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Doodles
Cranky Doodle had found his life’s love, Matilda, and learned how to smile after a life spent working in a gristmill upriver a few miles from Ponyville. Sometimes it seemed as though she had descended through the parted clouds of heaven to console him when one of his habits was upset by chance or clumsiness, or to remind him of his better nature when he chided a server. In fact, he had been reintroduced to her thanks to a stranger who had taken a morbid curiosity in him. The whole event had weakened the hold of his prejudices, and, during quiet hours, swelled him with such a sense of awe and serendipity that he began to wonder about his long-lost son, Roofus.
“Are you certain?” asked Matilda, as though she had misheard. “Were you a mule of… worldly enjoyments… when you were younger, Doodle?”
“Not at all. The sexes were carefully divided where I went to school, and kept separate.”
Matilda swilled her teacup. “Oh. Well then, was it another jenny that you were with, before me…?”
“Don’t be silly, dear. I kept my nose down. We were told the jennies were in the mill, though we were all mules in those days, you understand.”
“Why in Equestria do you think you have a long-lost son named Roofus, then?”
He reached over and pet her wrist. “It would be the grandest thing for him to come home and stay with us. Think of it. We could fix the plumbing in the bathroom, and clear those pesky trees in the back so that we would have a better view of the mountains. The septic needs to be dug up, too.”
He went to Ponyville each day in to find someone that would not understand him, but would always return dejected by the rapport and good will that he would meet with there: Carrot Top had once worked in a mill herself, and could commiserate with his waxing physical frailty; in Mayor Mare he encountered a creature who was desperately afraid of aging; and even The Great and Powerful Trixie had known the bitterness of an emotionally avoidant father.
“Blast it!” he scolded himself one night. He whipped a mason jar at a wall in his cabin where mosquitoes were getting in. “Somehow, I’ve turned into the most approachable and quietly compassionate mule in town… I’ll never find my son at this rate.”
He was ready to give up his search, when one afternoon a mare the size of three mares arrived at his doorstep. Her name was Whoa Nelly and she was selling candles on behalf of Nelly Industries, a subsidiary of Pip Incorporated.
They talked about handicrafts, the perks of multi-level marketing, and dresses that might look good on Nelly, for a delicious hour. With each exchange Cranky became more and more convinced that he hadn’t met a pony with whom he shared so little in common, and whose presence he detested so indubitably.
At the end of their conversation, he was nearly in tears of gratitude for her appearance. “The only way I’ll buy one of your candles,” he said, “is if you bring me my long-lost son Roofus.”
The next day she called on him again, this time with Fluttershy in tow.
“Hey… Dad,” the latter said, greeting Cranky Doodle as he opened the door. “Say… Do you think there’s anything more relaxing than the smell of sandalwood, after a long day of hauling cargo…?”
“P’tooey! What kind of fool do you take me for?” said Cranky with sharp indignation. “Why, you aren’t even a stallion!”
“Well… no,” said Fluttershy. “I am not. But I think, maybe, sometimes… if we can just pretend that things are how we’d like them to be… I’m the CEO of my own company, now, you know… isn’t it easier to make friends than move merchandise? Or grain? Perhaps things, though coming up short in reality, will make us a little bit kinder to each other… and isn’t that what makes the world a better place… to begin with?”
A gloom came over Cranky Doodle; he heard Matilda’s lilting voice calling to him from inside.
“Doodle, honey… Who is it?”
He bit down on his lip.
“…Just the wind, dear.”
He closed the door, gazing at them to the last sliver, as though he was shutting a coffin lid.
When he was gone, Fluttershy spun in the air and turned excitedly to her selling partner.
“Oh, this is fun! Um… More candle-selling, please.”
“Are you certain?” asked Matilda, as though she had misheard. “Were you a mule of… worldly enjoyments… when you were younger, Doodle?”
“Not at all. The sexes were carefully divided where I went to school, and kept separate.”
Matilda swilled her teacup. “Oh. Well then, was it another jenny that you were with, before me…?”
“Don’t be silly, dear. I kept my nose down. We were told the jennies were in the mill, though we were all mules in those days, you understand.”
“Why in Equestria do you think you have a long-lost son named Roofus, then?”
