, Reginald!
I'm not Reginald.
What?
I'm not Reginald.
Oh. Who are you?
People call me Ron, but I'm actually Steve.
Nice to meet you Bertram.
Am I at five-hundred?
I hope.
Count break?
No, keep going!
Christmas is coming. Are you excited?
Yeah! I'm getting a Princess Twilight Nightlight for Christmas!
Your mum got it?
Yup.
She's a nice lady.
Sometimes.
You messed up there. And back there.
Typos?! Again?!
Arghhhh this is supposed to be somewhat pony-related!@
My apologies, you poor, poor reader. Is this five hundred yet?
Who knows.
You should just keep typing until your hands start to hurt.
No.
Maybe until your friend says the magic word?
You mean the Amadaeus one?
Yup, that's the one.
Well, he's on the mark. Get set. Gooooo!
Anothert typo.
It was on purpose, mate.
But... there were like twelve os.
I felt a little icky writing that last one.
About Os?
Well, pank.
What?
I've got a fanfic to finish.
About the alligator?
Yup. Little Gummy. It's Lightning's fult.
hE ALWAYS RUINS YOU DAY!
i KNOW, RIGHT?
i'M GREETING MY BROTHER.
mEE TOO.
wE HAVE THE SAME BROTHER, YES?
wELL, WE'RE THE SAME PERSON.
I GLANCED OVER AND OH NO CAPS LOCKL
I hit it. I hope it's off.
Well, this blows. I'm trying to type without loking at the screen OR BACKSPACING and it'
s driving me nuts!
saNDPPER GLOVES ON MY BROTHERS HANDS ARE MAKING ME NAUSEOUS.
pANK DANGIT.
mETAPHORS. hOW HAVE i DONE?i'M DONE. HUZZAH.

Wow, that's terrible. Well, you asked for words, and you got them.
I think I'm going to go to bed to sleep off this unrefined junk I have smeared all over this thread.

2295696

Here's mine! It's a snippet of something I may or may not publish at some point, but I just wrote it today.

Lyra sat alone in her room as she carefully and precisely plucked the strings of her instrument. She could feel every fiber of the cold steel vibrating in the air, sending out the sounds of music through her family's house and all through the streets.

That was the sound of pure unadulterated epic-ness.

Lyra knew she was supposed to be practicing her lyre, but she just couldn't find that much pleasure in it. It's not that she didn't like to play lyre; no, she just preferred something a little - louder.

She was supposed to be a famous lyrist one day; that's what her parents wanted. That's why they named her Lyra. The problem was, she was getting tired of having to make a sophisticated melody with only four notes. She needed something a little more powerful, and maybe a little more puzzling in nature.

Lyra loved puzzles, after all.

She smiled. There were certain benefits to having a family music store. One of these was the selection. Lyra could play with any instrument she chose, as long as her parents weren't looking, of course.

Her father practically forbade her playing with the guitars. Too heavy, he would say. Too loud, her mother would agree.

Lyra's smile grew wider. They were gone for the week. Apparently fifteen is the age where young fillies can be trusted to watch a store.

They never said anything about watching it quietly.

Lyra reached for the distortion knob, turning it all the way up. A little heaviness never hurt anypony.
She reached for a nearby plectrum with her magic, and strategically pounded it against the strings of her instrument.

The shockwave which followed was enough to make her already large grin turn into laughter and an utterance of "Oh yes!"

She wasn't satisfied though. She was finally getting to play with a real instrument, and what a beautiful one it was. The flame maple shone strongly against the bright light of the sun from the window behind her as she reached for the volume knob and used her magic to twist the dial until it read twelve.

Earplugs? Check!

Lyra paused for a moment to ask herself whether or not an entire city could go deaf at the same time.
She considered this for a few seconds longer before shouting "Well, it's time to find out!"

Miss Heartstrings really was a rather rambunctious teenager.

Pieces of guitar pick flew through the air in a strange pattern as the young mare hammered onto her instrument as if it were her worst enemy's favorite movie.

Shouts of panic could be heard from the ponies all throughout Canterlot and even into Ponyville.

A window repairman could be seen crying in the streets as he was swarmed by mobs of glass covered ponies as the music ripped at their eardrums.

Ponies could be seen fleeing everywhere. Most of them were screaming as loud as they possibly could, which did nothing but add to the beautiful sound of the chaotic power melody being played.

Oh yeah! Lyra epic guitar stuff!