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Go Fish!
That evening, if somepony had managed to sneak into the Ponyville schoolhouse, they would have seen a pink cherry earth-pony, a pen in her mouth, and her eyes focused on a stack of paper. They would have watched her smile with the same smile at every sheet, no matter the letter she would wrote on the top right corner. They would have seen how the twilight was underlying the first wrinkles of a life dedicated to care about others. But nopony was there, as the bell had rung for hours, and every foal and filly had long come back home.
What was the purpose of staying if the class was over?
They would have also heard a sigh as Cheerilee, the only one but still favorite schoolteacher nonetheless, put the stack of papers inside her saddlebags before leaving the school, humming a melancholic tune to herself. A music lover would recognise a famous pavan, in which a stallion glorified his love for a noble mare who had taken his life.
What would not be recognizable as a part of the song was the quiet but audible sniffs that were coming from the river. Because Cheerilee was a mare of care, she followed the sound, and, soon enough, she found that one of her student hadn’t come home like the others.
“Good evening, Snails,” she said while sitting next to him.
“Hi Mrs Cheerilee,” he replied without turning his head. His eyes were locked on his fishing rod.
“I didn’t know you fished,” she said.
“I don’t,” said Snails, his eyes still on his fishing rod. “I don’t like that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“That’s because of the rod you say that, right?”
“Well, that’s kind of a big clue. With the rod, we could think you are indeed fishing.”
“No, no, that’s only a rod with a string. And a pebble at the end, to stretch the string.”
“Because it’s important that the string is stretched?”
“Yes of course, or else it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Right, of course…”
Silence came, but Cheerilee knew it wouldn’t last, not with Snails.
“I don’t know how to explain,” said the young pony, “but it calms me… Some ponies sing, others trot. I do that… At least, I don’t hurt anypony.”
“No, not even the fishes.”
“Sometimes I think about them, and I wonder if they are a bit perturbed by all this or not… Maybe they don’t take it well, that a pony tries to bait them with a pebble… They must say ‘He really thinks we are stupid’... Whatever they think, I don’t really care. I don’t come for them.”
“Why do you come here then, Snails?” The foal shrugged. “You don’t know?”
“Well, I’m not sure if I should tell you.”
Knowing her student, Cheerilee simply waited for her student to carry on.
“You see,” he said, “it’s kinda to do like adults, like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes. I’ve always seen grown ponies, staring at the horizon before figuring out stuff, and I thought that I should try too. Figuring out stuff, I mean.”
“And what do you want to figure out?”
“I don’t really know; a lot of things I guess. I’m retarded so there are a lot of things I don’t get… The fishing rod helps me. I imagine the pebble in the water, and I feel like I belong to a whole: me, the pebble, the rod, the river, the sky… It forms something big, something coherent… It makes sense.”
“It makes sense, unlike Grasshopper.” Her student finally turned his head. Cheerilee had never seen him so lost. “I don’t understand Mrs Cheerilee, when I found him in the garden, my parents told me we would be best friends forever, like with Snips. But one day, they told me he left for a better world. And I don’t understand, what can be better than being with your best friend? Will Snips leave me too?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly. “I don’t know.”
That evening, if somepony had walked by the river, they would have seen the schoolteacher and a young unicorn, each one holding a fishing rod in their hoof. They would have noticed how peaceful they seemed to be, only exchanging a word from time to time. But nopony walked this path this late, and it’s only when the Sun had disappeared that the two fisherponies came home, with only the beginning of an answer. And they didn’t need much more.
What was the purpose of staying if the class was over?
They would have also heard a sigh as Cheerilee, the only one but still favorite schoolteacher nonetheless, put the stack of papers inside her saddlebags before leaving the school, humming a melancholic tune to herself. A music lover would recognise a famous pavan, in which a stallion glorified his love for a noble mare who had taken his life.
What would not be recognizable as a part of the song was the quiet but audible sniffs that were coming from the river. Because Cheerilee was a mare of care, she followed the sound, and, soon enough, she found that one of her student hadn’t come home like the others.
“Good evening, Snails,” she said while sitting next to him.
“Hi Mrs Cheerilee,” he replied without turning his head. His eyes were locked on his fishing rod.
“I didn’t know you fished,” she said.
“I don’t,” said Snails, his eyes still on his fishing rod. “I don’t like that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“That’s because of the rod you say that, right?”
“Well, that’s kind of a big clue. With the rod, we could think you are indeed fishing.”
“No, no, that’s only a rod with a string. And a pebble at the end, to stretch the string.”
“Because it’s important that the string is stretched?”
“Yes of course, or else it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Right, of course…”
Silence came, but Cheerilee knew it wouldn’t last, not with Snails.
“I don’t know how to explain,” said the young pony, “but it calms me… Some ponies sing, others trot. I do that… At least, I don’t hurt anypony.”