He reached over and pet her wrist. “It would be the grandest thing for him to come home and stay with us. Think of it. We could fix the plumbing in the bathroom, and clear those pesky trees in the back so that we would have a better view of the mountains. The septic needs to be dug up, too.”
He went to Ponyville each day in to find someone that would not understand him, but would always return dejected by the rapport and good will that he would meet with there: Carrot Top had once worked in a mill herself, and could commiserate with his waxing physical frailty; in Mayor Mare he encountered a creature who was desperately afraid of aging; and even The Great and Powerful Trixie had known the bitterness of an emotionally avoidant father.
“Blast it!” he scolded himself one night. He whipped a mason jar at a wall in his cabin where mosquitoes were getting in. “Somehow, I’ve turned into the most approachable and quietly compassionate mule in town… I’ll never find my son at this rate.”
He was ready to give up his search, when one afternoon a mare the size of three mares arrived at his doorstep. Her name was Whoa Nelly and she was selling candles on behalf of Nelly Industries, a subsidiary of Pip Incorporated.
They talked about handicrafts, the perks of multi-level marketing, and dresses that might look good on Nelly, for a delicious hour. With each exchange Cranky became more and more convinced that he hadn’t met a pony with whom he shared so little in common, and whose presence he detested so indubitably.
At the end of their conversation, he was nearly in tears of gratitude for her appearance. “The only way I’ll buy one of your candles,” he said, “is if you bring me my long-lost son Roofus.”
The next day she called on him again, this time with Fluttershy in tow.
“Hey… Dad,” the latter said, greeting Cranky Doodle as he opened the door. “Say… Do you think there’s anything more relaxing than the smell of sandalwood, after a long day of hauling cargo…?”
“P’tooey! What kind of fool do you take me for?” said Cranky with sharp indignation. “Why, you aren’t even a stallion!”
“Well… no,” said Fluttershy. “I am not. But I think, maybe, sometimes… if we can just pretend that things are how we’d like them to be… I’m the CEO of my own company, now, you know… isn’t it easier to make friends than move merchandise? Or grain? Perhaps things, though coming up short in reality, will make us a little bit kinder to each other… and isn’t that what makes the world a better place… to begin with?”
A gloom came over Cranky Doodle; he heard Matilda’s lilting voice calling to him from inside.
“Doodle, honey… Who is it?”
He bit down on his lip.
“…Just the wind, dear.”
He closed the door, gazing at them to the last sliver, as though he was shutting a coffin lid.
When he was gone, Fluttershy spun in the air and turned excitedly to her selling partner.
“Oh, this is fun! Um… More candle-selling, please.”
Pics
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I decided to do reviews this round in alphabetical order, and this story is immediately making me regret that decision, because I'm finding it very difficult to make a useful review of this one.
So, let's start simple: there's plenty of editing work to be done here. From stuff like wrong word/wrong tense ("He reached over and pet her wrist"), oddly-constructed sentences (you like long, flowing sentences, which is fine, but sometimes that leads to an irrelevant aside thrown into an otherwise-coherent thought where it really ought to be separated out), word repetition, and a pervasive telliness (probably at least partly a result of wordcount limit, but take a look at paragraph #8: that could be multiple fun scenes, or at least a nice band of dialogue that feels more like part of a story and less like a summary) are all things that could be improved without altering the style or tone you're aiming for.
But more broadly, I must admit that this story leaves me confused as to its broader purpose. Sometimes, this is because the reviewer is dumb or not reading carefully and misses obvious stuff. And sometimes, that reviewer is me! But even if that does turn out the be the case, I think there's value in seeing what seemingly obvious things a reader managed to miss, so let's go:
As far as I can tell, the literal plot is, "Cranky is feeling less grumpy now he's married, so he decides to find his long-lost son so said son can do chores for him and his wife, but said son can for unclear reasons only be found by having someone who makes Cranky miserable bring him back, but when he finally finds somepony he despises, she just brings him Fluttershy and tries to hawk him some candles." Obviously, that's incoherent. Or rather, it's obvious that the sentence I just typed describes an incoherent plot, not that that's your plot, because I'm assuming this is a metaphor. It's just... I can't figure out the metaphor. Is Cranky yearning for his youthful vigor/having a mid-life crisis? That would explain how "Roofus" (his younger self, metaphorically) would help give him the energy to spruce up the house and how he could be brought back by re-creating the feelings of misery that he associates with that period of his life, I guess. But the ending feels totally nonsensical with that interpretation; Cranky getting hung up on Fluttershy's gender, or the story closing on the candle angle, don't make any sense with that interpretation. Is there some other interpretation I'm missing? Probably, but, well, I'm missing it.
