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Wish I Weren't There
It's a wicked life, isn't it, Trixie?
You'd like a different life, wouldn't you?
One with everything in place.
The shelves lined with success.
The pictures framed with gold.
The memories fond.
And the friendships strong.
The lights, the sounds, the colors, the shapes.
The theatrics and the pomp.
It's what you want.
So I'll do my best to act the part.
With your hat in hoof, you moved.
And turned it upside down.
With a smile hollowed out, a plume of smoke rose up.
And for a second I reached my hoof out.
And you stepped back.
I can't blame you, Trixie.
You are flesh and bone.
Just like all of us.
You have your fears and doubts.
Which you rarely let slip out.
However, it comes off in your display.
To everypony else, it's clear as day.
No matter what you do it won't make up for what you did.
Whatever was lost, it will be impossible to recover it.
And I know I've felt the same way.
It's a wicked life, isn't it?
Filled with both the good and bad.
Yet, doesn't it feel like the scales were tipped long before you?
The shades of giants in your place, standing face to face with your insecurity.
The gifted and the wise that you grew only to despise.
And being one of them, I can't amend this gap between us.
When I try to help, I can see what it says on your face.
"This abyss is too great."
I feel like I make it a lot worse, too.
After what I've done, standing tall and above it all.
Acting like I have any more idea than you about any of this.
Playing the instructor without comprehension.
While being forgiven for anything.
And you're blamed for everything.
It feels almost like you were meant to be crushed.
Made to believe in love.
Built to break.
I will say it:
I am still your friend.
Which is why I came to your caravan.
Admittedly, I was too ashamed to see you.
So I looked in through the window.
And collapsed there, in that chair, you yawned.
Eyes closing, your horn broke out in sparks.
Illusive shadows running across the inside of your small wooden box.
And formed tiny effervescent holograms of us.
From there, the two began to move.
Dancing in little circles around and around.
Open mouths, touching hooves.
Smiling and laughing.
Over and over.
Forever.
You'd like a different life, wouldn't you?
One with everything in place.
The shelves lined with success.
The pictures framed with gold.
The memories fond.
And the friendships strong.
The lights, the sounds, the colors, the shapes.
The theatrics and the pomp.
It's what you want.
So I'll do my best to act the part.
With your hat in hoof, you moved.
And turned it upside down.
With a smile hollowed out, a plume of smoke rose up.
And for a second I reached my hoof out.
And you stepped back.
I can't blame you, Trixie.
You are flesh and bone.
Just like all of us.
You have your fears and doubts.
Which you rarely let slip out.
However, it comes off in your display.
To everypony else, it's clear as day.
No matter what you do it won't make up for what you did.
Whatever was lost, it will be impossible to recover it.
And I know I've felt the same way.
It's a wicked life, isn't it?
Filled with both the good and bad.
Yet, doesn't it feel like the scales were tipped long before you?
The shades of giants in your place, standing face to face with your insecurity.
The gifted and the wise that you grew only to despise.
And being one of them, I can't amend this gap between us.
When I try to help, I can see what it says on your face.
"This abyss is too great."
I feel like I make it a lot worse, too.
After what I've done, standing tall and above it all.
Acting like I have any more idea than you about any of this.
Playing the instructor without comprehension.
While being forgiven for anything.
And you're blamed for everything.
It feels almost like you were meant to be crushed.
Made to believe in love.
Built to break.
I will say it:
I am still your friend.
Which is why I came to your caravan.
Admittedly, I was too ashamed to see you.
So I looked in through the window.
And collapsed there, in that chair, you yawned.
Eyes closing, your horn broke out in sparks.
Illusive shadows running across the inside of your small wooden box.
And formed tiny effervescent holograms of us.
From there, the two began to move.
Dancing in little circles around and around.
Open mouths, touching hooves.
Smiling and laughing.
Over and over.
Forever.
I don't know how much this fic actually benefits from its formatting. It gives it a poetic vibe, which is then carried further by the bits of rhythm and rhyme. It's an airy read, nice enough to be inoffensive but not tight enough to entice me. A few lines could do with re-wording, like the line "Whatever was lost, it will be impossible to recover it." I can't put my finger on it, but it doesn't have the right amount of... poetry, I suppose.
