What's the point?

by Clockwork Pen

When Creators meet

{Warning: The following fiction may contain potentially heavy-handed subject matter that may not be comfortable to some viewers.}
{reader discretion is advised...}

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Birds added ambiance to the rumble of the bustling cityscape of Southern Canterlot. Many creatures of all stripes and all walks of life conduct their business beneath the caring rays of Princess Celestia’s everlasting sun. Unlike most days, where he too would venture out from his workplace and home to embrace the warmth and visit friends and colleagues at their usual hangouts at local cafes or pubs. This troubled writer today, however, remains at home, alone.

Serious Words sits at his desk, staring at his recent creation. The next short in his ongoing saga following a displaced creature in an alternate universe in a kingdom much like his own that he calls home. Every book so far has fascinated his readers with the wonder, the drama, the growing romance between his protagonist and one of the mane characters.

Above all, he teases these same readers with nibbles of revelations of the motivations behind the antagonists. He progressively reveals who is who as this adventure of fiction and fantasy continues With droplets of hints and references towards things and characters that come and go from the narrative as the story progresses.

However, Serious has stopped and has been absent from his promised biweekly submissions. So far, he has been receiving letters voicing concern and worry towards their favorite writer. Yet, they still lay mostly unopened at the mail chute near his front door. In fact, another batch of five, tied in twine, thudded on top of the pile just seconds ago.

The writer sits staring at this book before him, well, a pile of papers neatly compiled into a manuscript meant to be sent to his publisher to be edited and printed. In fact, it has been finished for several weeks now, and all he needs to do is just need him to fetch a mail mare and have it sent to the publisher or walk it over there himself. Yet, something has had him in the turmoil that has left him truly and aggravatingly stuck.

The first of all to show concern to him in person was the head printer at the same publisher he goes to, which became the first knock on his door today.

"Open," the quiet stallion says lazily. As the front door to his street house opens, he slowly looks up from his absent rereading of the manuscript, squinting at the light to see who is entering his home.

There is a pony, a tan unicorn mare, dawning a work shirt, sleeves slightly matted with drying ink and sweat with a faint outline of an apron on her shirt's chest.

"Seri, hey, I'm sorry for the sudden call; I was just on my way to go bust some dumb dock manager's chops before I saw your place. I hope you don't mind."

She doffs her cap, revealing her mane is still pulled back in a messy bun and hangs the cap on the nearby standing rack with her magic as she carefully closes the door behind her.

"None at all." Serious speaks with monotoned apathy, "I take it you want to see if I'm still alive or something?" He turns back to his halfhearted, rereading as he asked.

"Eh, kinda, more along the lines of-" she looks around the state of the room as she ignites her horn to shine some light, "-Oh my goddess, what became of you my good colt?!"

The state of the room was indeed a reflection of the stallion’s state of stressed depression. Books, mostly used for references and possible inspiration, either lay open on the dinner table or remained in large stacks, some reaching as tall as their bookshelves. It appears at one point; some had fallen over into a heap in one corner. Around the pony's desk, bottles of various flavors of sarsaparilla and the occasional bottle of unhappy peach orchard would be lining the top shelf above him with inks wells either empty or haphazardly tossed towards the wastebasket near his desk. A few seemed to have been smashed against the wall.

Around his chair and wastebasket were crumpled wads of parchment, either moment of writer's block or frustrating lack of creative motivation and detail in his own mind. Either the case, there were enough wads of paper on the floor to reform the log they were once cut from.

She steps over to the table to peer into his kitchen, which, yes, of course, would be exactly as she feared. It is a total wreck, for lack of better words to describe it, with the sink full of lazily rinsed dishes with various mugs and cups dotting the countertop. To her relief, however, there weren't any unattended food items left out to rot. Even as distraught as Serious is, it appears that he has some sense to not just waste out of depression.

"Have you read the recent review?" his only reply. He didn't even move this time, just sitting at his desk with head propped up on his forehooves, eyes staring through the manuscript.

"Recent? Seri, there hasn't been a review on anything about you or your works since a few weeks ago."

"Just, over there, on the table..." He points off to the side.

The printer mare turned her attention at the only uncluttered spot on the table, where there was a newspaper laying open to the reviews page. The section of the gazette, where skilled and supposedly honest critics of various genres of the creative arts such as Artwork, theater, and, sadly, in this case, publications of various titles and series that has caught their interest. Curious, she walked over, carefully not trying to step on anything, till she was standing at the end of the table to get a closer look at the paper. It appears to be not just any column, but a review, the review that Serious has mentioned, circled in ink several times that it seemed that the quill he marked it with started to cut into the paper.

With her horn still alight with a gentle glow, she scans most of the opening paragraphs but then, the words start to get twisted and mean. She remembers now what the reviewer had written. Even now, the idea that somepony would write such a thing has put a twist in her mind and stomach...

"-Now, Let's get into the guts of this issue, shall we? So, as previously mentioned (I guess to the point of redundancy by now), each of these installments has been nothing more than compilations of a confusing trail of details that have no connecting points as far as I'm concerned. Cultural references that have no explanation, and, not to mention, references towards factions, characters, and the like that get mentioned once and do not get mentioned again. So far, there haven't been any indications that such things will not surface again.

What kind of writer leaves us dazed and confused with apparently meaningless details that can either distract from the narrative as a whole or pull one from being immersed within the story?

Oh, Do not get me started with Immersion, the choice of perspective, first-person? Please, it is hard for any reader to get immersed when they have no way to connect with the characters when they have to try to see the story's world through their eyes and not with their own. It would have been a safer call to have written this series of "connecting" shorts in a more comfortable perspective. We all should know this is the tried and true third-person perspective.

