Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36299239-20190304064951/@comment-28266772-20190306170111

Good news is I liked it!!

Bad news is, I believe in tough love. I may be a bit pointed in the below review. Take everything in good faith. I don’t seek to be mean, but I know it’s never pleasant to see someone take potshots at your story.

You’ll find the annotated version of yoru story below, and the full review riiiiiight at the bottom.

-

“Do they smell?” Michael asked and, before Mary had a chance to respond, he leant in close to her desk and sniffed audibly.

Mary flinched away from her boss then, trying to regain her composure, stammered, “W-well...Not these...particular ones. B-but–”

'[Just a little note but something about “flinched away from her boss then” reads a bit clumsily. I think you can make it snappier. “Mary flinched then…” says the same thing but much quicker.]'

“Strawberry Shortcake!” Michael barked, causing Mary to flinch again, “S-sorry?” '[Who says sorry? New speaker, new line. Or, at the very least, use dialogue tags.]'

“My sister had those toys when we were kids. They smelled.”

“Y-yes.” Mary affirmed, “Yes they did”.

'[I hate Michael, I hate him already. But this encounter getting cut short feels a bit artificial. Maybe find some way of noting the end of the chat. Maybe he doesn’t feel welcome. Maybe he’s just a prick who walks away mid-conversation on the regular. I don’t know.]'

Michael wandered back to his desk then '[you overuse ‘then’. It serves no meaningful purpose here.]', and Mary settled back into her chair. She couldn’t help but feel vaguely affronted by the encounter [me too if I’m honest]. True, Michael had not actually touched her possessions, but surely there was such a thing an olfactory personal space and, if so, he had certainly invaded hers.

Besides, he had made her speak an untruth. The vintage My Little Pony toys Mary kept on her desk were not from any of the scented scented [scented scented] lines – the Perfume Puff ponies or the Candy-Cane ponies, for instance – but of course they smelled. Mary darted her eyes over to Michael’s desk and, seeing him absorbed in some spreadsheets, quickly snatched up one of the ponies and brought it close to her face, inhaling deeply.

There it was! The familiarly sharp and vaguely sweet scent of soft, moulded plastic that never failed to have a calming influence on her. Mary resisted the hypothesis that this smell somehow ‘transported her back to her childhood’. That was then and this was now, and the smell made her feel good about now. It was a clean smell. A pure smell. A smell that made her think, with pride, of the perfectly ordered and rather substantial collection of G1 ponies she kept at home in her apartment.

Whenever Mary felt low, thinking of her collection was always a comfort. Some collectors liked to display their ponies according to the specific line they were part [of], some displayed theirs according to release date, or theme. Mary, however, liked to display her collection according to colour. Entering her pony room was like walking into the middle of a rainbow. That’s how Mary liked to see it, at least. That room was her sanctuary, her temple, the one irrevocable [irrevocably?] good part of her whole world.

'[first thoughts. – solid, liking it. You have a sharp eye for characters, and while you’re a bit purple I feel like it suits the character]'



Flicking expertly through multiple tabs, Mary scrolled the latest sales listings on Ebay, ‘My Little Pony Trading Post’ and ‘My Little Pony Arena’. '[this wording is, again, a bit cluttered. I’d consider using a more straight forward sentence structure starting with Mary herself, and then describe her action (flicking expertly) after you’ve established what she’s doing. Also including the names of the specific places is great for authenticity, but at that exact point in the sentence they just obfuscate the actions/events that genuinely matter. Try finding a less clunky way to insert details into your stories. As a rule of thumb, if you can delete a word and the sentence still makes sense, then you should go ahead and delete it.]'

[as a little exercise I’m going to single out words and phrases that don’t add anything to the story in the following two paragraphs]

She wasn’t looking for anything in particular – [honestly] she had most of the rarer ponies already, including several ‘Nirvana’ ponies exclusive to international markets – but this weekly review of the sales threads had become [something of] a habit for her. It was as routine as doing the laundry or taking out the rubbish. She bookmarked a few listings – ponies she already had but that were [perhaps] in slightly better condition – and was about to call it quits for the night when a little flag popped up on one of the tabs she had open [for MLPTP.]