Interesting attempt, but it didn't feel like you went far enough into the realm of poetry and instead flinched before making the jump. That said, the writing is still strong and evocative, it just feels a little too thin, if that makes sense. There isn't enough binding from line to line.
Also, I assume this is Starlight narrating after having that spat with Trixie a little after they first met.
Also, I assume this is Starlight narrating after having that spat with Trixie a little after they first met.
Like the others, I'm wondering who the narrator is supposed to be. Some lines suggest it's Starlight, but others contradict and say it's Twilight, while others again suggests it could be a fourth party.
That's a shame because the rest is great. I've started to like Trixie since her reformation with Starlight (seriously, No Second Prances has the best meme faces) and this entry delves her character a little more. But without a solid grasp on who's talking, this falls just short from being a top slater.
Thank you for sharing nonetheless.
That's a shame because the rest is great. I've started to like Trixie since her reformation with Starlight (seriously, No Second Prances has the best meme faces) and this entry delves her character a little more. But without a solid grasp on who's talking, this falls just short from being a top slater.
Thank you for sharing nonetheless.
This is a tough one to interpret. I think I'm slightly more convinced that this is Twilight speaking, but I can also see it as Starlight. Why doesn't this have a huge debate like that entry about the bug wings? There's evidence either way, and this might be another similar case where even if the truth isn't certain, what's more important is which version makes for the more interesting story.
Is it about Starlight feeling an unspoken gap between her and Trixie, despite their close relationship? Though they seem to understand each other very well, trying to overcome a past "wicked life", Starlight seems to keep getting the better end of the deal while Trixie continues suffering. Starlight sees resentment and self-deprecation in Trixie's actions.
Or is it about Twilight, seeing how her path diverged from Trixie's much further back in the past. Twilight seemed to have every good privilege line up for her, while Trixie is falling into a spiral of forever despising her rival. Maybe in another timeline they could've been friends, and not opposite sides of a coin. And this is where the title comes in, if lucky Twilight hadn't existed, maybe none of this bad luck would've been dumped on Trixie.
there's a few hints here and there, like "instructor" or "forgiven" or "still a friend" or "gifted and wise" which could apply to either pony in different amounts. it's a wash.
Getting back to that in a second, there's something about the flashy style of this writing. I don't know if it's considered a free-verse poem or anything like that, but it does have this clear effect when I read it, like each sentence is carefully considered and crafted, each line delivered with clear solemnity. Kinda self-important of the narrator, sure. Whether it's pretentious or not depends on how it's used to serve the story.
The style creates this feeling of great distance from Trixie. Sympathetic, yet talking down to her. and this really creeps me out if I read it as Starlight's voice, because it feels so unfitting for her. It's not the voice of a pony who was once quite close to her and wishes to heal the wounds that opened between them. The distant tone of the piece makes me think of Twilight, someone who never was (and never will be) close to Trixie, and expresses that sorrow. Again, I think the title is steering the story in this direction. It's not Starlight feeling a mix of warmth and coldness over her shared time with a friend, it's about Twilight feeling that she's caused nothing but pain to Trixie. If it can never be repaired, she wishes she was never there, for Trixie's sake.
I say it's Twilight. Even though both interpretations make for great emotional stories, the Twilight one is amplified by the style powerfully, while Starlight's is too dissonant. I like to believe it's an author's deliberate decision, not a lucky accident.
Is it about Starlight feeling an unspoken gap between her and Trixie, despite their close relationship? Though they seem to understand each other very well, trying to overcome a past "wicked life", Starlight seems to keep getting the better end of the deal while Trixie continues suffering. Starlight sees resentment and self-deprecation in Trixie's actions.
Or is it about Twilight, seeing how her path diverged from Trixie's much further back in the past. Twilight seemed to have every good privilege line up for her, while Trixie is falling into a spiral of forever despising her rival. Maybe in another timeline they could've been friends, and not opposite sides of a coin. And this is where the title comes in, if lucky Twilight hadn't existed, maybe none of this bad luck would've been dumped on Trixie.
there's a few hints here and there, like "instructor" or "forgiven" or "still a friend" or "gifted and wise" which could apply to either pony in different amounts. it's a wash.
