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Bon Voyage
Octy,
It's been about a year now, hasn't it? I was moving the couch a month or two back and found one of those day-planners of yours under it. How time flies, right?
I've been keeping up with the same old. Gigs. Putting the laundry off a week longer than I should. Took a trip to Maresachusetts, just out and back. Knock that off my bucket list. Saw the ocean and stuff. You'd have liked it, I think. Old-timey. Some parts weren't so great, but you had a way of looking past those bits.
This summer I tried one of those 'patio gardens' you talked about, but it didn't take off. Stupid squirrels ripped every single plant out of the pots. You'd have had a fit with the mess! I haven't gotten around to cleaning it up yet, but you probably guessed that. It's on my to-do list.
Now, you said not to contact you again, but there's this cello in the living room, and it isn't mine. I can't use it, I can't just leave it, and I can't bring myself to pitch it break it or burn it, so some day here I'm going to have the mailpony come with a coffin of a box and send it back to you. Assuming that this is still your address. I've been avoiding your street, I'll have you know.
If this isn't your address, I guess somepony's going to be a little confused, huh?
Celestia damn
Celestia damn you to Tartarus, Octy, you couldn't even come back for your stupid cello. What was so horrible that you couldn't even manage that?
I trusted you. I cared about you. We were friends, Octy. Close friends. We mattered to one another. Then your dad gets sick, I get stressed, and what? Suddenly you don't trust me? Can't stand me?
"Ponies change," what in Tartarus is that supposed to mean? That has got to be the dumbest, most insulting basis for ending a friendship I've ever heard of. And I'm a musician, so I've heard a lot of stupid, insulting ends. So why? You've had a year to breathe, a year to rewrite your story, a year to
A year to I don't even know what, because I did what you asked, Octy. I stayed away, just like you wanted.
I did what you asked, and I'm still finding your stupid day-planner and there's a cello sleeping on my couch, and I don't even know what happened! You've had a year to find the words, but you're so stubborn that you haven't even tried, have you.
I miss you Octy. I get up an hour to noon, and there's no needling letter reminding me that it's my turn to make dinner. I come back from a gig, and for dinner it's leftovers from any of my lame carry-out last week. I get invited to chill, and I don't trust what they want out of me. They say my music's better than it's ever been.
Take your stupid cello.
V
It's been about a year now, hasn't it? I was moving the couch a month or two back and found one of those day-planners of yours under it. How time flies, right?
I've been keeping up with the same old. Gigs. Putting the laundry off a week longer than I should. Took a trip to Maresachusetts, just out and back. Knock that off my bucket list. Saw the ocean and stuff. You'd have liked it, I think. Old-timey. Some parts weren't so great, but you had a way of looking past those bits.
This summer I tried one of those 'patio gardens' you talked about, but it didn't take off. Stupid squirrels ripped every single plant out of the pots. You'd have had a fit with the mess! I haven't gotten around to cleaning it up yet, but you probably guessed that. It's on my to-do list.
Now, you said not to contact you again, but there's this cello in the living room, and it isn't mine. I can't use it, I can't just leave it, and I can't bring myself to pitch it break it or burn it, so some day here I'm going to have the mailpony come with a coffin of a box and send it back to you. Assuming that this is still your address. I've been avoiding your street, I'll have you know.
If this isn't your address, I guess somepony's going to be a little confused, huh?
Celestia damn you to Tartarus, Octy, you couldn't even come back for your stupid cello. What was so horrible that you couldn't even manage that?
I trusted you. I cared about you. We were friends, Octy. Close friends. We mattered to one another. Then your dad gets sick, I get stressed, and what? Suddenly you don't trust me? Can't stand me?
"Ponies change," what in Tartarus is that supposed to mean? That has got to be the dumbest, most insulting basis for ending a friendship I've ever heard of. And I'm a musician, so I've heard a lot of stupid, insulting ends. So why? You've had a year to breathe, a year to rewrite your story, a year to
A year to I don't even know what, because I did what you asked, Octy. I stayed away, just like you wanted.
I did what you asked, and I'm still finding your stupid day-planner and there's a cello sleeping on my couch, and I don't even know what happened! You've had a year to find the words, but you're so stubborn that you haven't even tried, have you.
I miss you Octy. I get up an hour to noon, and there's no needling letter reminding me that it's my turn to make dinner. I come back from a gig, and for dinner it's leftovers from any of my lame carry-out last week. I get invited to chill, and I don't trust what they want out of me. They say my music's better than it's ever been.
Take your stupid cello.
V
Big mood.