Mary seldom got direct messages on any of the sites [she frequented]. Although she was something of a fixture on them, she was never a [particularly] social person and never [repetition; never] took part in the [activities such as] swaps that people [occasionally] ran through the sites and never attended any of the conventions. She was also vaguely cagey about her collection, not liking to advertise [toowidely] [missing space] the rarities she had amassed. [Really,] unless it was a response to a message she [no need to italicise] had sent [someone about a pony they had for sale,] Mary never got any direct messages at all. Which is why Mary was surprised to find the message alert pop up in her tab and, having clicked it, to see the subject line, “For the consummate collector only.” Mary read on:

[I’ll come back to this at the end, but you need to be more economical in your writing i.e. get more bang for your buck.]

Pale_Rider:

''Hi FeatheredFetlocks! I have come across a very rare item that I think will be of interest to you and will make a unique addition to your estimable collection. I have a cousin who owns several warehouses (I’m not at liberty to say where), and while they were disposing of some long abandoned stock he came upon something extremely special and, knowing my proclivities, sent it to me immediately. Now, I can’t be certain as I’ve found no official record of this, but the item appears to be a prototype of the Fancy Swirl range of My Little Ponies...''

Mary gasped. Could it really be? The Fancy Swirl ponies, sometimes referred to by collectors as ‘Celestial ponies’ or ‘Fairy Brights’ were a space-themed line of four ponies for which promotional box art had been created (and was widely available) but, as far as Mary knew, the toys themselves had never actually gone into production. For decades collectors had drooled over that one illustration of the proposed line, and many people had turned their hands to making customs of the set, but never had there been even the hint of a rumour that prototypes might actually exist. If this [really – Sorry I just can’t help but point out how superfluous this ‘really’ is] was genuine (and Mary realised that was a big “if”) she had to have it.

''...I know is [it] sounds unbelievable, but it’s true! The particular Fancy Swirl I have is Starswirl (the pink one). I’d love to keep her for myself, but I’m downsizing my collection and really need the extra cash (I’m expecting and the due date is this September!). If you think you might be interested, please get in contact with me. Don’t delay. If I don’t hear from you in 24 hours I’ll go to the next name on my list.''

The rest of the message consisted of various assurances as to the quality and provenance of the toy, followed by details such as shipping rates and the seller’s preferred payment methods. At the very bottom of the message was a link to an image. Mary clicked it.

What she saw did not fill her with confidence. The photo was blurry, to say the least. All she could really make out was a pinkish, roughly pony-shaped blob with several protrusions sprouting from its head. It might have been a Fancy Swirl prototype. It might have been anything.

It was probably a scam. The seller hadn’t even named a price. Curious about who she was dealing with, Mary clicked on the user name, “Pale_Rider” but found they had made no previous posts in the forums. Another red flag, surely.

But, still…what if it was genuine? Mary chewed at her bottom lip as she gazed again at the grainy photo. If this was for real, it was perhaps her one chance to own a truly unique piece of My Little Pony history – virtually a museum-piece – the world’s only known Fancy Swirl pony.

All at once Mary leaned forward in her seat and started punching slowly and deliberately '[redundancy; slowly and deliberately kinda overlap. Just a point to consider.]' at the keyboard:

FeatherdFetlocks:

''Hello Pale_Rider, Thank you very much for your message. You certainly have me intrigued! I was just wondering if you had any more photos as the one you linked to is a teeny bit difficult to make out? Also, what is your asking price? Congratulations on the baby, by the way.''

On reflection, Mary deleted this last sentence. She didn’t want to invite any friendly overtures from this person. Best just to stick to business. [<-that sentence lacks a subject i.e. it needs an independent clause to attach to]

Mary sent her response then settled back in her chair. She wasn’t sure when, or even if, [for the sake of simplicity you should just shorten it to “she wasn’t sure when or if…”] she would hear back from her mysterious seller. She didn’t have to wonder for long, though, '[you’re over using commas. You don’t need either of those commas]' as within minutes she received another message alert:

Pale_Rider:

''Hi FeatheredFetlocks. I knew you’d be the one! Unfortunately my camera is broken so I can’t send you any more photos, but I promise she’s much less blurry in real life. She’s perfect, in fact. I accept payment via Paypal and, for you, I’m asking $500''

Mary sucked in her breath sharply. Five-hundred dollars was not a small amount of money, by any means, but honestly [just scrap ‘honestly’] she [had] spent more on ponies before. She was still concerned about the photo and the suspiciously convenient excuse of the broken camera but then, if she was paying via Paypal, what was the harm? If the pony never arrived, or if it arrived and was an obvious fake, she could always get the money back. With only a few more moments deliberation, Mary made her decision.



