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Cheerilee’s Ordinary Evening
Cheerilee swallowed the last dollop of her pudding. She put the fork and the spoon in the plate, then carried the tableware to the kitchen and let it crash into the sink. She briefly contemplated the idea of washing up right away, but chucked it.
She felt pooped. She needed a slug.
She turned round, picked up a glass and an old bottle of brandy from the cupboard and walked back to the living room. She put them on the end table and slumped into the sofa. Almost reflexively, she took the remote and turned the TV on.
Yuck, she thought. As usual, only shit. Did she care about the umpteenth retelling of the Nightmare Moon incident, or the hornball match between Canterlot and Ponyville? No. She clicked the remote and the TV went black.
She looked around her: boring colours, stupid furniture, ugly canvases, icky pictures, useless gewgaws. Beyond the corridor, in the bedroom, she took a glance of her bed. Double bed. She giggled. So stupid! How long since she’d last spent the night with a stallion? How long since she’d last had sex? She couldn’t keep the tally. Her private life was a total failure. She would retire and blow her brains out the very next day.
She filled the glass with brandy and sipped it. She felt the burning beverage trickle into her throat, down her oesophagus to her stomach. It was warm and pleasurable. Like the last time she’d given—
Her gaze fell on the heap of papers that lay half-scattered over the end table. Oh crap! ‘Write about what you’d like to do when you’re a grown-up’, she’d asked. She’d promised she’d grade the papers before tomorrow. Reluctantly she leaned and took the first one. No byline. She’d wanted them anonymous, just to add extra fun. It wasn’t difficult to tell which was whose. She’d just hoped the pupils would write bolder things if their identity was masked.
When I’m older, I want to help my sister at the farm. Because I love the animals… apples… blah blah blah. Apple Bloom’s one track mind. She scanned the rest of the paper, and her gaze fell on the brandy bottle. Yeah, growing apple trees makes sense, after all. She scribbled a B+, and went on to the second paper.
This turned out to be a letdown. Many kids wanted to be what their parents or older siblings were. Sweetie Belle wanted to work in the fashion industry. Diamond Tiara wanted to be rich. Silver Spoon wanted to become a noble mare and go live in Canterlot.
This was so predictable.
Cheerilee knocked back the dregs left in the bottle, sighed, and took hold of the last paper.
She half-smiled when she saw a blue pegasus scribbled on it. No need to ask whose paper this was, nor what it was likely to be about. She began reading.
When I’m grown-up, I want to be like you, a teacher. What?! This was so unexpected Cheerilee almost startled in her couch. She carried on reading. You know, I look up to Rainbow Dash, but I know I will never be like her. She’s my role model, but I have to prove her I can be as good as her in my own way.
I thought it would be nice to be a teacher because I love to help other ponies find what they like to do the most. That’s what you do, miss Cheerilee. You teach us things: sometimes we don’t like them, sometimes we do, and then one day you make us discover something we love. And we realise that’s what we would like to do later. It’s like, you know, presenting us with a lot of possibilities, explaining each one and letting us decide what we like best. You help us define ourselves, and I think this is the best job in the world, and that’s why I’d like to do the same when I’m older!
Miss Cheerilee I love you. You’re the best tea– An unexpected droplet landed smack on the word, smearing the ink. Cheerilee sniffled. The paper slept from her hooves and whiffled down on to the floor. She curled up on her couch, and let the tears flow and flow, until they were spent.
Then slumber took her, a bright smile on her face.
She felt pooped. She needed a slug.
She turned round, picked up a glass and an old bottle of brandy from the cupboard and walked back to the living room. She put them on the end table and slumped into the sofa. Almost reflexively, she took the remote and turned the TV on.
Yuck, she thought. As usual, only shit. Did she care about the umpteenth retelling of the Nightmare Moon incident, or the hornball match between Canterlot and Ponyville? No. She clicked the remote and the TV went black.
She looked around her: boring colours, stupid furniture, ugly canvases, icky pictures, useless gewgaws. Beyond the corridor, in the bedroom, she took a glance of her bed. Double bed. She giggled. So stupid! How long since she’d last spent the night with a stallion? How long since she’d last had sex? She couldn’t keep the tally. Her private life was a total failure. She would retire and blow her brains out the very next day.