Something I liked:
I'm pretty sure I wrote horse words like this before (in fact I wrote something very similar to this a long time ago), and I gotta, I like what you did with Vinyl's characterization. Usually she's written as a no-fucks-given gent of chaos who likes to mess with others, especially Octavia, but here she's a lot more discontented. One of God's lonely mares indeed. Yes, even though this is a super-angsty mood piece, I like it, because we're given a lot of insight into Vinyl's character and how she both clearly loves and resents Octavia. (I also like to think the rampant spelling errors are the result of her not being good with a pen/quill.)
Something I didn't like:
As much as I like the notion that Vinyl and Octavia are platonic here (at least on the surface), I can't help but feel cheated by a lack of closure. It seems like Vinyl wants to say a lot of things, and a lot of these couldn't be fitted into a minific, so the author left a lot to the imagination. It still feels like there's a lot of meat missing here, though.
Verdict: Fit squarely into the "mood piece" category of minific, but it's better than a lot of its ilk imo.
Something I liked:
I'm pretty sure I wrote horse words like this before (in fact I wrote something very similar to this a long time ago), and I gotta, I like what you did with Vinyl's characterization. Usually she's written as a no-fucks-given gent of chaos who likes to mess with others, especially Octavia, but here she's a lot more discontented. One of God's lonely mares indeed. Yes, even though this is a super-angsty mood piece, I like it, because we're given a lot of insight into Vinyl's character and how she both clearly loves and resents Octavia. (I also like to think the rampant spelling errors are the result of her not being good with a pen/quill.)
Something I didn't like:
As much as I like the notion that Vinyl and Octavia are platonic here (at least on the surface), I can't help but feel cheated by a lack of closure. It seems like Vinyl wants to say a lot of things, and a lot of these couldn't be fitted into a minific, so the author left a lot to the imagination. It still feels like there's a lot of meat missing here, though.
Verdict: Fit squarely into the "mood piece" category of minific, but it's better than a lot of its ilk imo.
Nice:
But it feels incomplete to me since we're only getting Vinyl's side of the story, and she admits that she doesn't know what happened between her and Octavia. There aren't enough clues for me to figure it out, and what's there--Octy's been a year without her cello?--just made things more confusing. I started thinking that maybe Octavia has died, and Vinyl still isn't accepting it even a year later...
One way to approach this sort of thing would be to have Vinyl give us the information we need to piece together what happened even while she herself refuses to add it up. Maybe that's what you've done, in fact, and I'm just too dense to see it. :)
Mike
But it feels incomplete to me since we're only getting Vinyl's side of the story, and she admits that she doesn't know what happened between her and Octavia. There aren't enough clues for me to figure it out, and what's there--Octy's been a year without her cello?--just made things more confusing. I started thinking that maybe Octavia has died, and Vinyl still isn't accepting it even a year later...
One way to approach this sort of thing would be to have Vinyl give us the information we need to piece together what happened even while she herself refuses to add it up. Maybe that's what you've done, in fact, and I'm just too dense to see it. :)
Mike
The best part of this story is really all the little descriptions and details. Things like the patio garden and the cello parked on top of Vinyl's sofa are super evocative, and they do an excellent job of summing up the feelings of a long-term relationship without having to spend the time and wordcount to directly go into the matter. Overall, the hurt on Vinyl's end does come across strongly.
I'm a little less convinced of things on Octavia's side, unfortunately. I know that you're going for this idea where Vinyl doesn't fully understand why Octavia left her, but that has the unfortunate side effect of leaving me wondering why Octavia left her. Not being able to understand the central conflict is a little frustrating, and this frustration kind of leaks into my perception of the piece as a whole.
I'll be honest; I'm not exactly sure how to solve this problem while maintaining the central idea of keeping VInyl confused about why Octavia left. Maybe, you need to redirect focus away from this, although I'm also not sure how exactly do pull this off. Sorry, my suggestions are particularly useless this time around... :(
But regardless, like I said earlier, I did enjoy reading this story very much. Thank you for entering!
I'm a little less convinced of things on Octavia's side, unfortunately. I know that you're going for this idea where Vinyl doesn't fully understand why Octavia left her, but that has the unfortunate side effect of leaving me wondering why Octavia left her. Not being able to understand the central conflict is a little frustrating, and this frustration kind of leaks into my perception of the piece as a whole.
I'll be honest; I'm not exactly sure how to solve this problem while maintaining the central idea of keeping VInyl confused about why Octavia left. Maybe, you need to redirect focus away from this, although I'm also not sure how exactly do pull this off. Sorry, my suggestions are particularly useless this time around... :(
But regardless, like I said earlier, I did enjoy reading this story very much. Thank you for entering!
This is a solid slice of life, though you chose an easy degree of difficulty with the telly letter format. I enjoyed it and I felt things.
I think >>Bachiavellian precisely sums up my opinions. I'd start to wonder if he and I were the same pony, but I'm pretty sure he's a better writer than I am. Also I'm not exactly a 'he', but fewer people care about such things these days.