Slowly, reverently, she lifted the tiny pony out of its nest of packing foam. The plastic was firm in her grasp but soft, almost velvety, [‘almost’ – filler word] to the touch. Mary examined her latest acquisition with an expert eye, running her hands over its surface to check for imperfections and peering closely to check for the tiny flecks of black age spots that collector’s [collectors] sometimes called ‘pony cancer’. She ran her fingers through the toy’s mane and tail and the strands of acrylic parted like water. It was, as the seller had promised, pristine.

Only now did Mary give herself over to truly admiring her new pony. It’s [Its] marbled surface had a shiny, metallic sheen to it – twining rivulets of pink and red that [seemed to – filled words] shift as Mary moved the figure back and forth in the light. A spray of green and gold stars freckled the pony’s flank.

On top of the pony’s head sprouted three yellow antennae of hard plastic – two topped with 3D stars and one with a tiny crescent moon. It’ just like the promotional art Mary marvelled. Well, almost. [<- if this is meant to be Mary’s thoughts, it should be italicised like “It’s just like the promotional…”]

Mary reached into her drawer of pony brochures, pamphlets and other ephemera and withdrew the art card signed by (swoon!) Bonnie Zacherle herself. The glossy, 5 x 7 art card featured an image of four little ponies frolicking in space – a galaxy of stars spiralling behind them. Mary studied the the [the the] image carefully, glancing up a few times to compare it to the pony in her hand. Her pony looked just like one of the four pictured...except [<-pictured… except]that [<-‘that’ is unnecessary] where her pony’s pink body was marbled with deep, crimson red, the pony in the artwork was swirled in a pearlescent pink, a few shades paler then her base body colour. Curious.

Otherwise satisfied with her visual and tactile inspection of her new treasure, Mary brought it up close to her nose to breathe in its factory-fresh fragrance. Her head immediately jerked back as a metallic scent assaulted her nostrils. This wasn’t right. Where was that sweet, rubbery smell she knew so well? Hadn’t the seller assured her this had come straight from a warehouse via a smoke and pet-free home?

Mary frowned down at the toy for some time before slowly lifting it back up close to her face. It looked fine. It felt fine. And yet...and yet…

Tentatively, Mary poked the very tip of her tongue out of her mouth and gingerly pressed it to the toy’s plastic withers.

A taste like rust filled Mary’s mouth, stinging her salivary glands. She pulled the toy away in disgust.

Could it be that the sheen of the pony’s paint was made from real metal? This [That – I think it scans better as ‘that seemed’ but it might be a matter of taste] seemed unlikely to Mary. It must have been stored next to something when it was in the factory... something metallic... '[<- clunky and awkward use of ellipses. Maybe just “…when it was in the factory and the stench of something metallic…”]'and the stench of of the corroding material had leached into the porous plastic. Annoying, but nothing she could blame the seller for, she supposed. '[<- passive voice/weird sentence structure. Few ways to fix it but the easiest is to just delete “she supposed” and add “it was” to the start.]'

“You’re a stinky little thing!” Mary addressed the pony reproachfully, turning it to face her. “I’ll have to keep you separate from the rest of the herd until you air out a bit.”

Mary looked about the room for a suitable spot. Almost every surface in the room was already covered with ponies. Finally, her eyes alighted on the broad, bare windowsill. She hesitated. She didn’t want such a rare and valuable pony to fade. Still, it would only be for a couple of days and the south-facing window got little light, anyway. Mary placed her new pony at the centre of the windowsill '[this use of windowsill comes so soon after the last use it caught my eye when reading. Try finding a synonym to help the prose scan better], it’s [its] display side facing the room, and stood back to look admiringly at the little pony whose crimson swirls glinted prettily [try to avoid telling us positive ‘evaluations’. Saying something is “pretty” or “awesome” can sometimes come off as clunky. In this example, you’ve done a fantastic job of showing us how the model is pretty. You don’t need to explicitly tell us.]' in the gloaming.



