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A Recursion in Meta-Fanfics (apologies to Arthur C. Clarke)

by pjabrony

Chapter 1: Dear Princess Celestia,


Dear Princess Celestia,

I wish I had a lesson to report to you about friendship. I haven’t. My friends and I continue to grow and learn, but right now I need a lesson in something else.

I’ve always loved books. You know this. Even in Canterlot I surrounded myself with books. And you sent me to run a library? Don’t you know that’s like giving sugar to Pinkie Pie or buying Rainbow Dash her own racetrack? I’ve read all these books, and there are so many more to read, but today I came to a realization.

Every one of these books had an author. Somepony had, for each one, to take pen in mouth (or horn), think out which words to say, and get them on the paper. And there are a lot of them. Even more in the Canterlot library. More still in the rest of Equestria. A lot of books. A lot of authors.

And among them, Twilight Sparkle? Why not? Why can’t I write my own books? Oh, I don’t mean to dive in and start with a half-million-word epic, but a short story can’t be beyond my abilities, can it?

Naturally, I would never start such a project without first researching it. Do you know that there are books that tell you how to write a story? It makes me wonder if the ponies who wrote those books had books to tell them how to write that kind of books. And if they did, then did the ponies who wrote them. . .?

But that way lies madness. I familiarized myself with the rudiments of structure, plot, characterization—and there I hit a snag. I didn’t want to try to create a character on my own. I wanted to take a pony that everypony already knows, so that they’ll be more interested. I wanted to write about a pony that I idolize. I wrote “Princess Celestia and the World Beyond.”

I wrote it. It had words, it parsed into the Equestrian language, but it wasn’t a story that anypony would want to read. All right, I said to myself, it was your first attempt, you can’t expect the world. So I wrote “Princess Celestia Rides Again.” This was even worse. I’m not proud of it. But all right, I said again, maybe the first was beginner’s luck and this was your sophomore jinx. Write story number three.

“Princess Celestia and the Diabolical Conspiracy” was definitely a step forward. So much so that I actually dared to show it off to some other ponies.

A while back I received a dress for the Grand Galloping Gala as a gift. When it was unveiled, I gave a reaction that I heard from the ponies who read story number three. A reaction that says, “This is no good, but I can’t hurt your feelings.”

I had to face the fact that if I was going to be an overnight success as an author, it was going to take a while. And I had to face the possibility that maybe I was never going to write a great story.

But I could write a hundred stories.

I could grind away, hour after hour, day after day, story after story. It’s not so difficult to write a hundred stories. You just write one, and then repeat that a hundred times. And if I did, I would definitely win a distinction. Either I would have a successful story, or I could stand next to the other authors and say, “I put my heart and soul into 100 stories and had 100 flops! Can any of you say that? So I picked up my quill and parchment again. “Princess Celestia Bakes Cookies.” Boring. “Princess Celestia and the Conquest of the Everfree Forest.” Bit off more than I could chew with that one. “Princess Celestia Gets Naughty.” The less said about that, the better.

Then I hit upon it. The idea that would take me to the next level as an author. The one that they would like. The one that would make the rest easier. I had the whole structure in my head, and the words were there too. I would go down in history for “Princess Celestia and the Minotaur’s Labyrinth.”

I got one chapter in.

That was when I realized that every idea that I was going to put in, from the sweeping plot points to some of the most intimate details, had already been covered in a Daring Do book. I can’t write that. I mean, I could write that, but I can’t. It’s territory already covered. You’d understand if you wrote.

I burned the chapter I had written. It seemed easier. And I wish I could say that I was going to quit writing, more than ninety short of my goal. But I know I won’t. I can’t help it. I will go on and write something else. But I need to rest, just for a moment. I put on a mask of being logical and intelligent, but I can get depressed sometimes. I guess I should go see my friends, but what better friend have I had than you?

I don’t know whether to send this letter or just burn it as well. I needed to say all that. I’m not sure you need to hear it.

Your Faithful Student,

Twilight Sparkle


Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Despite the signature, I am not the Princess Celestia that you know. Rather, I am the Princess who was to have gone into the Minotaur’s Labyrinth. I got ahold of your last letter. Don’t ask how. Perhaps Spike sent it wrong, or perhaps you did decide to burn it after all, but there was some magic left in the fire from the chapter you already put in. Or maybe I am the real Celestia, playing a joke on you, and you’ll never find out because I’ll deny it was me.

But all I know is this: if you do not write my story, I will die. Daring Do took on this challenge already. I did not. What was written about her wasn’t written about me. If it never is, then I have no reason for existing. Please, don’t let that happen to me.

Maybe that doesn’t matter. A character in a story doesn’t really have anything to exist for, does she? Nothing in the story really happens, just because you write it, right? But it feels real to me.

We both know what’s supposed to happen at the climax, Twilight. You know how it made you feel when you thought it up, don’t you? That wonderful feeling? Look at me, and tell me that you can stand to not have it happen. You say that you can’t look at me, because I only exist inside you? Precisely correct.

Take your moment. Rest as you need it. But get up afterwards and give me life. Damn Daring Do. Damn a hundred stories. Damn everypony who doesn’t like it. Damn fame and damn going down in history. Write me. Please. Both command and supplication, order and entreaty. Do it. I beg you.

Your Character,

Princess Celestia

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