As well as tacking on another immersion-breaking aspect of these short stories, what kind of fool would dare dabble in incorporating cryptozoology into a pony adventure story? Humans, seriously? There has not been one in our world in ever, and yet, Mister Serious Words here would challenge the reality of the real world by making such a mythological creature the center of this supposed series.

Never in my life would I consider seeing this world be tainted with such a chaotic creature! According to Princess Twilight Sparkle and Lyra Heartstrings' research, humans are loud, messy, violent, and above all, hungry for the flesh of beings that these things would perceive as (pardon my description) less than equals.

Yet, has Serious Words portrayed such an ungodly creature as the “friendly” protagonist of this adventure?

What goal is he trying to accomplish here?

There is a line that needs to be never crossed, and that is the line of fiction and reality; what this series of stories has been trying to do so far is to shatter that line and instill the possibility that we can be friends with such creatures and live in harmony if they actually did exist in our world that is!

If I were this troubled author, I would attempt to steer the story towards something more reasonable and sensible before he publishes another reality-breaking story about the adventures of this “creature.”

Column Written by Logical Reads

"That," She hesitates, her eyes darting over the reviewer's words, "That bastard, I shouldn't have done-"

"Let it be, Ink, Let it be..." Serious mumbles as he flips another page of his manuscript.

"No, you shouldn't have descended into this madness because of him. Why let one reviewer bring your entire writing dream come to a crashing halt?"

The pony closes his manuscript with an audible clap before finally lifting his messy head. Slowly turning, he looked back at Ink Press with sunken eyes; in the light of her magic, his eyes were barely visible.

"Because, Ink, If I can't move one prestigious pony with my words without causing as much as a speck of confusion, then, what's the point?"

"What's the-Listen to yourself!" she hurries over to him. She places a hoof on his shoulder, "As the head printer, what makes you think I haven't saved a copy of your works for myself?!"

"Flattered..."

"And, and, look over there, by your door!" she spins his chair till he is facing the direction of his front door.

"See?! You have readers that are voicing their concern about you. Your absence with a new installment has troubled a lot of creatures throughout this city and maybe even further away!"

Serious gives no reply as he absently stares at the pile of unopened letters.

"You have moved them with your words, Seri; if you think many others were thinking like Logical Reads, would you be getting that many letters?"

"Perhaps..."

Ink Press sighs as she lets go of his chair. She walks around till she is facing him, "Seri, I understand your sorrow. It's hard to take a beating like that and still have the spark and desire to put down even one new syllable."

"Do you?" His bloodshot eyes shift up to her, "Do you know how it is like to see folks, like those of Logical Reads, hammering and nitpicking your hard work almost every week, thinking they hold sway over what I Create?! I don't think so, I, don't, think so...."

A dry cough shot out from him. He must not have had anything to drink for a long while.

"All this," he spins his chair back to his desk, "Is just the eternal struggle that writers, like myself, face when taking on critique from those who have done the ironic action of reading something they don't like."

"Hate reading is a common tactic among reviewers. I've seen it a bunch in their reviews and-"

"Is it though?" he slowly turns his head to look back at her, "The frustration and confusion from reading something they dislike only inflates the response they write in their reviews."

"Which, yeah, can lead to the demise of many writing careers and so on. Yet, I'm gonna pin this down and say that your works are way different than the haphazard crap that tend to end up on my desk."

"Really? Is that so?"

"I know so, Seri, You have been the only Stallion to hoof deliver their manuscripts every time they got something to publish. If that doesn't mean you put a lot of good stuff into each one, then I have no bucking clue what does." she gently stamps a hoof on the table she stood next to.

"Still, what's the point?"

“Seriously, Seri? Why would you even ask such a thing of yourself when you know what you can do and-”

“Because I can’t, TAKE IT ANYMORE!” The writer grips a half-empty ink well bottle in a surprising blur of motion, sending it flying with a mighty throw. The bottle smashes with a loud pop, splatting ink on the walls and nearby bookshelves.

“Day after day, week after week, Month after bucking month!” The stallion had risen from his seat; Ink press had backed away from him. Fright and worry swirled in her face as Seri stamps on the floor, each stamp stronger and harder with every mention of day, week, and month.

“I have heard their words in my mind as I try to drown them out with my own, so I can continue to at least try to write the next scene, the next line of dialogue, the next course of action! Yet, None have voiced even an honest thought about my works to my face when I see them around the city; but instead, I see their BULLSHIT WORDS in the paper for the whole goddess damn world to see!” Serious had been pacing during his rant.

“It has driven me mad not fully understanding why they would not like what I write? Isn’t my work any unique and different from the next? Why me, of all ponies, that has to be on the wrong end of such harsh reviews?”

“It’s just one review, Seri, how bad has-”

“Oh, do we need to delve back to previous publications of the paper? Logical Reads has been sticking his uptight muzzle into my work ever since he made his debut some years back.”

“I wouldn’t know; I took over the press just four years ago so that I wouldn’t have the slightest clue, and that’s the truth. But, from what I can recall of his articles, he is a very critical and picky reader.”

“Exactly! Of course, I’m not the sole target of his powerful critique, and he literally broke the will of a few other writers into poverty because of his articles alone. He only focuses on the publications that really stand out or draw a bigger crowd to the stores. Bigger the target, the bigger the payout. It’s just a harsh reality we all face when it comes to folk like him.”