Mary overslept that night and when she finally awoke the following morning she had a hard time getting out of bed. She felt dazed and sluggish, more like she hadn’t slept in days rather than had had extra sleep '[Good Lord, clean this sentence up. “She felt dazed and sluggish from oversleep” says the exact same thing without being so awkward”]'. Somehow she managed to drag herself through her morning routine and she was just about to head out to work when, passing by the pony room, something caught her eye. Mary paused and retraced her steps back to stand in the doorway of the pony room, examining it with a frown. What was it that had caught her attention? She entered the room and scanned her shelves, but everything seemed to be in its place. Then she saw it. The new pony, sat on the windowsill, [everything in those commas can just be deleted] was no longer standing with its display side facing the room. Rather, it was turned to face the window.

Mary’s heart gave a little flutter, but she quickly and angrily pushed her anxiety aside, [full stop]. Don’t be stupid! she chastised herself, [full stop] You must just have forgotten that you turned her that way.

“Either that, or you decided you wanted to watch the birds!” she joked aloud then laughed, but the laugh sounded high and thin to her ears and she found herself frowning again. I really am tired. She thought as she turned the pony back around to face the room and finally headed out the door.

'[Ehhhhh, consider rewriting the above paragraph or two. It’s weird and artificial and doesn’t feel right. You repeat ‘laugh’ a few words apart, you state she laughs THEN you go on to describe it rather than just keeping description and action in one place. Also, why is her emotional reaction this strong? It makes sense if she felt a sense of violation (as many collectors do regarding their collection) but you don’t state that. And I don’t think you need to state her train of thought word for word. This is a very cliched scene. It’s necessary, but cliched, so state your business and move on. Don’t let the audience linger on moments like this too soon. All horror has clichés, just don’t agonise over them.'

'I think it makes more sense to emphasise the violation she feels at the suspicion of her collection being interfered with. Something that covers these points:'

'- pony has moved, Mary’s furious at her collection being touched. '

'-remembers she lives alone. '

-makes the quip about the pony turning to watch the birds

-turns it back around.

It doesn’t need to be more than a sentence or two.]

That whole day at work Mary felt out of sorts. Prickly and irritable [sentence fragment]. Although she had never been particularly attached to her co-workers, she was normally able to at least endure their presence. Not today [again]. Today everyone was slow and stupid – [you can use a semicolon or comma here] their conversation inane and repetitive.

Michael came to Mary’s desk to deliver a paper he wanted her to review '[make it snapper. Off the top of my head “Michael dropped some papers off for Mary to review”] 'and she could barely focus on a word he said. I could beat your face in, Mary thought, and wondered at the thought. ''I could smash my fist right into your smug smile and you wouldn’t even see it coming. ''Far from unsettling, she found the thought somehow soothing.

By the end of the day Mary was exhausted. She left work without bidding her co-workers farewell and caught her usual tram home. Every time another passenger jostled or bumped against her she would grind her teeth and clench her fist tighter '[“clench her fist” says the same thing as “clench her fist tighter”. It’s not like you can clench your fist “loosely”.]'around the handrail. She wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong. All that she was certain of was that it was everyone else’s fault. [she was just certain that it was everyone else’s fault]

Arriving home, Mary still felt tense from the day’s frustrations. She went to make herself a cup of tea, muttering angrily to herself the whole while, though completely unconscious of this.

'[she made herself a cup of tea unaware she was muttering angrily the whole time. – Sorry, I can’t help myself.]'

Steaming cup of tea finally [delete ‘finally’] in hand, Mary headed to the pony room to unwind. As soon as she entered the room a wave of relief washed over her. She sighed as she sat down in her pink desk chair and, reaching across to the side table with her spare hand, retrieved her laptop.

Mary surfed the net aimlessly for a while, sipping intermittently at her earl grey. She decided to check her bank account to make sure she wasn’t overdrawn after paying for Starswirl. She wasn’t. In fact, it looked like the payment hadn’t gone through at all. Confused, Mary checked her Paypal account. Sure enough, the $500 she had paid Pale_Rider had been refunded. There was no note to explain why. Mary chewed at her lip as she stared at the refund. She wasn’t sure what had happened here [delete “here”] but she couldn’t help but wonder, and not for the first time - Who was this “Pale_Rider”, anyway?

[just end on “explain why” and note that she wonders who Pale_Rider actually is.]