Getting back to that in a second, there's something about the flashy style of this writing. I don't know if it's considered a free-verse poem or anything like that, but it does have this clear effect when I read it, like each sentence is carefully considered and crafted, each line delivered with clear solemnity. Kinda self-important of the narrator, sure. Whether it's pretentious or not depends on how it's used to serve the story.
The style creates this feeling of great distance from Trixie. Sympathetic, yet talking down to her. and this really creeps me out if I read it as Starlight's voice, because it feels so unfitting for her. It's not the voice of a pony who was once quite close to her and wishes to heal the wounds that opened between them. The distant tone of the piece makes me think of Twilight, someone who never was (and never will be) close to Trixie, and expresses that sorrow. Again, I think the title is steering the story in this direction. It's not Starlight feeling a mix of warmth and coldness over her shared time with a friend, it's about Twilight feeling that she's caused nothing but pain to Trixie. If it can never be repaired, she wishes she was never there, for Trixie's sake.
I say it's Twilight. Even though both interpretations make for great emotional stories, the Twilight one is amplified by the style powerfully, while Starlight's is too dissonant. I like to believe it's an author's deliberate decision, not a lucky accident.
>>Haze
That's an interesting compare and contrast, and worth talking about, because that's at the heart of why I think that Cymothoa Exigua is a stronger story. With that one, the question under debate is the nature of the horror -- and since it's a horror story, and the unseen thing in the dark is scarier than the monster in the light, that ambiguity enhances (even if unintentionally) what the piece is going for. At the very least, not knowing the answer to that question doesn't stand in the way of the piece's power and meaning: we can still read it as a tale about a protagonist undergoing terrifying and poorly understood changes, and the disconnect between the abstract horror of the experience and the naivete of the protagonist seeing it as the answer to a wish.
Here, though, the meaning of the piece is tied up in the question of who the narrator is. If this is Starlight, canonically Trixie's bestie, then this is a tragedy about Trixie being isolated even from her closest friends. If this is Twilight, this is an entirely different tragedy, about Trixie -- who might very well be happy -- being examined by an unreliable narrator who can't get through to her and is caught up in their own thing. I don't know who to feel sorry for!
I'm also not sure the formatting here pulls its own weight. Others have talked about it as a splitting-the-difference-between-poetry-and-prose effect, but this is straight-up prose, just clipped prose that relies on short, punchy sentences for emphasis.
The problem is, it's like taking a highlighter and highlighting every single line on a page -- if everything is emphasized equally, then nothing is, it's just presented in a way that makes it a fatiguing read. In a previous round somewhere, Cold in Gardez (I think?) had a great analysis of how the contrast of short and long paragraphs could draw attention to specific parts of your writing; I wish I had an easy link. The tl;dr was that the sort of abbreviation you're doing here is like a punch to the face; save it for when you want the reader to remember a specific line or get hit by a particular moment.
So, yeah. In between the reading fatigue of that repeated short-sentence face-punching and my struggle to find the emotional core of the piece amid the narrator ambiguity, I'm afraid this particular experiment didn't land for me. Still, I commend you for trying something different; that's how we push our boundaries and grow.
Tier: Needs Work
This is a tough one to interpret. I think I'm slightly more convinced that this is Twilight speaking, but I can also see it as Starlight. Why doesn't this have a huge debate like that entry about the bug wings?
That's an interesting compare and contrast, and worth talking about, because that's at the heart of why I think that Cymothoa Exigua is a stronger story. With that one, the question under debate is the nature of the horror -- and since it's a horror story, and the unseen thing in the dark is scarier than the monster in the light, that ambiguity enhances (even if unintentionally) what the piece is going for. At the very least, not knowing the answer to that question doesn't stand in the way of the piece's power and meaning: we can still read it as a tale about a protagonist undergoing terrifying and poorly understood changes, and the disconnect between the abstract horror of the experience and the naivete of the protagonist seeing it as the answer to a wish.
Here, though, the meaning of the piece is tied up in the question of who the narrator is. If this is Starlight, canonically Trixie's bestie, then this is a tragedy about Trixie being isolated even from her closest friends. If this is Twilight, this is an entirely different tragedy, about Trixie -- who might very well be happy -- being examined by an unreliable narrator who can't get through to her and is caught up in their own thing. I don't know who to feel sorry for!