She filled the glass with brandy and sipped it. She felt the burning beverage trickle into her throat, down her oesophagus to her stomach. It was warm and pleasurable. Like the last time she’d given—
Her gaze fell on the heap of papers that lay half-scattered over the end table. Oh crap! ‘Write about what you’d like to do when you’re a grown-up’, she’d asked. She’d promised she’d grade the papers before tomorrow. Reluctantly she leaned and took the first one. No byline. She’d wanted them anonymous, just to add extra fun. It wasn’t difficult to tell which was whose. She’d just hoped the pupils would write bolder things if their identity was masked.
When I’m older, I want to help my sister at the farm. Because I love the animals… apples… blah blah blah. Apple Bloom’s one track mind. She scanned the rest of the paper, and her gaze fell on the brandy bottle. Yeah, growing apple trees makes sense, after all. She scribbled a B+, and went on to the second paper.
This turned out to be a letdown. Many kids wanted to be what their parents or older siblings were. Sweetie Belle wanted to work in the fashion industry. Diamond Tiara wanted to be rich. Silver Spoon wanted to become a noble mare and go live in Canterlot.
This was so predictable.
Cheerilee knocked back the dregs left in the bottle, sighed, and took hold of the last paper.
She half-smiled when she saw a blue pegasus scribbled on it. No need to ask whose paper this was, nor what it was likely to be about. She began reading.
When I’m grown-up, I want to be like you, a teacher. What?! This was so unexpected Cheerilee almost startled in her couch. She carried on reading. You know, I look up to Rainbow Dash, but I know I will never be like her. She’s my role model, but I have to prove her I can be as good as her in my own way.
I thought it would be nice to be a teacher because I love to help other ponies find what they like to do the most. That’s what you do, miss Cheerilee. You teach us things: sometimes we don’t like them, sometimes we do, and then one day you make us discover something we love. And we realise that’s what we would like to do later. It’s like, you know, presenting us with a lot of possibilities, explaining each one and letting us decide what we like best. You help us define ourselves, and I think this is the best job in the world, and that’s why I’d like to do the same when I’m older!
Miss Cheerilee I love you. You’re the best tea– An unexpected droplet landed smack on the word, smearing the ink. Cheerilee sniffled. The paper slept from her hooves and whiffled down on to the floor. She curled up on her couch, and let the tears flow and flow, until they were spent.
Then slumber took her, a bright smile on her face.
I like the core idea here a lot, but some of the execution swings so wildly in tone that it makes it a little hard to not get lost along the way. Maybe that's good in a writeoff though? Better to be obvious than subtle, etc. But still, Cheerilee is so burnt out at the beginning that she verges on being unpleasant rather than sympathetic. I think you need her to be frustrated and unfulfilled but not like actively misanthropic.
The Scootaloo letter part is the best, but it's so saccharine that it really feels jarring given how you've started the story--the beginning is so cynical that it's harder for the reader to accept Scootaloo's words at face value and not look at them in a jaded way too. I think if you were to lean in either direction more, your story would be more cohesive: actually make this a dark piece, or cut back on Cheerilee's cynicism. As it is, it's more of two good half-stories that are working against one another.
(I still liked this more than I thought I would at first though)
The Scootaloo letter part is the best, but it's so saccharine that it really feels jarring given how you've started the story--the beginning is so cynical that it's harder for the reader to accept Scootaloo's words at face value and not look at them in a jaded way too. I think if you were to lean in either direction more, your story would be more cohesive: actually make this a dark piece, or cut back on Cheerilee's cynicism. As it is, it's more of two good half-stories that are working against one another.
(I still liked this more than I thought I would at first though)
This story overplays its hand twice, first by depicting Cheerilee as being in a suicidal rut, then by swinging to the opposite extreme in the end. The portrayal of Cheerilee is genuinely funny, if clicheic, but the letter at the end leaves me wondering what, exactly, I'm supposed to take away here.
I give it an "eh."
I give it an "eh."
if this is her "ordinary evening" does this mean she repeats this every single night?
I did catch the prompt connection here, clever. but I agree that the tone clashes too much. it's almost like that fantasy scene in Christmas Story.
