Author #1

I recently posted a comment on your story in the form of a linked music video. Your reply was to basically say you had no idea what I meant, was talking about, could possibly be suggesting... well, normally I could put 'You get the idea, I'm sure' here, but you won't. Oh, you're intermittently capable of it, in limited categories. I suspect that some kinds of idea acquisition come easily to you, especially when it comes to concepts which might ruin someone's day. But you will spend most of your time on this site in careful, deliberate failure to recognize anything your readers try to tell you -- which means that if I had posted this follow-up somewhere that you could see it, you would have ignored this too. But as I'm not really talking to you right now, I might as well go ahead.

The video linked was for a song by "Weird" Al Yankovic. Now, it's possible that you genuinely haven't heard of him, so let me provide some more things for you to dismiss. He's a musician who's made his living with parody songs, and he's rather good at it. (He's also done some voice work for MLP itself, but I'm sure you don't care about that.) In an industry where acts either flame out within five years or go on for decades? He's in the decades category. I'm pretty sure he's outlasted the majority of people whose work he's sliced down into its finest form. And there are times when he goes after specific bands -- generally with their permission, because it's considered an honor to have Al tackle your work -- but there's also others when he goes after entire genres.

His attempt at a Christmas song was memorable. Especially the part where everyone died.

In this case, the linked video was to One More Minute: his idea of a breakup song. You've heard some of those in your life, haven't you? It's only people talking which you automatically dismiss. And that means you have some idea of the typical content. Oh, the pains of the broken heart. Oh, however will the singer go on with their lives? If only things were different. If only time could be reversed. A-go-ny. That's how it usually goes, only with more guitar.

Let's look at a section of Al's breakup song lyrics.

That's right (that's right) you ain't gonna see me cryin'

I'm glad (I'm glad) that you found somebody new

'Cause I'd rather spend eternity eating shards of broken glass

Than spend one more minute with you

You might get the sense this isn't the typical format.

I'd rather have my blood sucked out by leeches (leeches)

Shove an icepick under a toenail or two

I'd rather clean all the bathrooms in Grand Central Station with my tongue

Than spend one more minute with you

Now at this point, someone who wasn't spending their life within a carefully-maintained fog of false ignorance would be asking themselves "Why would someone post the video for this song as a comment on my story?" And happily, I can clear that up for you.

You're a troll.

Reading your "story" gave me a sense of your skill level. When it comes to writing, you're one of those people who knows just enough to have some concept of what not to do. And then you ended your education right there, because all you need for your writing is to know what you shouldn't be doing -- followed by doing every last bit of it. Repeatedly, for preference. You signed up on the site, opened the composition window, and set to your work of non-genius with a single intent: to completely waste the time of everyone who stumbled across it. Your goal is to make the lives of anyone who meets you a little more miserable, and that's what brings you pleasure -- because as recently stated, you're a troll.

But you're not good at it.

There are certain signs which appear when someone is trying to create a deliberately bad work. (I'd tell you what they were, and it might even make you more effective in your trolling -- but why would you ever start listening now?) Your "story" is filled with them. By approximate percentage breakdown, your "story" engine runs on a mix of roughly 5% Cliches In Place Of Character, 5% Really Not Edge, 0% Plot, and 90% Nyah-Nyah-Nyah-Nyah-Nyah!

And the thing about being a troll whose goal is to waste people's time... is that you have to look like something else. There are certain disguises trolls wear in order to make their efforts more effective. We've seen master classes in 'I'm so pitiful, won't someone please help me?' (This is naturally followed by ignoring any and all help, then writing something even worse.) You can always fall back on 'I don't speak English,' although there's only so many times any single person can realistically pull out 'How can you pick on my story when my father just died!' unless the other parent is really into speed proposals. But you would get the idea, if you were the kind of person who was capable of that. No one's going under the bridge if there's a sign posted reading Troll Lurking: Please Take A Number To Be Eaten In Sequence -- well, not unless they're going down there to kill the troll and you should relax: it's just a metaphor.

But you learned only so much, stopped... and so you don't know how to disguise yourself. Your identity is out in the open. You're writing deliberately bad pieces in order to waste people's time. It's all you've aspired to. Frankly, with your skill level and lack of learning capacity, it's all you'll ever be capable of -- so isn't it nice that your goals almost fell within the range of what I will now ironically describe as your talent?

I had your species identified within a paragraph. One. Paragraph.