I'm also not sure the formatting here pulls its own weight. Others have talked about it as a splitting-the-difference-between-poetry-and-prose effect, but this is straight-up prose, just clipped prose that relies on short, punchy sentences for emphasis.
The problem is, it's like taking a highlighter and highlighting every single line on a page -- if everything is emphasized equally, then nothing is, it's just presented in a way that makes it a fatiguing read. In a previous round somewhere, Cold in Gardez (I think?) had a great analysis of how the contrast of short and long paragraphs could draw attention to specific parts of your writing; I wish I had an easy link. The tl;dr was that the sort of abbreviation you're doing here is like a punch to the face; save it for when you want the reader to remember a specific line or get hit by a particular moment.
So, yeah. In between the reading fatigue of that repeated short-sentence face-punching and my struggle to find the emotional core of the piece amid the narrator ambiguity, I'm afraid this particular experiment didn't land for me. Still, I commend you for trying something different; that's how we push our boundaries and grow.
Tier: Needs Work
>>horizon
That's a funny way to spell "girlfriend."
While evocative and sweet (especially if you subscribe to the interpretation that this is Glimmyglam speaking), it doesn't take advantage of the format it's going for enough to make it stand out. The vagueness of the POV character, too, holds it back.
Eight bags of salted nuts out of a possible ten.
If this is Starlight, canonically Trixie's bestie
That's a funny way to spell "girlfriend."
While evocative and sweet (especially if you subscribe to the interpretation that this is Glimmyglam speaking), it doesn't take advantage of the format it's going for enough to make it stand out. The vagueness of the POV character, too, holds it back.
Eight bags of salted nuts out of a possible ten.
I'm not sure if there's anything to say that has not been said already.
But, I will say that I liked it.
Tier: Pretty good.
But, I will say that I liked it.
Tier: Pretty good.
Being not quite sure of the narrator (I agree with the general consensus of Starlight or Twilight, and I lean towards Twilight? I think?) causes serious problems with this, as it does, in little ways, change the nature of the narrator's relationship with Trixie and how the lines on the page are read.
The format here doesn't really add anything and I think, in places, actually detracts as the flow ends up pointlessly stilted. This is not to say you can't have good stilting, just that this stilting doesn't actually seem to happen in a particularly meaningful way.
The format here doesn't really add anything and I think, in places, actually detracts as the flow ends up pointlessly stilted. This is not to say you can't have good stilting, just that this stilting doesn't actually seem to happen in a particularly meaningful way.
Oooh, me likey. Strong voice, great imagery. I don't feel the need to know who the narrator is, but I can see how a lot of people would be bothered by the question. Still a great read.
Marginalia is a work of art and I'm super pleased it took first. Great work, CiG!
I actually don't like haikus all that much, but Haze, yours were amazingly comfy and very enjoyable to read. Fantastic job.
There was no way Statuesque couldn't have won. That poem was far too fun to fail. Simply beautiful, Pasco.
I'll leave my final thoughts on the other stories throughout the day.
Thank you to everyone who read my entry and took the time to comment! I actually was planning on not entering this one due to the fact that both I and a friend of mine I had shown ahead of time felt the story was both weak and confusing. However, I was unable to pull another story out of my ass, so I just bit the bullet and published this one. And I'm glad I did! This was the first time I've ever made it into the finals! And the first time I've received the "most controversial" award, haha.
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Dolfeus Doseux
I was attempting to bridge the gap of poetry and prose here, and I did it very poorly. It probably would have helped in my endeavor if I'd actually listened to the discussion on poetry that inspired all the poems this round instead of just jumping right to this the instant I heard poetry was a hot topic.
>>Fenton
>>Haze
I wrote the story with the intention of it being able to be read from any of three angles: Starlight talking to Trixie, Twilight talking to Trixie, or Trixie talking to herself. How well I managed to play these off is up for debate still, I suppose. the strongest argument can be made for the Starlight theory, and it's how I wrote the poem at first. However, after a few rereads before submission I threw in some caveats that I hoped made the direction of the story a bit more diverse.