I did catch the prompt connection here, clever. but I agree that the tone clashes too much. it's almost like that fantasy scene in Christmas Story.
This is a pretty dramatic piece, and it touches on a lot of issues I know very well (grading, and killing myself).
I had problems with 'TV' and 'gun' and 'liquor', because the first two of those at the very least mean 'EQG'. But then it ends up not being EQG (which is a big surprise), and I have to reconcile what I'm reading with Ponyville and am left wondering if there are details in the author's mind that I'm missing.
Bucking horse Jesus! That came out of, like, nowhere. It's a bit uncharacteristic to put suicidality after contemplating one's sex life, because a lack of sex (rather than relationships and close supportive friendships) isn't usually what drives us to kill ourselves.
Seriously though, this is a horrible epiphany and needs a little warning. It also doesn't jive with the rest of the story. Why would she bother grading the papers? I can only guess she's 'kidding' but it does not come off that way. It reads as dead serious, and the happiness at the end is far too much contrast for this (which other reviewers have commented on).
This quibble is of no import, but I think most people don't start esophagus with the extra 'o', and even for a teacher it seems too formal for the theme of the fic.
I had problems with 'TV' and 'gun' and 'liquor', because the first two of those at the very least mean 'EQG'. But then it ends up not being EQG (which is a big surprise), and I have to reconcile what I'm reading with Ponyville and am left wondering if there are details in the author's mind that I'm missing.
She would retire and blow her brains out the very next day.
Bucking horse Jesus! That came out of, like, nowhere. It's a bit uncharacteristic to put suicidality after contemplating one's sex life, because a lack of sex (rather than relationships and close supportive friendships) isn't usually what drives us to kill ourselves.
Seriously though, this is a horrible epiphany and needs a little warning. It also doesn't jive with the rest of the story. Why would she bother grading the papers? I can only guess she's 'kidding' but it does not come off that way. It reads as dead serious, and the happiness at the end is far too much contrast for this (which other reviewers have commented on).
This quibble is of no import, but I think most people don't start esophagus with the extra 'o', and even for a teacher it seems too formal for the theme of the fic.
This one's pretty straightforward. Same stuff everyone else said: the emotional melodrama is way too strong, swinging straight from depressed, suicidal, vulgar and unsympathetic to tooth-rotting sweet candy hearts. I left feeling like Cheerios was going to go to work in the morning and be all right... but she might switch up her curriculum to how to pour a drink and give a blowjob.
The base concept here is very simple, and in order for it to shine, I think some subtlety is required, the opposite of where this actually went. How does she feel about her students, other than in relation to herself? Does she care about them? Genuinely want them to succeed? Is there something specific that has her feeling down? Hard to suggest specifics, but what we have here, I think, is less of a poor execution than the execution showing how this might not have been the best direction in the first place.
I say that because I actually like a lot of the moment to moment execution! In a different piece or genre, grizzled slob Cheerilee might be a joy to read about. Anyway, good hustle, thanks for writing!
The base concept here is very simple, and in order for it to shine, I think some subtlety is required, the opposite of where this actually went. How does she feel about her students, other than in relation to herself? Does she care about them? Genuinely want them to succeed? Is there something specific that has her feeling down? Hard to suggest specifics, but what we have here, I think, is less of a poor execution than the execution showing how this might not have been the best direction in the first place.
I say that because I actually like a lot of the moment to moment execution! In a different piece or genre, grizzled slob Cheerilee might be a joy to read about. Anyway, good hustle, thanks for writing!
Interrupting my reading after the third paragraph.
All these three are basically "Cheerilee did this, she did this and this. Then she did this, and this. She did this. She did this. She did this, she did this, and she did this."
The repetition is 'a bit' too much. Try to vary your sentences.
The reading is done, same for the comments.
I'll heavily echo the others about the lack of subtlety in this one. I don't mind the mood switch between the beginning and the ending, however, it needs to be more subtle in order to work. Cheerilee is too depressed.
Moreover, the part about her sex life is also pretty straightforward. Instead of:
You could have something like:
The same goes for the ending. Shedding a tear before Scootaloo's paper is great, but having her fully crying is once again too much.
That being said, the core of the story is great and touching. This is something I can relate to, having taught kids. Rework this, focusing on subtlety and you'll have something that will shine.