I think >>Bachiavellian precisely sums up my opinions. I'd start to wonder if he and I were the same pony, but I'm pretty sure he's a better writer than I am. Also I'm not exactly a 'he', but fewer people care about such things these days.
>>Trick_Question
Here it is, folks. The most laughable statement ever made. :P
I'm pretty sure he's a better writer than I am.
Here it is, folks. The most laughable statement ever made. :P
>>Bachiavellian
Seriously?
If you don't realize how good of a writer you are, this is a situation that must be remedied.
Seriously?
If you don't realize how good of a writer you are, this is a situation that must be remedied.
Angst, angst, angst. A very lonely, almost unhinged Vinyl writing things to Octavia that she can't say.
Reading outside the text for once, I am curious whether or not Vinyl mailed this letter. Writing it is one thing, sending it is another.
Back to the text... the nature of the falling out is very skeletal here, to the point that some readers just won't follow. Could be a strength or a weakness -- those who can understand can project themselves into it, but not everyone can relate or will choose to. Because it is light on its own story and tries to hitchhike with the readers' stories, mileage will vary.
Serviceably written, and the epistolary choice is unusual but is rather effective in this case.
Reading outside the text for once, I am curious whether or not Vinyl mailed this letter. Writing it is one thing, sending it is another.
Back to the text... the nature of the falling out is very skeletal here, to the point that some readers just won't follow. Could be a strength or a weakness -- those who can understand can project themselves into it, but not everyone can relate or will choose to. Because it is light on its own story and tries to hitchhike with the readers' stories, mileage will vary.
Serviceably written, and the epistolary choice is unusual but is rather effective in this case.
It's not every day that I like a story written in a letter format. Having read this a few times, I definitely came away liking this more than I don't, no question, mostly because I can visualize the very moment that Vinyl was writing this letter as I read it. I really liked how the first few paragraphs seemed to be just her saying whatever that's on her mind before she finally gets to the point later on and even then, it's like a mishmash of everything she's coming up on the spot. It really gives this story the essence that yes, this letter was written for purposes of writing a letter and not sounding like a story formatted as one, so props.
I do agree with the others that the central conflict that Vinyl seems to be having is a bit too vague. Whether or not it affects my experience with my story negatively, however, I'm still on the fence about. On one hand, I do feel frustrated that we never really get a clear idea of what exactly is the rolling stone that kickstarted this whole mess in the first place. We're given a collage that gives a rough semblance but really nothing concrete. On the other hand, it does seem to me that Vinyl has no clue why Octavia behaved the way she did either, which makes her frustration seamlessly translates into our own. Everything seems so incomprehensible on Octavia's part, yet it is exactly why Vinyl's so livid here. In the end, whether or not this works for someone, I think, depends on their mileage. As for my own, I think I can vibe with this.
Definitely interested to see where you might be taking this, should you plan to.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
I do agree with the others that the central conflict that Vinyl seems to be having is a bit too vague. Whether or not it affects my experience with my story negatively, however, I'm still on the fence about. On one hand, I do feel frustrated that we never really get a clear idea of what exactly is the rolling stone that kickstarted this whole mess in the first place. We're given a collage that gives a rough semblance but really nothing concrete. On the other hand, it does seem to me that Vinyl has no clue why Octavia behaved the way she did either, which makes her frustration seamlessly translates into our own. Everything seems so incomprehensible on Octavia's part, yet it is exactly why Vinyl's so livid here. In the end, whether or not this works for someone, I think, depends on their mileage. As for my own, I think I can vibe with this.
Definitely interested to see where you might be taking this, should you plan to.
Thanks for writing, and good luck!
Surprisingly, I really liked this one. The prose and characterization is absolutely spot on. This one is going pretty high on my slate.
For the first three paragraphs, I wasn't sure if this was about a death or a breakup. The ambiguity sets up a nice payoff of conflicting emotions--the relief that Octavia's still alive paired directly with Vinyl's grief and anger. The shift in tone felt very real to me. This is a good short study in the ways people can hold strong and seemingly contradictory feelings for their loved ones.
Most minifics I read here would benefit from more words to breathe, but this letter format and your execution work well within the confines of the word count. It seems in keeping with Vinyl's character that she would write sparsely and to the point, but in words that pack a powerful punch.
And I'm kind of okay with not knowing why Octavia's gone. Vinyl doesn't know--at least, she claims she doesn't know (big unreliable narrator energy), which does leave us with all sorts of unanswered questions. I would read a story that sets out to pursue some of those answers, and I think it would give us a fairer view of both Octavia and Vinyl. But this piece works for me as a glimpse of a moment in Vinyl's life, complete with all her confusion and despair.