>>horizon
You're also right though. I'm completely baffled as to how this ended up getting into the finals because it really is held back by the vagueness within. This is only about 410 words long, so there's easily room to insert a few choice lines that strengthen the story significantly. While I would have loved as much of a heated debate over this story to the caliber Cymothoa enjoyed, the fact of the matter is Cymothoa is a stronger story that benefits from the mystery, while this is a weaker story that as a poem is already nebulous as fuck and doesn't really need further obfuscation.
And as for the format... yeah, the highlighter comparison is a really good one. I tried to be poignant and punchy—but if every line is poignant and punchy there's no comparison or contrast. I was trying to write it like a song, and as such I had a specific tune in mind when I wrote the lines. Needless to say, I am not a songwriter.
I do enjoy one thing I screwed around with in this story: the rhyme structure between lines. If I try and polish this story up, I'm definitely going to stick to that format. However, I'm still agreeing with what you've said: it's very hit and miss and ends up sapping some of the overall poignancy of the story.
And that takes us right to >>Posh and >>AndrewRogue
How would you suggest I take advantage of the format? In what way would I stilt the flow in order to increase impact? I have a general idea but I'm still pretty clueless, so I'm more than happy to take any suggestions either of you might have to offer.
>>MLPmatthewl419
>>PaulAsaran
I'm very glad you both liked it, it was really heartwarming to see people who really enjoyed the story despite its glaring and obvious flaws, as most of the comments essentially reflected what I was thinking about and obsessing over before I submitted it.
I actually don't like haikus all that much, but Haze, yours were amazingly comfy and very enjoyable to read. Fantastic job.
There was no way Statuesque couldn't have won. That poem was far too fun to fail. Simply beautiful, Pasco.
I'll leave my final thoughts on the other stories throughout the day.
Thank you to everyone who read my entry and took the time to comment! I actually was planning on not entering this one due to the fact that both I and a friend of mine I had shown ahead of time felt the story was both weak and confusing. However, I was unable to pull another story out of my ass, so I just bit the bullet and published this one. And I'm glad I did! This was the first time I've ever made it into the finals! And the first time I've received the "most controversial" award, haha.
>>Not_A_Hat
>>Dolfeus Doseux
I was attempting to bridge the gap of poetry and prose here, and I did it very poorly. It probably would have helped in my endeavor if I'd actually listened to the discussion on poetry that inspired all the poems this round instead of just jumping right to this the instant I heard poetry was a hot topic.
>>Fenton
>>Haze
I wrote the story with the intention of it being able to be read from any of three angles: Starlight talking to Trixie, Twilight talking to Trixie, or Trixie talking to herself. How well I managed to play these off is up for debate still, I suppose. the strongest argument can be made for the Starlight theory, and it's how I wrote the poem at first. However, after a few rereads before submission I threw in some caveats that I hoped made the direction of the story a bit more diverse.
>>horizon
You're also right though. I'm completely baffled as to how this ended up getting into the finals because it really is held back by the vagueness within. This is only about 410 words long, so there's easily room to insert a few choice lines that strengthen the story significantly. While I would have loved as much of a heated debate over this story to the caliber Cymothoa enjoyed, the fact of the matter is Cymothoa is a stronger story that benefits from the mystery, while this is a weaker story that as a poem is already nebulous as fuck and doesn't really need further obfuscation.
And as for the format... yeah, the highlighter comparison is a really good one. I tried to be poignant and punchy—but if every line is poignant and punchy there's no comparison or contrast. I was trying to write it like a song, and as such I had a specific tune in mind when I wrote the lines. Needless to say, I am not a songwriter.
I do enjoy one thing I screwed around with in this story: the rhyme structure between lines. If I try and polish this story up, I'm definitely going to stick to that format. However, I'm still agreeing with what you've said: it's very hit and miss and ends up sapping some of the overall poignancy of the story.
And that takes us right to >>Posh and >>AndrewRogue
How would you suggest I take advantage of the format? In what way would I stilt the flow in order to increase impact? I have a general idea but I'm still pretty clueless, so I'm more than happy to take any suggestions either of you might have to offer.
>>MLPmatthewl419
>>PaulAsaran
I'm very glad you both liked it, it was really heartwarming to see people who really enjoyed the story despite its glaring and obvious flaws, as most of the comments essentially reflected what I was thinking about and obsessing over before I submitted it.