Thank you for sharing.
All these three are basically "Cheerilee did this, she did this and this. Then she did this, and this. She did this. She did this. She did this, she did this, and she did this."
The repetition is 'a bit' too much. Try to vary your sentences.
The reading is done, same for the comments.
I'll heavily echo the others about the lack of subtlety in this one. I don't mind the mood switch between the beginning and the ending, however, it needs to be more subtle in order to work. Cheerilee is too depressed.
Moreover, the part about her sex life is also pretty straightforward. Instead of:
How long since she’d last spent the night with a stallion? How long since she’d last had sex?
You could have something like:
How long since she’d last spent the night with a stallion? How long since she’d felt the strong, warm embrace of a lover? When was the last time she had been able to let everything go and just feel loved?
The same goes for the ending. Shedding a tear before Scootaloo's paper is great, but having her fully crying is once again too much.
That being said, the core of the story is great and touching. This is something I can relate to, having taught kids. Rework this, focusing on subtlety and you'll have something that will shine.
Thank you for sharing.
Lightning Review: Extremes of emotion and narrative add up to something effective but needing polish.
Tier: Needs Work
Tier: Needs Work
MLP may be one of the few franchises where you really need to distinguish which version of the setting it takes place in. This reads pretty heavily as EQG right up until near the end where it turns out it isn't, which requires a sudden shift of mental picturing.
Beyond that, the emotional whiplash here is hard. The arc itself is fine, but you need to moderate it on one end or the other. Either Cherry needs to be slightly less horrifically depressed (a good deal of it having to do with her personal life rather than professional - I realize you can have crossed successes, but it is weird that there isn't much focus on her career until it is totally relevant) or her positive reaction needs to a bit more muted.
Beyond that, the emotional whiplash here is hard. The arc itself is fine, but you need to moderate it on one end or the other. Either Cherry needs to be slightly less horrifically depressed (a good deal of it having to do with her personal life rather than professional - I realize you can have crossed successes, but it is weird that there isn't much focus on her career until it is totally relevant) or her positive reaction needs to a bit more muted.
The core idea of Scootaloo's essay cheering up Miss Cheerilee is good.
Where this story goes awry is in execution.
First off, some of the features (in particular, the TV) are problematic; AFAIK, Equestia doesn't have television, which made me think this was an Equestria Girls thing for a bit, before it wasn't. I wonder if, perhaps, it might be better suited for such? In the end, set-pieces like this are meant to help establish the scene, but here it ended up being a distraction for me.
Secondly, the story has a bad case of tonal whiplash; it is okay for the story's mood to change, but this story felt kind of crude up to a point, and then veers off into fluff, which is just weird. Part of it is also that the story doesn't really feel like it sticks together; it would be stronger if we saw how her being a teacher tied into her loneliness, which would make Scootaloo's paper be more redemptive.
Thirdly, I didn't really feel like Scootaloo's paper quite worked well enough at what it did, and I think it would have been better if it hadn't been immediately identified as Scootaloo's paper and got Cheerilee's attention because Cheerilee wasn't expecting it, and then did a double take and tried to figure out who wrote it. It also just felt kind of telly in the prose surrounding it.
Where this story goes awry is in execution.
First off, some of the features (in particular, the TV) are problematic; AFAIK, Equestia doesn't have television, which made me think this was an Equestria Girls thing for a bit, before it wasn't. I wonder if, perhaps, it might be better suited for such? In the end, set-pieces like this are meant to help establish the scene, but here it ended up being a distraction for me.
Secondly, the story has a bad case of tonal whiplash; it is okay for the story's mood to change, but this story felt kind of crude up to a point, and then veers off into fluff, which is just weird. Part of it is also that the story doesn't really feel like it sticks together; it would be stronger if we saw how her being a teacher tied into her loneliness, which would make Scootaloo's paper be more redemptive.
Thirdly, I didn't really feel like Scootaloo's paper quite worked well enough at what it did, and I think it would have been better if it hadn't been immediately identified as Scootaloo's paper and got Cheerilee's attention because Cheerilee wasn't expecting it, and then did a double take and tried to figure out who wrote it. It also just felt kind of telly in the prose surrounding it.