“And that’s all he is, Seri,” Ink Press slowly walks up to him, as Serious has stopped his pacing, “He is just some bucking asshole with a hardon for trying to squash stories that challenge his point of view, and he just so has a way with words that somehow grant him the power to praise or condemn at his own will.”

“Which in turn grants him access to the silver shower to bathe in bits made on delivering misery to struggling authors like myself!”

“So what, screw him,” She places a comforting hoof on a shoulder, “Seri, You got stuff that can grace the private collections of Royalty; why would a lowly scumbag like Logical bring you down?”

“I don’t know Ink; He has been trying to drag me down for a while. I guess my guard against his nonsense has been slipping as of late.” Seri turns away from her and returns to his seat.

“What’s the point…”

She emitted a sigh and attempted to continue this talk when there was another knock on the door. Both ponies looked over at the door.

"Did someone follow you?" Serious asks, glancing at Ink,

"Not that I am aware of could be another concerned reader?"

Slowly, the beleaguered stallion removes himself from his chair and lazily walks up to the door. Opening it revealed not only the burning sunlight but some figure standing before him. He squints at the pony that stands on his porch.

"Can I help you?" Serious asks, trying to blink through the bright light.

"Is this the residence of Serious Words?" asks the copper-coated stallion.

"It is; who are you if I care to ask, sir?" before the polite earth pony stallion could reply,

“Oh, shit-” both stallions looked to see the Printer stammer,

"Mi-Mister Pen, I had no idea-"

The name sobers Serious, "Pen? As in-"

"Yes, I am Clockwork pen, good sir, and I do believe something has gone terribly wrong with you. If You wish, I would like to enter to discuss with you what has been troubling you." The Stallion smiles warmly.

"uhhhh, S-sure, Why would I leave you outside uninvited, come in, come in!" Serious steps aside as the pony nods as he steps inside the house.

"Hm, I can see the very first worrisome sign of a troubled writer right away..." Observes the new guest as he removes his day coat, depositing it on the hanger.

"Beg your pardon?"

Clockwork steps towards the table, nodding to the surprised Printer, "Miss Press, a pleasure to see you here too."

"Likewise Clockwork, I had no idea you were in town."

"This week has been seeing some pleasant weather, so I decided a venture down the mountain to do some leisure business for the time being," Clockwork pauses to give Serious's desk a glance over before turning back to continue speaking to the printer mare, "As for me being here, I had noticed a particular series has been missing from my weekly mail deliveries."

As he mentions the series, Serious's jaw drops as he looks at Ink Press, gesturing towards Clockwork in disbelief. She gives Serious a confirmation nod.

"Mister Pen, I had no idea y-you read my series."

"Please, Just Clockwork and yes, abstract themes of otherworldly beings that send common tropes into a head spin have always been an interest of mine."

"No way..."

"Indeed," Ink says, "He wrote to me a while back about subscribing to your series after apparently picking it up from somepony else."

"That is true; now I've also got subscriptions to some newspapers, mostly Ponyville and all of Canterlot's districts, which is where my concern arose from."

"The reviews..." Serious Words sighs.

"Exactly, that Logical Reads pony should be kind to rethink his words, for he has spoken different words for similar tales and concepts."

"Really, what do you mean-"

"But first, let's bring life back into this house, am I right?" Clockwork glances towards Ink, who exchanges nods with him.

"Uh-what?"

"I was gonna get to that." Ink shrugs, "that was before you showed up, sir."

"Yes, now," The writer walks from the table, past Serious, then turns facing the two, a gentle glow coming from the gemstone that he wore around his neck, "let's get to it then."

As the gemstone pendant's dull glow brightened some, "May I suggest you shield your eyes Serious, it's gonna get bright in here."

"oh-Uhm, right." Serious looks around, then shut his eyes, covering them with a hoof.

Clockwork Pen looks towards the wall opposite of him as a baby blue aura appears around the curtain that had been long closed. With a gentle nudge of a head, it opens them, the daylight pouring over the table and room around it. Ink Press blinks with the sudden burst of light.

Clockwork turns to open the curtains on both sides of the front door. He then moves over to the doorway towards the kitchen, doing the same with the window over the messy sink. He enters the kitchen to spot any other windows. one facing the street was opened.

He returns to the main room, pausing to think, then trots over to the door next to the desk. It was shut, but he opened it to peer into the bedroom inside.

"hmm." With his pendant still aglow, he nods into the room, the curtains over the bed open, letting sunlight into the room.

"There, that should make a load of difference alone," Clockwork says as the glow from his pendant gently diminishes. Serious slowly reopens his eyes to stand in awe of the difference throughout his house.

"Whoa, I had almost forgotten what my own house looked like..."

"I shall leave it up to you if you want to open your panes for fresh air, but some sunlight should be at least a start of putting life back into you."

"I, uh, thank you."

"Don't mention it. As for the mess, I think there is no rush to get it done for now. However, we should sit and continue discussing your dramatic dilemma." Clockwork nods to the messy table. Each of the present ponies takes a seat. Serious, sitting near his desk, Clockwork is sitting near the front door with Ink taking a seat near where she stood, which is the side facing the kitchen.

"I could offer you at least something for the trouble, but, as you have seen-"

"Oh, don't worry yourself the trouble, Serious. I think we will be too busy working things out even to start a pott. Now, about that review."

Before Serious could say anything, Ink’s dull orange magic illuminates around the paper and levitates it over to Clockwork, who takes the paper. He carefully digs into his vest pocket to procure a pair of blue-tinted glasses. Putting them on, the color on the lenses slowly fades to clear, making them appear like reading glasses. He quietly lays the paper on the tabletop and begins reading quietly.