“No, not even the fishes.”
“Sometimes I think about them, and I wonder if they are a bit perturbed by all this or not… Maybe they don’t take it well, that a pony tries to bait them with a pebble… They must say ‘He really thinks we are stupid’... Whatever they think, I don’t really care. I don’t come for them.”
“Why do you come here then, Snails?” The foal shrugged. “You don’t know?”
“Well, I’m not sure if I should tell you.”
Knowing her student, Cheerilee simply waited for her student to carry on.
“You see,” he said, “it’s kinda to do like adults, like you.”
“Like me?”
“Yes. I’ve always seen grown ponies, staring at the horizon before figuring out stuff, and I thought that I should try too. Figuring out stuff, I mean.”
“And what do you want to figure out?”
“I don’t really know; a lot of things I guess. I’m retarded so there are a lot of things I don’t get… The fishing rod helps me. I imagine the pebble in the water, and I feel like I belong to a whole: me, the pebble, the rod, the river, the sky… It forms something big, something coherent… It makes sense.”
“It makes sense, unlike Grasshopper.” Her student finally turned his head. Cheerilee had never seen him so lost. “I don’t understand Mrs Cheerilee, when I found him in the garden, my parents told me we would be best friends forever, like with Snips. But one day, they told me he left for a better world. And I don’t understand, what can be better than being with your best friend? Will Snips leave me too?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted reluctantly. “I don’t know.”
That evening, if somepony had walked by the river, they would have seen the schoolteacher and a young unicorn, each one holding a fishing rod in their hoof. They would have noticed how peaceful they seemed to be, only exchanging a word from time to time. But nopony walked this path this late, and it’s only when the Sun had disappeared that the two fisherponies came home, with only the beginning of an answer. And they didn’t need much more.
I really enjoy the quiet, contemplative feel of this story. I love how understated the connection between Cheerilee and Snails is, and how Snails's own method of contemplating the universe mirrors Cheerilee's choice to stay at school well past the closing bell, the implication that the latter is her own equivalent of Snails's not-quite-fishing.
(It's also about Cheerilee, and we've well established that I have a soft spot for her)
That said, I have some qualms about the style and presentation -- the "if somepony had looked at Cheerilee, they would have seen _____, _____, and heard _____ mounting ______ in a reverse ______ fashion whilst playing the ______ and eating _____-flavored pizza rolls." It bogs down the prose, which already kinda suffers from being overwritten and wordy in some places. Case in point:
I'm also not sure about Snails referring to himself as "retarded," which feels way too on-the-nose for my tender (dare I say, posh?) sensibilities.
I still think there's a lot of charm in this story, though. Middle-tier, and a pleasant read. :)
(It's also about Cheerilee, and we've well established that I have a soft spot for her)
That said, I have some qualms about the style and presentation -- the "if somepony had looked at Cheerilee, they would have seen _____, _____, and heard _____ mounting ______ in a reverse ______ fashion whilst playing the ______ and eating _____-flavored pizza rolls." It bogs down the prose, which already kinda suffers from being overwritten and wordy in some places. Case in point:
the only one but still favorite schoolteacher nonetheless,
I'm also not sure about Snails referring to himself as "retarded," which feels way too on-the-nose for my tender (dare I say, posh?) sensibilities.
I still think there's a lot of charm in this story, though. Middle-tier, and a pleasant read. :)
A lot of the prose and dialogue in this one didn't really have a natural feel to me. Certain things just feel off or awkward about the phrasing, causing the sentences to trip on themselves. I think these stylistic issues were a factor in preventing me from really feeling the logic in the explanation Snails offers - the presentation doesn't feel intuitive and natural, which carries over into underlying feel of the characters and their expression.
I think the concept is there, but it's held back by the execution. Try to clean this up; make it flow with more natural prose and realistic dialogue and clarify how it uses the prompt, which was another point of weakness - the river element is there, but not much is significant in the way of lies.
I think the concept is there, but it's held back by the execution. Try to clean this up; make it flow with more natural prose and realistic dialogue and clarify how it uses the prompt, which was another point of weakness - the river element is there, but not much is significant in the way of lies.
So, we start off with the ceaseless teacher leaving late and bumping into a student doing some wee baby child soul searching. 100% on board. Snails then absolutely backhands my immersion out of the story and into the stratosphere:
It's incredibly abrupt, and it feels really unnecessary to justify his general confusion and being contemplative in an unusual fashion. He's a kid. They do weird shit almost by definition, and coming to terms with death is a rite of passage every kid has to go through.
Maybe I'm over sensitive because I work with kids, including special needs classes. At any rate, that authorial choice notwithstanding, Snails and Cheerilee interact well. Sometimes all an adult can do is be a comfort while a kid figures things out on their own. The opening and ending "if someone walked by [...]" make for almost fable-esque bookends, though I agree that they could be a little cleaner.