Mary didn’t expect to find much when she [once more – delete] looked Pale_Rider up on the MLPTP '[this acronym isn’t great for people unfamiliar with MLP so just say something generic like ‘the forum’. Your audience will intuit that you don’t mean the Top Gear/Cirque Du Soleil Shipping Fanfic Forum]...and [bad ellipsis! Bad bad ellipsis! You’re not meant to be here! Back to dialogue you go. Back, back into dialogue. Stay away from formal prose like this. It’s not for you. And don’t forget your space next time!] 'that’s exactly what she found. No threads. No posts. No sign whatsoever that the user even existed apart from the private messages she had sent to Mary and a mostly [mostly?] blank profile page.

Mary was about to close the page when she decided to try one last thing. She opened up the forum and typed “Pale_Rider” into the search field. One result was returned – a thread from two years ago titled “Who is Pale_Rider?”. Mary opened the thread.:

MonsterIceCream:

Feb 12, 2017

''Hi guys! I know I don’t post here very often, but I received a weird message from another user and I’m having trouble getting back in contact with her. I was hoping someone around here might know more about her?''

Her username is Pale_Rider'' and she claims to have a Fancy Swirl prototype for sale, but she’s not responding to any of my messages. Anyone know how I can get in touch with her?''

my little pony collector:

Feb 12, 2017

I know a “Wave_Rider” but not a “Pale_Rider''”. Also, I thought the Fancy Swirls were never actually made? Sounds kind of shifty to me.''

Evilbunnyfoofoo:

Feb 12, 2017

''There’s an account for Pale_Rider, but they haven’t posted anything in the trading post. I agree with my little pony collector. Sounds like someone’s just yanking your chain.''

Mary scrolled past several posts. All expressing scepticism at the offer that had been made to MonsterIceCream, but none seemed [were not seemed] able to throw any light on the identity of Pale_Rider.

A couple of months after the original post, MonsterIceCream posted again with an update:

MonsterIceCream:

Apr 21, 2017

''Long time no write! I finally got a message back from Pale_Rider and I decided to buy the pony from her. It arrived today and, although I couldn’t say for sure if it’s genuine or some sort of custom, it’s definitely beautiful. I can’t get a good photo of it this light, so I’ll have to wait till tomorrow to upload pictures.''

''Essentially it looks just like the pony in the Fancy Swirl promotional art – the one with the storm cloud cutie mark (Pale_Rider called it Swirlabout) – but instead of lilac the marbling on the body is a very pale silver. It looks white in most light.''

''There is just one teeny thing...the pony reeks! It smells like someone’s dog buried it. It’s otherwise in perfect condition, though, so I don’t know what’s up with the smell.''

Several users had responded to MonsterIceCream's update congratulating her on her purchase and asking to see pictures. A few commented that they still didn’t believe it was genuine and some even suggested that MonsterIceCream herself was lying. The matter was never resolved though as, after that point, the thread just seemed to die. MonsterIceCream never posted any pictures of Swirlabout, nor did she respond to her accusers.

Lost in thought, Mary chewed absently at her lower lip. This was all starting to sound eerily familiar '[no it sounds like an exact replica of Mary’s experience, word for word and Mary’d have to be dumber than a lamppost to not see that. So either she’s missing three quarters of her brain and you forgot to mention it, or that sentence needs a rewrite to be accurate]'. After staring at the abandoned thread for some time, Mary clicked on MonsterIceCream’s username. MonsterIceCream’s '[skip monstericecream, just say ‘the’. Again, your audience will intuit who’s profile it is] 'profile popped up. Scrolling through the user’s activity Mary found that MonsterIceCream had started one last thread after the one [vague language “the one” that reads weirdly] about Pale_Rider, this time in the “Wanted to Sell” section of the forum:

G1 Collection Free to Good Home

MonsterIceCream:

March 5, 2017

''Hi guys. I need to get rid of my collection and fast, so if you’re a bargain hunter this is a great opportunity.''

''I have approximately 176 G1 ponies, most in very good to minty condition. Highlights include TE Mimic, Rapunzel with original barrettes and a prototype (or custom?) Swirlabout.''

I don’t have photos, but if you claim it now I’ll send the whole lot to you for the price of postage.

Gingerbread:

March 5, 2017

I’ve just sent you a DM. Is this for real?