So in the end, I'm kind of baffled about what this story is supposed to be about, and that makes it hard for me to speak intelligently about what would improve it. What I can say, though, is that there's some great humor in the way you mix love and hate with contrasts like "Cranky became more and more convinced that he hadn’t met a pony with whom he shared so little in common, and whose presence he detested so indubitably. At the end of their conversation, he was nearly in tears of gratitude for her appearance," and that (ignoring for a moment the stuff I mentioned in the first paragraph) your narration has a pleasantly languid yet evocative quality, even if I'm often not quite sure what it's evoking. There are plenty of good things here to build on, is my point, even if I'm not sure exactly how to help you stack them into the building you're trying to make.
So, let's start simple: there's plenty of editing work to be done here. From stuff like wrong word/wrong tense ("He reached over and pet her wrist"), oddly-constructed sentences (you like long, flowing sentences, which is fine, but sometimes that leads to an irrelevant aside thrown into an otherwise-coherent thought where it really ought to be separated out), word repetition, and a pervasive telliness (probably at least partly a result of wordcount limit, but take a look at paragraph #8: that could be multiple fun scenes, or at least a nice band of dialogue that feels more like part of a story and less like a summary) are all things that could be improved without altering the style or tone you're aiming for.
But more broadly, I must admit that this story leaves me confused as to its broader purpose. Sometimes, this is because the reviewer is dumb or not reading carefully and misses obvious stuff. And sometimes, that reviewer is me! But even if that does turn out the be the case, I think there's value in seeing what seemingly obvious things a reader managed to miss, so let's go:
As far as I can tell, the literal plot is, "Cranky is feeling less grumpy now he's married, so he decides to find his long-lost son so said son can do chores for him and his wife, but said son can for unclear reasons only be found by having someone who makes Cranky miserable bring him back, but when he finally finds somepony he despises, she just brings him Fluttershy and tries to hawk him some candles." Obviously, that's incoherent. Or rather, it's obvious that the sentence I just typed describes an incoherent plot, not that that's your plot, because I'm assuming this is a metaphor. It's just... I can't figure out the metaphor. Is Cranky yearning for his youthful vigor/having a mid-life crisis? That would explain how "Roofus" (his younger self, metaphorically) would help give him the energy to spruce up the house and how he could be brought back by re-creating the feelings of misery that he associates with that period of his life, I guess. But the ending feels totally nonsensical with that interpretation; Cranky getting hung up on Fluttershy's gender, or the story closing on the candle angle, don't make any sense with that interpretation. Is there some other interpretation I'm missing? Probably, but, well, I'm missing it.
So in the end, I'm kind of baffled about what this story is supposed to be about, and that makes it hard for me to speak intelligently about what would improve it. What I can say, though, is that there's some great humor in the way you mix love and hate with contrasts like "Cranky became more and more convinced that he hadn’t met a pony with whom he shared so little in common, and whose presence he detested so indubitably. At the end of their conversation, he was nearly in tears of gratitude for her appearance," and that (ignoring for a moment the stuff I mentioned in the first paragraph) your narration has a pleasantly languid yet evocative quality, even if I'm often not quite sure what it's evoking. There are plenty of good things here to build on, is my point, even if I'm not sure exactly how to help you stack them into the building you're trying to make.
![](/static/avatar/0/0c/0c-217-5efcd7fd.png)
What >>Chris said:
I can't say that I have any idea what's going on here, either. I'd suggest jettisoning all the Roofus stuff and have the story be about Cranky moved to tears when he meets Whoa Nelly and learns that he can still hate others even with all the happiness he's fallen into. But it definitely needs some more work.
Mike
I can't say that I have any idea what's going on here, either. I'd suggest jettisoning all the Roofus stuff and have the story be about Cranky moved to tears when he meets Whoa Nelly and learns that he can still hate others even with all the happiness he's fallen into. But it definitely needs some more work.