Most minifics I read here would benefit from more words to breathe, but this letter format and your execution work well within the confines of the word count. It seems in keeping with Vinyl's character that she would write sparsely and to the point, but in words that pack a powerful punch.
And I'm kind of okay with not knowing why Octavia's gone. Vinyl doesn't know--at least, she claims she doesn't know (big unreliable narrator energy), which does leave us with all sorts of unanswered questions. I would read a story that sets out to pursue some of those answers, and I think it would give us a fairer view of both Octavia and Vinyl. But this piece works for me as a glimpse of a moment in Vinyl's life, complete with all her confusion and despair.
There are two lines here I want to point out which do some real heavy lifting:
She says this, which is high praise for somepony whose been at the game for a long time, and then immediately throws it away with another plea for Octavia to come back. That speaks volumes about how much she values that friendship, especially when paired with the general mess that is her every day life now. It also subverts a bit of "tortured artist" trope, since she's legitimately willing to be happy again, but can't without compromising her integrity.
This stings, hard, and I can't believe nobody else pointed it out. Octavia is completely within hoof's reach by the sound of it. She's not off in some distant city dealing with things. She's just across town, like she was on a grocery run or something. And Vinyl, bless her heart, has still managed to avoid her for an entire year. What a trooper.
I'm a fan of little lines doing big work, especially in mini rounds, and you tickled that fancy well among the rest of the very-Vinyl writing.
They say my music's better than it's ever been.
She says this, which is high praise for somepony whose been at the game for a long time, and then immediately throws it away with another plea for Octavia to come back. That speaks volumes about how much she values that friendship, especially when paired with the general mess that is her every day life now. It also subverts a bit of "tortured artist" trope, since she's legitimately willing to be happy again, but can't without compromising her integrity.
I've been avoiding your street, I'll have you know.
This stings, hard, and I can't believe nobody else pointed it out. Octavia is completely within hoof's reach by the sound of it. She's not off in some distant city dealing with things. She's just across town, like she was on a grocery run or something. And Vinyl, bless her heart, has still managed to avoid her for an entire year. What a trooper.
I'm a fan of little lines doing big work, especially in mini rounds, and you tickled that fancy well among the rest of the very-Vinyl writing.
So, Bon Voyage... This was an end-of-the-day idea after several other concepts didn't pan out into workable stories, and it might show. Even this is not so much a "story" in the typical sense.
On the balance, it seems that this one achieved everything it was meant to. The lack of closure between Octavia and Vinyl is deliberate; the details suggest just enough of a history and context for the reader to believe that there is substance there, even if readers are craving more to hold on to; some or most readers were able to appreciate little pieces going a long way. To those wanting more closure with Octavia, I hear you, but this story is not meant to be so much about that -- I had hoped to make rather clear that the fight with Octavia is long done, and now the struggle is between Vinyl and herself. The opening paragraphs being ambiguous (did Octy die?) was very much intentional, and is consistent with the science on the psychology of loss and grief: it hurts no matter how the loved one left, and the loved one is still actively alive in one's memory. (The still alive in memory part is exacerbated with the knowledge that Octy is, in fact, elsewhere in the same town and possibly glimpsed on occasion in daily life.)
It is quite probable that this will be added as-is to my minific collection. If anything, the penultimate paragraph will be revised to better suggest what Vinyl is struggling with on a daily basis (versus this weird fixation on dinnertime?)
>>No_Raisin >>Baal Bunny >>Bachiavellian >>Trick_Question >>WritingSpirit >>WillowWren >>Rao
Thank you all for reading and commenting!
On the balance, it seems that this one achieved everything it was meant to. The lack of closure between Octavia and Vinyl is deliberate; the details suggest just enough of a history and context for the reader to believe that there is substance there, even if readers are craving more to hold on to; some or most readers were able to appreciate little pieces going a long way. To those wanting more closure with Octavia, I hear you, but this story is not meant to be so much about that -- I had hoped to make rather clear that the fight with Octavia is long done, and now the struggle is between Vinyl and herself. The opening paragraphs being ambiguous (did Octy die?) was very much intentional, and is consistent with the science on the psychology of loss and grief: it hurts no matter how the loved one left, and the loved one is still actively alive in one's memory. (The still alive in memory part is exacerbated with the knowledge that Octy is, in fact, elsewhere in the same town and possibly glimpsed on occasion in daily life.)
It is quite probable that this will be added as-is to my minific collection. If anything, the penultimate paragraph will be revised to better suggest what Vinyl is struggling with on a daily basis (versus this weird fixation on dinnertime?)
>>No_Raisin >>Baal Bunny >>Bachiavellian >>Trick_Question >>WritingSpirit >>WillowWren >>Rao
Thank you all for reading and commenting!