Skybreeze:

March 5, 2017

Why are you getting rid of them MonsterIceCream? Is something wrong?

MonsterIceCream:

March 6, 2017

''Ever since I got Swirlabout I’ve started to feel differently about my collection. I know this sounds crazy, but they’ve started to creep me out. I can’t handle all those little eyes staring at me all the time. I feel like they’re watching me. And the smell! My whole room smells like dirt. ''[I think there are worse smells you might to consider using.]

''I feel sick and I just feel like getting rid of the ponies will be a huge wait of my chest. I’d try to sell them individually, but I just want them all gone now.''

MonsterIceCream:

March 7, 2017

''Claimed! Thank you all for your interest and your concern. I feel much happier now.''

MonsterIceCream:

June 17, 2017

And I looked, and '''[reads like a quote, in which case I think it should just be “looked and beheld” with no comma. Unless the original source has a comma, in which case I’m wrong. Which, to be fair, I do a lot] 'beheld a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed him.''

Mary reread MonsterIceCream’ thread several times. The woman sounded genuinely disturbed. Mary felt a little twinge whenever she got to the part about the ponies smelling wrong. Her own pony didn’t smell of dirt, of course. But still…

Swivelling her chair around, Mary faced Starswirl – still sitting on the windowsill, still facing the room [poor sentence structure]. She scooted over to the toy and picked it up then, after a moment’s hesitation, gave it another sniff. '[Again, scans weirdly. I think the flow between “picked it up” and “then” is what throws me off. Try finding another way to punctuate this sentence.]'

There is [it] was again –  [you use dashes a lot] that strange, metallic scent. It hadn’t faded at all since she [she’d] put the pony out to air. It smells stronger than ever, Mary thought, although she knew this made no logical sense [Redundant – we’ll intuit that you’re not talking about “illogical sense”] She didn’t pull the pony away as she had the first time [she smelt it]. Instead, she took another deep breath, letting the sharp scent pierce her nostrils. There was something almost pleasant about the smell, she thought. Unfamiliar [why is its unfamiliarity at odds with its freshness?], true, but somehow fresh. Invigorating. Mary stuck out her tongue and licked the length of Starswirl’s back. Her mouth was flooded with a taste like dirty coins. She shuddered and bit reflexively at her bottom lip, her flesh breaking out in goosebumps.



Mary slept fitfully that night. She had strange dreams. Dreams full of gore and viscera. [redundant]

She dreamt of ponies – which was not unusual – but these ponies were...wrong. '[Away ellipsis! Do you not understand that as a sign of prolonged pause, often used in and dialogue and prose that imitates speech, that you have no place here in this well-written prose with a formal style? Like a Jacobean ruff on a soundcloud rapper, you upset the style and do more harm than good! Shoo, misbehaving ellipsis! Away with you!]'

Her collection was in disarray. Instead of the orderly rainbow she had taken such care to curate, [delete this comma] the figures were all jumbled up. Mary was sitting on the floor of her pony room brushing out the tail of one of her favourite ponies, Bouquet [of Bouquet, one of her favourites]. With each stroke, the tail grew longer – the key feature of the Brush and Grow line...but this just kept going [‘it’ not ‘this’]. Mary set aside the brush and used both hands to withdraw [<- strange word choice, don’t you think?] inch upon inch of hair from the little plastic pony until [it seemed like almost <- filler] a whole metre had come out of its back end. There was a slight hitch in the tail and Mary thought it must be about to stop, but instead there was a wet pop and she found herself pulling out a long, slimy trail of intestines [nice].

Gasping, Mary tossed Bouquet aside in disgust. She tried to get to her feet, but the ground seemed '[it either did or didn’t. Seemed is a terrible word in fiction.] 'to be pulsing and she couldn’t steady herself. She spun around and braced herself against one of her pony shelves, and as she did so came face to face with her collection of Beddy-Bye Eye baby ponies. They each winked at her from weeping, lifelike eyes that gazed out from swollen, infected '[how are they infected? Do they look infected? How do they look infected?] 'sockets covering their entire bodies. '[Try: They winked at her with weeping lifelike eyes. Their entire bodies covered in swollen infected sockets. – or something like that. Either way, keep your sentence structure under control and don’t be afraid to cut things out.] 'Mary reeled back. The whole room spun around her and she caught glimpses of the rest of her collection – all hideously transformed. Sweetheart Sisters teetered on legs so long and thin they looked ready to snap, Sweetie Babies had their lips curled back to reveal large, rotten teeth in mottled gums and from over near [this is a particularly bad example of cluttered wording] the Perfume Puff ponies came a rotten miasma.