For some strange reason, Serious fidgets nervously as he glances at him, then over to Ink, who just gives him a shrug with an expression of not sure.

There is a short moment of silence as the writer smiles with a chuckle with the occasional “interesting,” and “Hmm, I see,” then quiets down to let himself finish. The quick reader nods, “The irony of this review.” He pushes the paper away from him, shaking his head, his grin never waning.

“Irony?” Serious asks, “As you can see, Logical picks up on not only my choice of written dialogue but my choice of the main character in my story. I mean, I too have done my research as well read up on the studies of humans, from the mentioned mares in the Column, but yet, he politely knocks on the fact that not only do I try to put the reader into the viewpoint of a human being but other characters as well.”

“Which by the by has been a unique trait of any publication so far.”

“Yeah, of course, not very many stories, put in a first-person perspective, realistically portray characters the way they should be, or the way I see it, which is having a perception of the world based on what the character sees and knows.”

“That actually saves space and paper, unlike the lore-heavy stories that make even the first dense issue of a series as thick as a tome of spells.” Ink interjects as she levitates the paper over to her to reread the article.

“That is true,” Clockwork gestures to her before looking back at Serious, “For example, not every character would be well versed in the history of a particular landmark or know who another character is right off the bat.”

“Exactly, sir, in the real world, you can have three different ponies look at, say, a piece of artwork and ask what they see, and every one of them will have a different response or description depending on the whos and whats of that art piece,” Serious says, shifting in his seat.

“Which, in a sense, fleshes out the world in a more relatable tone. I mean, in an example of your story on review here; Your human has no clue who the goddess of the sun is, but, in the sense of his pony friend, she does, not only does she know who Princess Celestia is, but also knows a ton more lore than he would ever know.”

“You nailed it Clockwork, to make every character somehow knowledgeable of even the basics of say, the culture of Equestria by default, no one will really be unique in the sense of not knowing anything in a particular subject, I mean yes, most folks would know who Celestia is, which city is which and so on; but, take it from the human’s perspective, he is like a newborn foal in our world, learning everything as he goes along.” Serious pauses to think,

“Like say, here's a random example: you have a thief and a barbarian confront a locked door, right? You have two different characters with two unique skill sets; how should the writer go from here? Should the thief bust out his pick set and open the door with no one noticing, or should that mountain of a pony buck down the door swinging like a wild animal into a room full of guards?”

Clockwork nods listening, Serious continues,

“Now, let's say, for some reason, the thief doesn’t feel like picking the lock, he instead hoofs over his expensive lock pick set over to the barbarian saying something along the lines of, ‘you should know how to pick locks, this is an easy one, have at it.’ while the wild animal just gawks at the confusing set of angled wires and pins.”

“Or in the vice versa, the barbarian shoves the battle-ax into the Thief's hoofs saying '' have a swing at the door and get us inside.”.” Clockwork adds.

“Exactly, or later, these two characters are going through the treasury room, the thief knows what he is looking for, like say, only the most valuable gemstones in this entire room will be in the king’s crown because they have been delicately crafted from the Crystaliers during the lost dynasty of the Crystal Empire; while the barbarian just rummages through the first chest he fines because everything is shiny so it must be worth something.”

“Oh-oh! I know this one; the barbarian then trips an obvious trap because he was too busy looting randomly instead of paying attention to his surroundings.” Ink Press lights up as she sets the paper down.

“That’s how it went when I wrote it.” Serious smiles to her, “Now, Clockwork, how would those scenes be if they both somehow knew what to do, knew what they were doing, and knew everything about what was in that treasury even before the adventure began?”

“It would be a very predictable, boring read.”

“Not to mention some of us would be lost in a sea of unnecessary lore or back story that can or will become relevant later when it can be more understandable by the reader.” Ink looks from between the two authors.

“Which brings to my point, folks,” though ragged, Serious appears to be breathing with more life in his face and is progressively becoming more apparent since this discussion began.

“It’s a common trait, that I have seen actually, that characters, like say, one from a faraway land, somehow knows the one secret tunnel that is underneath Canterhorn Mountain with no mentioning how they know, or the lower Canterlot citizen, that previously never been to the capital’s castle, somehow can navigate said castle’s halls without anypony else accompanying them without as much as a hint that they may or may not have gotten lost and just chalk it up to spontaneous luck because of the plot.”

“Or needing three pages of backstory to explain a single reference that isn’t really too noteworthy for the story in the first place,”

“Unless it gets mentioned again later and-or a character naturally asks about it,”

“That sounds reasonable,” Clockwork nods with interest; he gestures for the paper, and Ink uses her magic to pass it once again back to him.

“Now,” He pauses to speed reread the article, “He mentions in the beginning half that some of the character’s dialogue is confusing to read because of their accent. Explain to me, Serious, why would you go out of your way to even write such pseudo-cryptic dialogue?”

“I think it reads better than seeing everyone speaking the same common equestrian with no flaws in their speech.” Ink says she carefully uses her magic to move some of the stacks of books around the table to at least organize things better for everyone present to see each other.

“My thoughts exactly, the most common method, if not borderline lazy writing in my opinion, in making characters speak is simply written their spoken words out normally then tack on some reference of what their accent is like. Mentioning: they say with a Germaneighian accent, what if the reader has never met a pony from Germaneigh and actually heard them try to speak Equestrian in their broken accent? It leaves the reader questioning how those characters sound like unless you know how that actually sounds, it's difficult for a reader to hear the dialogue in that particular accent.”

