Story Synopsis:

How do you know who you are, when you are so many things in one? This is a story about discovering who you are, and what that means to you. It's a reflective piece meant for most readers to be able to connect with Ocellus.

Initial Thoughts: I’m a sucker for introspective stories. I love reading them, and I love writing them, however self-indulgent they may be. But no doubt that a Changeling such as Ocellus has a unique kind of introspection, as, since she is capable of changing form, what does identity mean to her?

Post-reading: A short delve into the philosophical quandaries of self-identification, but does it land the mark? 

Summary: What does it mean to be Ocellus? This is a question she must ask herself, and at first she finds no answer, no way to even approach coming to one. It is only through a chance visit (not even an intended one) from Pharynx that Ocellus begins a journey of self-discovery, and it is through other conversations with Thorax, Twilight, and ultimately herself, that she realizes her personal significance is one of constant learning and growth. 

What Works:

What is the central conflict throughout the story? It’s that question: who is Ocellus? Nailah goes through what we would anticipate is the general progression of answering that question, offering several mentor figures that provide context for Ocellus, a lengthy conversation that compares the two answers the mentors provide, and a final moment wherein a character must wrestle with the nature of that question as it pertains to themselves, before arriving at an answer.

For this progression to work, the story can’t be focused on preaching a sermon. Luckily, Nailah manages to circumvent that issue, through strong characterization. Ocellus’s natural soft-spoken demeanor, her timid but not quite tepid mannerisms, and her sincerity with her confusion all show up and play their part, and none of it ever feels exaggerated or parodic of the character. Nailah gets us to see almost seamlessly through Ocellus’s perspective without much empty space—this is achieved not just by the decision to write in a limited-third-person perspective, but also because interspersed throughout the story is Ocellus talking to herself.

A lot of writers don’t use this technique—though its most famous examples are often seen in plays, it has shown up in plenty of fiction, and it allows for the author to reveal the inner lives of their characters. This rhetorical device is called a soliloquy, and how Nailah uses it here is important, because it opens up another rhetorical device: parallel structure within storytelling. 

Here’s what I mean. At the beginning of the story, Ocellus has this long “talk” with herself. It begins with, ““It must be nice to be so close. To know who you are meant to be. But what about me? Who am I?””, a nice introduction to the central conflict, and then Nailah introduces us to these series of paragraphs:

“Have we changed? Or are we just still the same?” questioned Ocellus, lifting a hoof and staring at it. A heavy sigh escaping her lips. Am I truly different or are we just still the same?

“I mean we look different and all, but do we act different? I know King Thorax has really helped us grow, but what if we turn back into those awful creatures. Or worse, what if I end up hurting one of my friends?” she spoke shivering a bit. She flipped through another page, taking notes as she read. Just stay calm, Ocellus. It's not like it was back then. Relax.

“I really enjoy working on my homework. I find great joy in showing Twilight that we changelings truly have changed. But...sometimes I wonder. Have I changed?”

From there, the rest of the story progresses as, really, a series of conversations, moving away from soliloquy. It isn’t until the end that we get a shorter one:

“I simply love being here. This place is amazing, and every creature seems to know exactly who they are. I feel as though I'm starting to understand more of who I am,” she spoke to herself, blushing a bit. Thankfully, no creature was around to hear her. The voices inside her head seemed to have finally settled down.

“I wonder what I should write...I wouldn't want to make it too long, but I feel like I've learned so much in such a short time.”

And this terminates the conflict nicely. It’s both a resolution of plot and a resolution of structure. On its own, the first soliloquy would have been fine, but it is this second soliloquy, which performs the function of effectively being the answer to the first, that heightens either’s meaning and significance. It’s a technique you see a lot in some younger fiction, but I think it can be used in any genre, and it can be used well provided that the context surrounding its usage is justified.

That begs the question: is the question of who Ocellus is justified by the story’s end? That is, does the story justify presenting itself under that lens?

What Might Need Work:

The short answer is, not quite, but it almost does. I don’t mean to say Nailah’s execution of the idea was flawed; it is a hard idea to write about, even harder to write with any measure of grace. At times the writing necessarily bowed towards personal sermon-hood, and some may argue that Ocellus’s soliloquys were a bit on the nose.

However, that’s 1) the point of it, and 2) not the fault of the author, but the other side of the technique; the risk that comes with the reward. And besides, that’s not where the story loses itself, if at all. 