Undercutting all this was [another smell. A rusty, metallic smell <- delete and insert: a rusty metallic smell.]. Mary gazed up at the top of the shelf and saw Starswirl looming [there above <- over] her. She was not changed like the others, and somehow that was more terrifying, for it was only then that Mary noticed the red pattern that covered Starswirl’s body looked exactly like a network of veins. The smell coming from the pony seemed to grow stronger until it threatened to overcome Mary.



Mary awoke with a start. Although it was a cool night, she found herself drenched in sweat. She mopped at her brow with the sleeve of her flannel pyjamas. [with her sleeve <- we don’t need to know the material of her clothes]

The dream was fresh in her mind. She could still see her beloved herd, all mutated and corrupted. [redundant]She could still smell that now-familiar metallic tang in the air. '[you don’t clarify that this is meant to be a lingering after effect of the dream. Only the following two sentences clarify it.]'

Mary sat up. She really could smell it. The scent was almost overpowering [was overpowering]. What’s more, Mary finally recognised it for what it was.

[Blood, I assume?]

On shaky legs she made her way down the corridor through the dark, the scent increasing with every step she took towards her pony room [it grew stronger]. When she reached the room [comma] she hesitated for several heartbeats before flicking on the light.

In the sallow light Mary saw her collection in disarray, just as it had been in her dream. Ponies were scattered, apparently at random, over every surface in the room.

Right on top of her central pony shelf stood Starswirl, presiding over the havoc below. The red markings that marbled her body seemed to swirl and throb as Mary watched. Gazing up at the pony, Mary bit her lip so hard her mouth began to fill with blood. It tasted metallic on her tongue.

-

Mechanical issues – So, I’ve noted, a lot, about how you need to address wordage. I’ll touch on that in a bit, but for now you’ll find plenty of little details to pick out. Aside from sentence structure, which I’ll get onto in a minute, you need to put spaces in front of ellipses and study up on your punctuation. Your use of dashes and commas is inconsistent (most punctuation is, in many senses, a deliberate stylistic choice to reduce ambiguity in wording. Try to avoid overusing them like you do here. But by all means, exercise your judgement). In particular, you shouldn’t use dashes like you do.

In fact, I’d recommend reading a bit on basic sentence structure, fragments, run-ons, and when and where to use commas, semi-colons, colons, and so on. These aren’t terrible flaws in your writing, but I think you’d benefit from the brush up.

Stylistic issues – This is where your story suffers from that single, fatal flaw. You’re not verbose  per se. Or rather, you are, but there’s nothing inherently wrong with that. What you are is inefficient. Instead of saying “a favourite of hers” you’ll write “the pony that is one of her favourite items in the collection”. Done once in a while this isn’t a big issue. But for you this problem infuses your writing. Every last sentence had at least one word that could have been cut. Over and over, this became noticeable, then grating, then downright unpleasant. You need to read your stories aloud to catch these kinds of clumsy wording problems. You need to stick to sentences with clear cut subjects (Mary), actions (faced), and objects (Starswirl), and stay away from sentences like,

“Swivelling her chair around, Mary faced Starswirl – still sitting on the windowsill, still facing the room.”

Keep it simple, keep the object up close near the beginning, keep introductory phrases short, and make dependent clauses refer to the object clearly. In this example, the dependent clause describes Starswirl, the subject, but it isn’t clear (it's also inexplicably separated by a dash). The fraction of a second it takes to intuit past the ambiguity (who is sitting on the windowsill?) will make the reader pause. Like I said, once, here or there, that fraction of a second isn’t bad. But over and over and over again it will accumulate and wreck any kind of smooth flow, and the reader will find themselves struggling at the end of a longer story.

This isn’t to say you can’t use longer sentences, by the way. But if you do, put the work in to make sure they’re well crafted and absolutely necessary. Don’t just use them because it’s easier to let the words flow than it is to think them through.