“So, writing their dialogue out with the accent incorporated helps them stand out more?”

“Not just make them stand out, but indicate that particular character is unique, In the case that Logical is mentioning is a far eastern coastal accent. I mean, yeah, I should have dropped a hint here and there of their accent, but at the same time, why should I double note a character’s speech by writing it out in that accent then say, they spoke with a so-an-so accent?”

“True, it becomes a redundancy to explain, which can slow the story’s pace down.”

“Exactly, it makes the story seem plain and simple when you don’t flesh out the characters more, demonstrating that each character is a unique living being in the story’s world, even using minuscule details like their voice or mannerisms.”

“Yet, Logical Reads has been knocking on your story for the apparent main problem that is trying to start a snowball of criticism against the main focus of your story.”

“The human,” All three voices in the room say flatly.

“For real, though, this has been probably the fourth time I’ve printed a review by him complaining about that.” Ink says as she stands from her seat. During the discussion, she had not only shrunk the stacks of loose books and other random objects but had been absently organizing the shelves and putting other items away.

Serious had noticed and wanted to object but seeing they both had gone out of their way to come over to help him out in the first place. He saw no point in trying to tell her she didn’t need to do some of the light tidying up she was doing anyway. He also couldn’t blame her for not being able to really contribute to the topic at hoof because she isn’t as intellectually sound as he or Clockwork are.

“Which has been the bane of my existence ever since I laid my eyes on the most recent one.” Serious speaks up again with an annoyed sigh, “I swear he is just burying his seething dislike for humans under several layers of other critiques…”

“He could be,” Clockwork peers over the review once more, trying to pull his thoughts together, “But yet, I would like to ask from your point of view. Why use a creature this world hasn’t really seen aside from the detailed accounts from Twilight’s mirror travels or the in-depth hypothetical research of Miss Heartstrings?”

“To use a human in a world where they don’t belong further solidifies the narrative that he is just one outcast living being, trying to survive if not thrive in a world that wants to shun him, to ban him, and even want to kill him. As we can tell with the series so far, he has been painting a different picture when around the few that try to help him out.”

“Very true, yet, as we can also see, there are particular factions that are afraid of his very presence and have been told to try to get rid of him.” Clockwork nods, skimming the page.

“Exactly, just because a creature looks and speaks differently doesn’t mean they are no different than you or me. Imagine if I had used a hippogriff or a minotaur? More than likely, it would still draw the same kind of criticism just it being written by some other hoof than Logical Reads.”

Serious clears his throat,

“It also slowly paints the picture of the basics of harmony, friendship and addresses an issue that is pretty much invisible in this world or any world for that matter.”

“And If I’m not mistaken, the issues surface with Mister Read’s review?”

“In a sense, yeah, but to save face in the eyes of fellow critics, he, as I can see, tries to pick out other details that also stand out to hide the true focus of his criticism.”

“I see. Now, I think we should address one more thing, and that is the choice of perspective. Why tell the story through the eyes of the individual characters instead from an audience perspective, or third-person perspective as we all know it is called.”

“What is there to say? How to have a better experience with a story than to read what a character is feeling, seeing, and thinking. It also is complemented by what the character knows dynamically. I mean, again, for example, that being, have three characters meet a god in person and only two would be bowing respectfully to them because they would know who that is whereas the third wouldn’t because of the opposite.”

“Right, so you feel that portraying even the human in the first person would grant a better experience instead of third?”

“Yeah, I want readers to see a version of our world through the eyes of an outlander. The things we see as normal are alien to him. Trying to use what he knows as references when looking at something, going to unfamiliar places or talking with ponies, all the while being the only representative member of his species.”

“Or at least what’s been hinted at since the last publication.”

Serious grins mischievously, “of course, don’t want to give a whole lot away now, do we?”

Both Clockwork and Serious take a moment to turn in their seats to look at you before turning their attention back to the conversation at hoof.

“So, with that out of the way,” Clockwork folds up the paper before setting it aside.

“I think I owe you some information about Logical Reads in exchange for the sudden interview. By the by, Your series is indeed a work of its own art regardless of who says what.”

“It’s amazing compared to the rash of smuts I’ve been paid to print!” Ink Press interjects briefly from the kitchen. Both colts actually take a moment to notice that she had been busying herself tidying up the room around them, then had migrated into the kitchen.

“By the way, gents, since I’m in here, you sure either of you doesn’t want anything?”

“Uhh, I didn’t expect you to do that, but-”

“-If you wish to do so, Tea would be easy on all of us.”

“-and thank you, by the way!”

“Don’t mention it Seri, someone had to do it, and since there wasn’t much for me to contribute so, I had to busy myself somehow.”

Serious felt a faint punch in the gut, but the awkwardness faded as he took a moment to think it through.

“Besides, I got Folton on the wheel back at the shop, so I’m in no hurry to get back.”

“Either way, we appreciate the kind gesture, Miss Ink,”

“Yeah, Uhm, thank you.”

“So,” Clockwork could only grin as Serious leans onto the table too, ready to listen carefully to what is about to be presented.

“What kind of dirt do you have on Logical Reads?”

“Not necessarily dirt on him, but to simply point out where he has been mistaken and wrong with his critiques.” Clockwork gently taps his hooves together, leaning back in his seat.

“Really? You did say that there was some irony in his own words, so I like to hear what you mean by that.”

“Well, let’s start with the easy one, the perspective.”

“Hmm, has he been saying different things about it?”

“You are close, Serious. I would like to point out that I have been researching him for a while and been observing his behaviors when it comes to various stories that catch his interest.”