Arguably, Pharynx’s role as, essentially, the first subverter of Ocellus’s fear of herself, works great at first. However, his role, in that same way, overcomes Ocellus’s. When this happens, Ocellus’s journey of self-discovery takes a backseat to Pharynx’s ability to preach. I understand the function, but it seems to stretch on longer than it should. 

Why this is a concern is also substantiated by the fact that Pharynx is the only character to preach to Ocellus directly. Whether or not his answer is necessarily applicable is a moot point, because the real matter is that King Thorax and Princess Twilight—the two other mentor figures—don’t provide an answer for Ocellus, which is interesting because to Thorax, Ocellus actually asks the question, but to Twilight, she only says it’s something she must personally confront, and on her own at that. That is effectively what Thorax says, anyway.

Based on this, the story meanders on its own culmination. It’s uncertain of which answer is the one it wants to go with while also trying to demonstrate several perspectives, both proactive and guiding in nature. If the answer to “What does it mean to truly be one with yourself” is something Ocellus has to answer on her own, as determined by King Thorax, then the reiteration of that point to Princess Twilight seems to be the best way to terminate that sequence. However, because the story also wants Ocellus to determine an actual answer based on what Pharynx has also told her, the story presses onward, defeating its previous statement. 

My point is that the emphasis seems to be on two places rather than one, and this means that the desired impact—that of self-actualization—doesn’t quite come across as cleanly as Nailah might have wanted it to. Furthering this problem is that the story lingers on smaller plot points that don’t seem to serve much other purpose than to be there. There are a few paragraphs devoted to Ocellus helping out Applejack, but its relevance to Ocellus’s development and realization is dubious at best. Similarly, it is odd that so much time should be spent having Pharynx talk to Ocellus, but little is spent with either Thorax or Twilight. Such a discrepancy would suggest that Pharynx is right, or at least that the author wants us to side with his view the most, but since Ocellus reiterates what Thorax says, we are also supposed to side with that view just the same. 

This seems to be an issue of focus rather than ideas. The ideas are all there, but to get at the issue even closer, Nailah would need to focus on how they want Ocellus to come to this realization. Is it a matter of talking to only a few creatures before she comes to an answer? Or is it a matter of her going on a great journey of personal discovery? Or both?

Both seem to be what was originally the intent. That’s fine, and perhaps the best way to go about this. It is both a discovery of finding out what it means to be a Changeling and what it means to be Ocellus the Changeling herself. But for this to be refined, Ocellus would have to take a larger role in her own education, here—she’d need to seriously want to learn from various sources, arguing with them as she argues with herself, in order to breach that gap. 

In that case, the main issue is narrative focus. There are a lot of ideas at play here, but the story stops short of fully developing all of them. More time, and therefore more words, would be necessary to fix this, but I would also advise cutting out moments that don’t contribute to Ocellus’s personal growth. Focus on what matters to the story, less on the aesthetic and more on the plot. 

7231033
Thank you for the kind review. I admit this is what I believe to be my strongest one shot, and hearing it still has issues is a bit off setting, but to grow, we must learn what works and what doesn't.
*gives headpats*

7231033
Huh. I haven't really been clicking on these threads much, but I've just realized that there seems to be somebody going around downvoting the reviews you post.

7231054
I'd like to frame it in this way: the idea and how you approached addressing the idea, in terms of premise and character-relation, was good. It made sense for why Ocellus should be concerned with this issue, and it made sense her answer.

The weakness really only lies in where the story seemed to linger in places too long, when it seemed like the full extent of Ocellus's answer to her own question was dependent on the advice she received. Said advice differed in both content and elaboration. This difference in the latter is what sparked a critical eye, and while I would not encourage an artificial inflation of the advice itself, I would say that more could have been done to explore it.

That isn't to say the story is bad. It really isn't. It's a good, well-structured story. I can see that great thought went into writing it. My point was that it's a matter of getting even closer to the heart of the story, cutting out the excess and focusing each moment, each paragraph, even each word, down to its fundamentals, and still having the same message craft itself by the end. Effectively it's me acknowledging that you've done a good job with the story; now you can push it even closer to what it stands to be.

I apologize if that sounds overly critical, though. I didn't mean to diminish your talents. If anything, I wanted to try and bring them out to their fullest potential with my review and analysis of your story.