>>Winston
The fishing pole is kind of a lie to the fish. Maybe to the universe, too?
I’m retarded so there are a lot of things I don’t get
It's incredibly abrupt, and it feels really unnecessary to justify his general confusion and being contemplative in an unusual fashion. He's a kid. They do weird shit almost by definition, and coming to terms with death is a rite of passage every kid has to go through.
Maybe I'm over sensitive because I work with kids, including special needs classes. At any rate, that authorial choice notwithstanding, Snails and Cheerilee interact well. Sometimes all an adult can do is be a comfort while a kid figures things out on their own. The opening and ending "if someone walked by [...]" make for almost fable-esque bookends, though I agree that they could be a little cleaner.
>>Winston
The fishing pole is kind of a lie to the fish. Maybe to the universe, too?
There are three major issues I have with this story. This first is Snails being distractingly verbose and all around OOC. I can’t imagine him ever using the word “coherent,” at least not correctly, or talking philosophically about being part of a whole. (If the intent is to make him seem smarter, why bother in a story where he doesn’t understand the concept of death yet?)
The second is the overuse of the whole “if someone looked, they would have seen x” stuff. That was covered above by Posh, so I’ll be brief. I think it would have worked much better if it were only used once in the opening and once in the ending. As it is right now, it sort of drags the story down by forcing the reader to view Cheerilee from a detached perspective the whole time instead of being at least partly inside her head.
The third (and most minor) is the format. If one character is speaking continuously without interruption, you will almost never need to make a new paragraph mid-dialogue. Doing so only confuses the reader as to who is speaking at the moment.
The second is the overuse of the whole “if someone looked, they would have seen x” stuff. That was covered above by Posh, so I’ll be brief. I think it would have worked much better if it were only used once in the opening and once in the ending. As it is right now, it sort of drags the story down by forcing the reader to view Cheerilee from a detached perspective the whole time instead of being at least partly inside her head.
The third (and most minor) is the format. If one character is speaking continuously without interruption, you will almost never need to make a new paragraph mid-dialogue. Doing so only confuses the reader as to who is speaking at the moment.
>>Posh
>>Winston
>>Rao
>>2Merr
It's true that I tend to make long sentences, adding a lot of clauses to the main part, in order to add subtlety and also to establish a slow pace that is suppose to slowly burn, and in this entry, I decided to focus on this particular aspect, but I understand that this may not be everyone's likings, especially because, if not properly punctuated or even balanced, the whole structure collapses on its own weight, and you end up with something messy, sticky, and, in the end, not really readable for your audience, which you should always treat with great care.
Ayway, dully noted. I'll shorten my sentences from now on and stop trying to make complex structures. It seems I'm still far away from being able to do that.
>>Rao
I worked with kids for a few years and the sentence "I’m retarded so there are a lot of things I don’t get" is true, I've heard it from one of the kids. It was in French so maybe "retarded" isn't the exact translation, but it wasn't a nice word or a circumlocution. I swear you don't know what to answer to that.
>>2Merr
Indeed, it's not something you often see, but it exists, and if I only take my time in the Writeoff round, I've already seen it several times, mainly to show that the speaker took a brief pause, like taking his breath. Moreover, I made Snails repeating the sentence in order to clear any doubts as for who is speaking.
Thanks for the feedback, I'll use some of it when reworking it before publishing.
>>Winston
>>Rao
>>2Merr
It's true that I tend to make long sentences, adding a lot of clauses to the main part, in order to add subtlety and also to establish a slow pace that is suppose to slowly burn, and in this entry, I decided to focus on this particular aspect, but I understand that this may not be everyone's likings, especially because, if not properly punctuated or even balanced, the whole structure collapses on its own weight, and you end up with something messy, sticky, and, in the end, not really readable for your audience, which you should always treat with great care.
Ayway, dully noted. I'll shorten my sentences from now on and stop trying to make complex structures. It seems I'm still far away from being able to do that.
>>Rao
I worked with kids for a few years and the sentence "I’m retarded so there are a lot of things I don’t get" is true, I've heard it from one of the kids. It was in French so maybe "retarded" isn't the exact translation, but it wasn't a nice word or a circumlocution. I swear you don't know what to answer to that.
>>2Merr
If one character is speaking continuously without interruption, you will almost never need to make a new paragraph mid-dialogue. Doing so only confuses the reader as to who is speaking at the moment.
Indeed, it's not something you often see, but it exists, and if I only take my time in the Writeoff round, I've already seen it several times, mainly to show that the speaker took a brief pause, like taking his breath. Moreover, I made Snails repeating the sentence in order to clear any doubts as for who is speaking.
Thanks for the feedback, I'll use some of it when reworking it before publishing.