“Really? I didn’t think it was right to do so.”

“It is possible to write to a publication to challenge the words written by a critic you disagree with, as long as you keep it clean and polite, of course.”

“Right, so this means there are things that would mark him hypocritical and of them alike?”

“Close, but- when it comes to your story, he states that it is hard to connect with characters because of the first-person perspective. I mean, there is some legitimacy there as not everyone reads a story the same way, but at least be honest about it, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, He has been doing positive reviews on an apocalyptic series that has gained continent-wide fame for many years now, with not only the main plotline but the many spin-offs and off-shoots that exist. And yet, what do most of these stories have in common?”

“I haven’t had time to read any of them, but I know what set you speak of, sir; what is this common trait?”

“The headlining few of this expansive series are printed in the first-person perspective.”

“Seriously?” Serious stands from his chair, “what kind of praise has he been saying about that?”

“Oh, how well written it is, how the characters interact, how each of them is special in their own way, and so on. Could it be that those characters stand out because of the simplicity or because the authors actually do something with them that spark his interest?”

“I wouldn’t know, Clockwork. Yet, he turns on a bit to spout the opposite on what I wrote in terms of character chemistry and so on.”

“Such as it is, he did chime in from time to time that it is hard to read from the corresponding character’s perspective in those stories, but, from my observation on how lightly he puts it, it’s just a way to cushion the blow towards those stories.”

As they spoke, both ponies could smell the odor of the stove being fully lit. A gentle metal clink indicated that she had placed a kettle on a burner. Soon, the sound of cups being washed and cleaned started to emanate from the kitchen.

“Well, so that means he hasn’t been honest about all that he reads, does he?”

“Indeed, there are a few other random stories, you know, about changelings coexisting in the guard, various political upheavals in the kingdom, and so on. There was even one story that sparked a positive review where he simply states adoration for it, yet, the concept is on outlawed magic?”

“Let me guess, how amazingly well written it is?”

“You nailed it, among the many things he points out, Logical boasts continuously in every one of his positive critiques, is how well written the story is. Yet, it doesn’t stop there, want to know another common trait each of these wonderful stories have?”

“The perspective?”

“Oh no, half of those I mentioned already are in the third person. What I’m getting at is that they are all human-free.”

“Ah, so if I had made my series with no humans included, it would be among the list to receive such praise. Correct?”

“Unfortunately, Yes,”

“Son of a bitch…” Serious couldn’t help but slowly pace around his side of the table, “So it does have to do with the fact that I allowed a human to exist in my story’s world is making him turn up his nose to it?”

Clockwork nods.

“Buck! I’m actually kinda glad I don’t really pay that much attention to the reviews page, or it would be causing me more headache to know that he practically sings praise for stories for things that confuse him with the likes of mine!”

“Yes, I know you are starting to simmer, but I also need to point something else out too.”

“What else is there? There is evidence that has practically made it clear that he hates my story because I want to use a species he obviously despises!”

“He has paid to have illustrations made for some of those stories he praises actually.”

“Why tell me this then?!”

“Because the level of dishonesty needs to be shown, now, if you please Seri, have a seat.”

Serious nods in agreement as he takes the seat at his desk but has turned to face Clockwork.

“Many times have I seen the company he turns to for such artwork be very willingly to create and print artwork to be used as illustrations to contribute towards complimenting the pages of various works. Even a completed series has been graced with their artwork for a cover.”

“Are you talking about that Griffon-run illustrator based in the upper districts?” Ink Press peeks into the room.

“Yes, that one.”

“Yeeeah, they don’t come cheap either; in fact, I do recall a big move Logical made to aid that outlaw magic series at one point.” Ink glances behind her, keeping an ear for the pot on the stove.

“Oh please, do tell…” Serious props his head on the hoof, looking very irked at this new information.

“Well, as Mister Clockwork has said already, Logical adored how well done that series has been made (and apparently had the coin to spare) he stepped forward and paid for that Author’s expensive artwork commission from that company which practically gave the author that commission for free.”

“Buuuck, pardon my words, folks, but that is a major flex of big spear energy to pull that off.” Serious awed processing the reality of that fact.

“Meh, probably a way to win both praises from peers and to further have connections with that studio.” Ink shrugs, “I’ve seen this kind of crap all the time, watching authors buy artists to make their stories more colorful. Honestly, more debates between such a crowd would make even the nobles envious of their skill with words.”

There is a faint whistle, and Ink turns back into the kitchen.

“And yet, here I am having had to negotiate and sit down with that particular company, several times, to walk them through my only two commissions with them.”

“Yeah, noticed that,” Clockwork nods, “the cover art for one book and an illustration for a single publication of your series.”

“It wasn’t cheap and as I had mentioned, had to practically sit down with the artists there to work out the details several times over to get them right, yet, they pump out the art of equal quality to other publications with no hassle and I guess, for free in some instances!”

Serious turns in his chair facing his desk to bury his face in his hooves. He opens his eyes onto the cover of his manuscript. With no warning given, his hoof slams onto the desktop.

“BUCK!” the troubled author snaps before burying his head in his hooves, “What's the point then!”

Clockwork didn’t even flinch to the outburst while a startled Ink Press froze in place to watch Serious carefully. Ensure she had to either continue what she is doing or prepare to subdue the disgruntled Stallion with Clockwork’s help.

“The point, Serious, is to know what you are up against and think about what to do next.”

“Like that is an easy thing to do.”

“You will be surprised at how simple that is.”

Serious lifts his head then turns to look at Clockwork,

“How simple can it be? When practically, you put your heart and soul into a piece, then watch it get picked apart week after week, with as much of a minuscule compliment!”

