Okay, white space. No one likes white space, so let’s imagine a character. Say, Twilight Sparkle. Say hi, Twilight.

“Hi!”

Hi, Twilight. Twilight looks around, eyebrow raised. “There doesn’t appear to be anything here.”

That’s because I haven’t set forth a scene.

“Oh, okay. I’ll let you take your time, then.” Twilight does inconsequential things as I try to come up with the setting...

Ah, yes. Ponyville market.

Twilight looks around and hums. “Ah, I like where this is going.” Several ponies stare at Twilight as she looks around again, confused.

“What? I was just talking to—”

The voice in your head? You’re the only character I can interact with.

Twilight’s cheeks turn crimson as she frowns. “...myself. I was talking to myself.” You could have said something earlier.

But where’s the fun in that? Stories are predicated on conflict!

Twilight glares at no one in particular. I don’t think embarrassing myself is a valid conflict.

In another story it may very well be, but you’re right. In this story you’re going to make a laser.

Twilight’s ears perk up as a smile draws itself across her face, eliciting several wayward glances. Ooooh, I like lasers!

Yes, we all like lasers, but you’re going to be making this one out of cottage cheese.

...what? Twilight’s ears droop. But that’s impossible.

No it isn’t.

Twilight buries her face in her hoof. Ponies stop staring because they have been staring too long and go back to their business. Yes, it is. A laser is a device that emits light through a process of optical amplification based on the stimulated—

Well, I say you can make a laser out of cottage cheese. The story calls for it.

How convenient. Twilight rolls her eyes. Well, I guess I’ll start looking around for a vendor selling cottage cheese. She walks around the marketplace, unaware that she had stolen Lyra’s cottage cheese just this morning. Twilight freezes in her tracks. No, I didn’t.

Yes, you did.

Twilight lets out a long sigh. Okay, I don’t remember stealing Lyra’s cottage cheese.

Well, that’s because you did it before the story started.

Why would I steal Lyra’s cottage cheese? Twilight thinks, a glower distorting her features.

How else am I supposed to invent conflict out of making a cottage cheese laser?

Well, Twilight thinks as she takes a deep breath, you could get into the intense difficulty of actually constructing a laser, especially using something as fundamentally ridiculous as dairy products. You could get into the reasons why I would invent a laser that’s powered by cottage—

Made of cottage cheese. I haven’t decided what it’s powered by yet.

Twilight screws her face shut. Whatever. I don’t have to resort to theft. It goes against everything I stand for.

Well, you better explain that to Lyra, because she’s beelining straight towards you. Twilight’s eyes widen as Lyra approaches with a smile on her face.

“Hey, Twilight,” Lyra says.

Twilight scratches the back of her neck. “H-hey, Lyra.”

Lyra hums. “So, I was cleaning my fridge after you came over, and my cottage cheese appeared to be missing. Do you know anything about that?”

No, Twilight, you don’t. You know nothing of the—wait, Twilight, stop reaching into your saddlebags, you’ll destroy the conflict!

Twilight displays the tub of cottage cheese to Lyra. “Here. I found it in the marketplace.”

Lyra grasps the cottage cheese in her magic and examines it. “Huh. That’s weird.” She smiles at Twilight. “Well, thanks for being such a good friend and finding it for me!”

Twilight titters. “No problem.” Lyra walks away as Twilight now has to live with the fact that she is now a thief and a liar.

No, you forced me to become both of those things.

And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Why, just now you start heading towards Carousel Boutique.

Why am I heading towards Carousel Boutique?

To steal her cottage cheese, of course!

Twilight groans. Well, could you at least make it interesting? You know, describe the feeling of the sun beating on my back, the smell of the produce, the trailing off of the voices in the market—

Well, it’s too late for that, because here you are! Carousel Boutique! Twilight grunts as she enters Carousel Boutique, deprived of sensory detail.

Inside, Rarity is doing Rarity things.

You can’t just say she’s doing ‘Rarity things’! You have to describe how she’s measuring a bolt of fabric to be cut into a new design for her dress!

...but what if she’s tidying up her shop?

She isn’t. She’s cutting fabric. I can clearly see it.

Fine. She’s cutting a bolt of fabric up. She notices you and grins. “Hello, Twilight. What can I help you with?”

I can hear—

—the rhythm of cutting scissors punctuates the air, or something stupid like that. Happy?

Somewhat.

“Twilight?”

Twilight jumps in place. “Oh, heh heh…”

Ask her if she has anything to eat.

“...do you have anything to eat? I was just in the market, but I couldn’t buy anything because I had forgotten my bits at home.”

“Well,” Rarity says, “I did purchase some carrots for this evening’s supper, but I suppose letting a good friend have a few wouldn’t hurt anypony.”

Twilight nods. “Thank you, Rarity.”

Twilight heads into the kitchen and stares at the refrigerator. She bites her lip.

Are you sure I have to steal the cottage cheese?

Yes, I’m absolutely positive.

Why?

Because I’ll end the story right here if you don’t.

Twilight gulps and rifles through the fridge, locating the cottage cheese and placing in her saddlebag. She then remembers that she is ostensibly there to eat carrots and proceeds to begrudgingly do so. She exits the kitchen into Rarity’s workspace.

“Well,” Rarity asks, “did you find the carrots?”

Twilight sighs. “I did, yes. But there’s something else I have to tell you.”

Twilight, what are you doing?

What I shouldn’t have to be doing.

“Rarity, I—”

“—stole your cottage cheese.” Twilight gasps and looks around. “How did I end up back in my castle?”

I transitioned the scene so you wouldn’t spoil the conflict.

Twilight’s eyes slit as she scowls. “And what conflict would that be?”

Your desire to break new ground in science balanced with maintaining your social status, of course.

“You invented that!” Twilight’s wings flare. “I had no issue balancing my scholastic needs with my friendships before you intervened.” She paces around. “And even then, a better author would have found a more natural way to convey the conflict by, say, writing me into a story where a new scientific breakthrough stole all of my time and worried my friends!”

I would think that you becoming a liar and a thief would worry them as well.

Twilight glares in the direction she thinks I’m in. She’s horribly wrong, but I give her points for trying. “You don’t need to resort to character assassination!”

Spike creeps in, apparently disturbed by Twilight yelling at apparently no one. “Twilight, are you alright?”

“Not now, Spike, I’m in the middle of something.” Twilight huffs. “Listen, you, what point is there in using me as a character if you’re just going to contort me to fit the story? A story with a sensible flow of events would somehow work in conflict without resorting to turning into nonsense!” Twilight grimaces, pulls out the cottage cheese, and throws it to Spike. “Here, return this to Rarity. I don’t want to be in this story anymore.”

Spike nods and smiles. “Maybe she’ll need me to help around the store,” he says as he walks away.

Twilight squeezes her eyes shut. “See? That’s a normal character reaction. Why don’t you try—”

Alright, Twilight’s getting boring. Let’s move on over to Pinkie Pie, who is currently tidying up her room.

Hey, Pinkie.

Pinkie looks up. “Yes?”

How would you like to make a laser out of cottage cheese?

After a long moment, during which her brain slowly absorbs the concept of constructing a weapon of mass destruction out of a food of mass flavor, her face lights up like a Hearth's Warming tree. “Would I!”