Similarly, look into reducing redundancy. Wording like, “mutated and corrupted” pretty much say the same thing. And people rarely “flinch towards” an object so just say they “flinched”. You reference logical sense, but when do people write about the opposite? It’s like someone saying “loud nuclear explosion”; you hardly get quiet ones.

Also, regarding ellipses. Ellipses reference a pause in speech, and tend to reflect a relaxed, informal style of prose (often trying to mimic natural speech) or dialogue. People writing on message boards and narrators who dictate their work will use ellipses. Ellipses bring to mind a stoner trying to decipher the phrase “the door is ajar”, or a suspect stuttering through an interview. Personally, I can’t think of a style less suited to ellipses than yours. Any story that uses “gloaming” in earnest is going for a formal, well-read, style with a wide-ranging vocabulary. In that context, the use of ellipses feels like an artificial device to build up tension, and not a genuine pause in the author’s thought/speech.

When I write I use the following rule.

Every last word I write must either:

Develop character.

Move the plot forward.

Build atmosphere or mood.

Describe the setting.

Contribute to themes.

And, preferably, it should do more than one at once. You’ll find variations on this idea over and over again. But it cuts to the core of the issue:

If you can use fewer words to say the same thing, do so.

'''I cannot emphasise just how badly you need to take that sentence to heart. '''

Plot issues –

So, I liked it. Not sure about clichés, but I still liked it. In fact, all the previous criticism is specifically because I liked it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered pointing these problems out to you because it wouldn’t have been worth it. I liked the plot. I’d argue the existence of tropes is, in and of itself, not enough to be cliched and that the line between the two is subjective. The more important question, I think, is if you execute it well and include enough originality in either content or execution to merit existence.

I think you clear that hurdle with leaps and bounds. I loved the characterisation. It’s clear you had a blast writing Mary because she’s shines in every little anally-retentive detail. Even cursory characters like Michael feel very well drawn. There’s an authenticity to the MLP stuff without requiring you to actually be invested in it, and it means that I got that rare feeling of someone using fandom to shine a light on a character and their psychology, and not just as a way to pervert a bit of pop-culture innocence for shock value.

I liked the dream. You didn’t pull any punches. It was time to swing hard and you went for it, and it was good pay off for a reader who was wondering if you were going to fulfil the creepy potential you’d hinted at so far.

If there’s anything I’d recommend revisiting, it’s maybe the journey up to that point. Thinking backwards here’s what I remember:

Woman loves MLP

She buys a pony from a strange vendor

It smells of blood (I wouldn’t put time into weighting this as some kind of twist. The second a writer mentions anything that smells “metallic” then a good chunk of your readers will instantly know it’s blood.)

The pony moves.

She has a bad dream

She wakes up and there’s a kind of “Hereditary” style ending.

On reflection, I get Ned’s point about cliché. I think you do enough with character to elevate the story, for sure. But maybe you could find a way make the journey more interesting and find some areas to trim down. I’m not sure we need such a laborious exploration of the forum post, for example. In fact, you could even start the story with Mary taking the pony out of the packaging and skip the buyer part altogether (maybe start with the scene with Michael, actually. As a scene it focuses on dolls that smell, and I’m sure you could find a way to connect it to a follow up scene of Mary getting the doll before then explaining why it’s such a special find. It’s just such an awesome scene, and it demonstrates so well what you do to make your story unique).

Overall,

Not the most original story, but your exceptional flair for character elevates the story into something worth reading. Moving forward you need to proofread your work, read through it aloud, and brush up on articles that go over sentence structure and punctuation. You should also consider if it’s worth taking some sections out of this story, while elaborating on some other aspects that could help make it stand out as more original.

Also, as Ned correctly points out, this doesn’t qualify as a spin off. It meets QS as is (aside from correcting the core mechanical issue Ned and I highlight. i.e. if it’s a blatant error, like it’s/its, then it needs fixing) and it’s up to you if you want to put this up and move on, or hang around and really try to refine it. Whether you do or not isn't really important. What matters is if you put the time in to reflect on the above criticism. No single reader will offer perfect advice, and I'm sure plenty of mine can be ignored. Everything I said above is just a suggestion (aside from the blatant grammatical errors part, you're going to want to fix those), and meant completely in good faith.

I look forward to seeing you come back, and I'm always available if you have any questions or want me to revisit the next draft/another story.