Mike
![](/static/avatar/default.jpg)
As I understand the story, Cranky takes the lesson from Pinkie's intervention that unexpected good things have to come to him via ponies he personally dislikes, discovers to his disappointment that his character growth has made him get along with nearly everyone, is relieved to discover that the MLM pony sucks enough to hate her, and then is disappointed to discover that in fact this formula doesn't work when she tries to pass off Fluttershy as his son and Fluttershy tries to justify the whole setup with a fairly nonsensical moral. That's not literally incoherent - Cranky's actions follow from his beliefs, and his belief in a loose sense follows from his experiences - but it does require Cranky to be kind of a psychologically bizarre alien. I'm not sure if this is meant to be a sort of lolrandom comedy that just doesn't match my sense of humor, or if I'm just missing the point entirely.
![](/static/avatar/default.jpg)
Have you ever met an old man who is too immersed in his own worldview? Cranky is that in this story, and this impression of mule-like stubbornness is carried through well.
Go find your son, Cranky! He is your candle in the darkness
Go find your son, Cranky! He is your candle in the darkness
![](/static/avatar/4/42/42-1630-8b2705a7.png)
This was a great round, and I was really impressed by both the respectfulness and the analytical rigor of the participants. It was very useful for me, anyway; though it seems, like Celestia, that I read my own prophecy when I came back from the future to offer support to Chris (I also happen to be a 'Chris'!").
>>Chris
>>Baal Bunny
>>Rubidium
>>Forcalor
In this story, Matilda has passed.
How do we know? (How are we supposed to know?)
A few allusions to death: how she "descends from parted clouds", and how Cranky shuts the door on his guests "like a coffin lid".
The big clue is supposed to be Fluttershy's encomium to MLM and how it gets us motivated, sometimes, to pretend; followed by Cranky hearing Matilda's voice "lilting, from inside."
The point is not to trick the reader but to have them engage with the subject without preconceptions. Being so subtle is risky, and in this case, was not executed skillfully enough.
Straightaway I would remove Fluttershy's last line, first because the touch of dark humor adds too many layers to what is happening, and second because one has to be careful with irony, generally (it's a double-edged sword in terms of reader rapport).
So:
Matilda has died, and Cranky wants to repeat his happiest moment. He invents a son to this end, which constitutes his inner monologue. His visits to Ponyville only tell him about himself: physically weak, afraid of aging, etc. He is in an absurd situation. His charade is exposed by an insufferable solicitor, who is herself roped in a scheme. Amiable Fluttershy points this out to him in an innocent way, and he winds up with quite a different message from that in "A Friend In Deed".
I have thought about having Matilda in the dialogue slipping in something along the lines of, "The Lord giveth", but with less scriptural overtone.
Thanks to everyone who read and commented, and to Groaning for once again providing artwork--you, sir, are a prince.
>>Chris
>>Baal Bunny
>>Rubidium
>>Forcalor
In this story, Matilda has passed.
How do we know? (How are we supposed to know?)
A few allusions to death: how she "descends from parted clouds", and how Cranky shuts the door on his guests "like a coffin lid".
The big clue is supposed to be Fluttershy's encomium to MLM and how it gets us motivated, sometimes, to pretend; followed by Cranky hearing Matilda's voice "lilting, from inside."
The point is not to trick the reader but to have them engage with the subject without preconceptions. Being so subtle is risky, and in this case, was not executed skillfully enough.
Straightaway I would remove Fluttershy's last line, first because the touch of dark humor adds too many layers to what is happening, and second because one has to be careful with irony, generally (it's a double-edged sword in terms of reader rapport).
So:
Matilda has died, and Cranky wants to repeat his happiest moment. He invents a son to this end, which constitutes his inner monologue. His visits to Ponyville only tell him about himself: physically weak, afraid of aging, etc. He is in an absurd situation. His charade is exposed by an insufferable solicitor, who is herself roped in a scheme. Amiable Fluttershy points this out to him in an innocent way, and he winds up with quite a different message from that in "A Friend In Deed".
I have thought about having Matilda in the dialogue slipping in something along the lines of, "The Lord giveth", but with less scriptural overtone.
Thanks to everyone who read and commented, and to Groaning for once again providing artwork--you, sir, are a prince.