“Well, take a moment to think on this; you are facing what many like you are facing. The odds are not as impossible as you may think. The whole world is trying to stop you from doing what you enjoy, and sure, it’s very shitty right now, but you got one of two choices to make:”

Clockwork then stands from his chair, his stern eyes locked on the writer,

” Either accept and understand what’s against you and get back to work on moving forward.”

” or simply put the quill down and let their negativity devour you whole, granting the naysayers sub-conscious victory over you regardless of your efforts.”

Serious Words sat in Silence; out of this whole discussion today, the stallion had never felt, heard, or thought on such heavy words. Clockwork Pen had indeed struck a strong point.

Ink Press, who had finished preparing things, had even quietly entered the room from the kitchen, setting the tray of tea on the table. She couldn’t tell if the tension was holding or deflating, so she just cleared her throat to get someone’s attention.

“Thank you.” Clockwork nods to her as she takes her seat at the table.

“You,” Serious glances at Ink before looking back at Clockwork, “You speak of experienced wisdom as if you face these impossible odds yourself.”

“There has been a fair share of it in my time, yes. However, in that same amount of time I had to find it in myself to keep moving forward.” As he spoke, Clockwork had walked over to Serious.

“A wise tutor of mine once told me that no matter how often your ideas fail or your creations blow up in your face, just pick up a wrench, or in your case a quill, and keep creating till one day something finally catches the attention of the world.”

As he stands beside Serious, his necklace dimly glows, and the blue magic envelopes the manuscript. Serious notices the magic then snaps a glance over to the manuscript as it floats off the desktop, over the writer, then over to clockwork, who took a few steps back to examine the manuscript floating in front of him.

“Being persistent with your work should prove to yourself that you do have what it takes to keep going. As seen here, this would make twenty chapters, or issues, of this series of yours, and what does that say to you both?” He looks back at Serious then to Ink, who had readied three cups for them.

“You think it’s easy just to get up every morning and work at a rickety ole press? There hasn’t been a day where we don’t end up short a pair of hooves to run it (unlike today) or run out of one material or another to keep it going. It’s harder than you think, but yet, here I am, head printer of one of the biggest publishers in the city.” As Ink spoke, she levitates a cup on a saucer and carefully places them where every pony in the room had been seated.

“Can’t really stop because something breaks or somepone quits, just gotta keep running the whole damn show till Celestia sets the sun.”

“Yeah, but yet, you don’t have nitpicky snobs judging your work daily now, do you?”

“Eh true, at least you don’t have nobles or other high rollin’ investors trying to dictate what you can or can’t do with your own press.”

“What?”

“You see, every single living soul in this city faces their own obstacles, they may all be different in accordance to their way of life, but they each confront their own problems head-on and navigate through them till they achieve success. Either it being finishing another chapter of a popular page-turner or simply letting ignorant complaints wash over you as you keep, keeping on.”

Clockwork glances over to nod a thank you for the tea before looking back at Serious.

“As for you,” he levitates the manuscript gently back into Serious’s hooves, “The proof of your determination despite the criticism is right in front of you.”

Serious glances from Clockwork then at the cover of the manuscript. He had indeed been reading the same thing over and over for days now. Yet, it hasn’t dawned on him that even though the critics' words had resonated loudly in his mind with the only means to silence them had been sitting in front of him the whole time.

Why? Why hasn’t he figured this out sooner?

How could he not have noticed this sooner?

No matter the questions that bubbled in his brain. The writer sat and stared at the manuscript in awed silence while Clockwork had taken to his seat once more at the table to sample the brew in his cup quietly.

“You,” Serious absently thought aloud, “You are right,” He looks up at the two, “I was a fool to believe that even though the likes of Logical Reads had indeed spoken ill but strong words against my writing, I wasn’t going to accomplish anything if somepone like that just kept crying foul to me every time I published something. No, I’m wrong to believe they had stopped me when in truth I had already beaten their criticism with not just my writing, but the will to keep writing!”

“Now you are getting it.” A smile of relief broke across Ink Press’s face, “Buck, what they say, Don’t stop doing what you enjoy doing.”

“Yeah, I had just to keep moving forward.”

“That’s my boy, now where should we go from here?”

Serious stands from his desk then walk over, setting the manuscript on the table as he takes his seat.
“You said you had to take care of something after this Ink?” Serious asks, looking at her

“Yeah, Don’t really feel like kicking the asshole’s teeth down his throat now, but I still gotta let’em know that he screwed up somewhere.”

“Right, I would like to stop by the press to make a drop-off.”

“Well, about bucking time, boy! You know where it is.”

“Would you like to witness this occasion, Clockwork?”

“Of course, I had determined that stopping by to talk to you would help bring you back out into the sunlight.”

“I-well, Thank you Clockwork, I didn’t realize that I was stopping myself from continuing my own progress.”

“That’s all good and all, but at least enjoy the tea, guys,” Ink smirks in between sips, “Before it gets too cold now.”

Serious grins as he looks down at his cup. The once-troubled writer only nods as he contemplates the next big step he is going to make today. He picks it up to enjoy the simple brew that had fermented during this discussion.

After taking a quiet drink of the warm tea, letting the warm, liquid courage go down followed by a quiet, gentle exhale, releasing the soul-crushing anxiety that had once gripped him.

“By the way, Ink, How soon can you and your crew get this published?” he asks, tapping a hoof on the manuscript.

“If my pals in the other presses can spare the paper as soon as tomorrow.”

“Wonderful. Now about the rest of this place.” Clockwork glances around the room before looking back at Serious.

“I’m not too worried about tidying up yet. I want to get this book turned in before anything today.”

“At least take a moment to freshen up before you go,” Ink rolls her eyes at him, “I did not want to comment about the dried ink and dull musk odor earlier.”

Serious blinks, then he checks himself over, “Hm, I may, may not have dried ink splattered on me and just didn’t care to at least wash it off…”

“No worries, I’ve been around burning steam for so long; I tend not to notice the difference between coal smoke and body odor at times.” Clockwork chuckles, “Take your time as I think many will wonder where you have been when we venture out into the town today.”

“I should probably take care of it now at the least, but first.” Serious stands from his chair, lifting his cup high.

“I would like to propose a toast.” Clockwork nods then both he and Ink press stand from their seats. Both had magic enveloping their cups and had floated them close to Serious’s cup.

“To keep moving forward, for not only ourselves but our friends as well and to forces that try to stop us as they too only serve as fuel for our persistent determination.”

“Cheers.” the three say together with a clink of glasses.

Serious brings his cup back down before draining it. Ink drinks all of hers while Clockwork takes his time to finish his as Serious had to get ready.

“Well boys, since trouble has been put to sleep,” She steps up to the front door, grabbing her cap from the hanger, “I’ll be heading back on my way to deal with trouble elsewhere.”

“I wish you luck on fixing that problem, till next time, take care, Miss Press.” Clockwork gives a parting nod as the mare opens the door.

“Thank you, Ink,” Serious peeks out from his bedroom briefly, “I appreciate you coming by.”

“You’re welcome, Seri, now get back to getting ready.” she says back to him before exiting the house, “and Mister Pen, thank you for your help and good day, sir,” she says politely with a smile before closing the door behind her.

After a short time after Ink Press had left, Serious had indeed gotten the wash he really needed in. with that out of the way and a pseudo clean vest on. The Stallion reenters the living room to rejoin his new friend.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,”

“It’s of no worry; I am sure it was a shock to look back at the musky wreck you once were.”

“Oh, you have no idea Clockwork; the idea of ending up like that again only sickens me now.” Serious Words trots over to join Clockwork pen, who had long finished his tea and had cleaned up the cups. He had approached the door as Serious left his bedroom.

“And don’t you forget it, A lesson to remember forever the next time you sit at your desk.” as Serious dawns his darker colored day coat (or thin dress coat). As Clockwork puts his coat back on, He notices something is missing.

“Speaking of forgetting things, isn’t there something you should be taking with us?” He glances over at the desk before at Serious again.

“What am I-oh, that’s right, the trip would be in vain if I had forgotten that. Uhm, one second.” Serious quickly hurries back to his bedroom, collects his saddlebags, and later had the manuscript tucked away in one of the bags.

“There, now we can get this delivered,” Serious says as he opens the front door, letting Clockwork exit first.

Closing the door and locking it behind them; The duo starts to make their way down the street. All the while, Serious breaths in the cleaner air that he apparently was missing for the time he had hidden from the world for sheepishly drowning in self-pity he had put himself through.

The sun was still hanging high in the sky as the creators walked on.

“So, Clockwork, what have you been working on as of late, aside from saving downtrodden folk like myself from despair?”

“Oh, a project of sorts, it has been slow going as of late, but It’s coming along finely. Maybe one day I’ll be able to bring it down and show everypone what a pair of hooves can create.”

“I see...Now, what do you think will happen when this next installment is published?”

“A lot of things Serious; fans will praise the sun for your return, and your foes will only squirm that you are still writing despite their objections and critiques.”

“I see, Uhm, thank you, by the way.”

“Do not thank me, thank yourself for the fact that you chose to listen to not only me and Miss Press but to your own heart. It is a common thing that most creators do not do is think for themselves while thinking what their own conscious heart thinks and feels.”

“And I feel that I got a lot to learn from the likes of you, sir.”

“After today, I think so too.”

With that, the two creators venture into the busy city's depths towards the Press to deliver the Manuscript. All the while catching the eye of passersby that recognize both of them. Yet none would bother them as the long-absent Serious Words had finally reappeared in public, once more back onto his routine of delivering his manuscript himself.

Indeed, Serious Words, as many like him. Face a constant struggle with their chosen art. Either it is nasty words spoken from spiteful critics or the hateful words that would boil in your own mind. Every day, we all face negativity regardless of a person boasting about some magnificent story that can cause you to take it as it is a better creation than your own. Or the inaudible voices that whisper horrible nothings to make you stare at the blank paper or canvas for hours.

Nevertheless, Friends, all we can do is find it in ourselves to silence those words, those voices, and the repeating phrases of “I can’t do this,” or “they will hate this,” and so on. We create because we want to create. Where our creations take us shouldn’t matter as long we enjoy the journey. So, no matter what we want to do, we should take positive and negative feedback as equal compliments towards perfecting our craft.

And that, my friends, Is the point.

Author's Note:

You are probably wondering:
"What the heck brought this into existence?"

simple really, facing the fact that not only have I been letting my procrastination get the better of me every day. Its also been facing Critiques that, after some observations and research, hasn't been all that honest.

To be fair, it really has pushed me to the brink of throwing the hobby away because of exactly what Serious has gone through. I've been thinking way too hard on trying to appease one person or a group of people and it really had run me down to a breaking point. From raging over simple discoveries to pretty much creating this little short.

this short is just to simply put into words how it would be like to pull yourself out of a rotting stupor and back into the swing of things with restored confidence.