So the meaning of the music video, when used as comment, is this: I know what you are now. I checked out your work when it appeared in the New column -- once. But you've been identified, tagged, kicked out in the wild with a beeping diode punched through one bleeding ear, because it's not as if you were using that ear for anything else. And so I will never click on one of your "stories" again. What's the point? They'll all be the same. It's not as if you could ever figure out how to do something else. You certainly don't want to.

So in summary: when it comes to your writing, I'd rather dive into a swimming pool filled with double-edged razor blades than spend one more minute with you.

Thank you for not listening.

Author #2

I recently posted a comment on the two currently-posted chapters of your future "magnum opus" -- your words, not mine -- before walking away from both it and you for what I had hoped would be forever. But I did notice that you'd replied to it, and so peeked back just long enough to read your response. I almost had to, because it was a comment I'd been saving for just the right occasion. I've had it on hold for years, waiting for just the right story to come along. And yours was it.

You potentially shouldn't be proud of that.

I wanted you to understand where my comment came from, so I linked back to its original source. Because I freely admit: that comment, at least in its first form, did not originate with me. I know you followed that link, and so you met Roger Ebert. (He's dead now. Cancer took his voice, but it never touched his words.) His reviewing style wasn't for everyone, and there were people who said he liked movies a little too much. That you had be truly horrific before he'd kick you into the basement. If most people felt that your film was worth, at best, two stars out of five, Roger could probably find an extra half-star for the sincerity of your attempt. He was that kind of man, and it's not necessarily a bad thing.

But as you read (because you followed that link), there was once a movie called Freddy Got Fingered. And it is bad. It is so bad that to this day, there are people trying to convince themselves it's actually a work of subtle genius because no one could make a film this bad unless they were doing it on purpose. It is measurably worse than The Room. People who watch The Room throw spoons at the screen and laugh, because Tommy's attempt was sincere. People who watch Freddy Got Fingered fling knives at their own throats.

Roger Ebert had something to say about that movie. I looked at the quote -- it's a memorable one, isn't it? -- then repeatedly swapped out a single word. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for the right story, because you don't use this comment unless you mean it. And dear sweet pony gawds, you made me mean it. Two hundred words into your first chapter and I was looking for the comment's text file. By the second chapter, I was forcing myself to actually finish before putting it up -- while knowing nothing you wrote would change my mind. That's an accomplishment.

Here's that altered quote again. After all, you appreciated it so much the first time.

This fanfic doesn't scrape the bottom of the barrel. This fanfic isn't the bottom of the barrel. This fanfic isn't below the bottom of the barrel. This fanfic doesn't deserve to be mentioned in the same sentence with barrels.

Clearly that isn't a comment you give to just anybody. Do you know how much work you needed to do in order to win that comment? You had to create a main character built from the debris of a thousand Displaced cliches -- and without actually having her be classically Displaced, for which you received bonus points. Then you put her in an environment which makes no sense -- strictly in order to get her out of it in less than a thousand words, kicking her into Equestria via method, means, and motive which also -- more bonus points! -- also make no sense! Oh, and once we're in Equestria, she's reborn as royalty. Also, there's Solid Snake. Why is there Solid Snake, along with a picture of him? Because. The same 'because' you're likely planning to use for bringing in all the other universes you announced (in the long description, in advance) would be in the story. Did I mention that when you're switching character POV, you told us that was what you were doing: one notice per switch?

We could talk about your grammar, but discussing a vacuum could take a while. Your sentence structure collapsed in on itself for lack of foundation. Your plot is a power fantasy which intends to leave nothing standing, your characters aren't, their dialogue would be taken as proof for lack of sentience, and let's all try to admire the way you tried to explain how in your world, magic comes out of the horn, but is channeled through the hands. We should try to admire that because attempting to do the impossible is how the species progresses.

Do you realize what you managed to accomplish? In a little under six thousand words -- just the first two chapters of your "magnum opus" -- you did everything wrong. You didn't even manage to get something right by accident. You wrote the fanfic equivalent of trying to tie two sparking live wires together with your bare hands while underwater: just approaching the result might kill.

And...

...we have to be honest with each other, don't we? I mean, I hit you with that comment. I arguably owe you something.

...I wasn't sure if you'd done it on purpose.

You see, there's troll writers out there, of all types and subspecies. And some of them are harder to spot than others. It seemed possible that you'd written so badly out of deliberate attempt, and if so... then face it, Tiger: you just hit the jackpot. If your writing had come from careful effort, planning to do something horrible -- then there was only one thing to do, and it was posting that comment. Because in that context, my comment was applause. You had created something so bad, there was an actual chance for it to be a work of subtle genius, and all I can do is point you at the original source of equal confusion. Well done!

But... there was also a chance that you were just that bad. And if so, your attempt would have been sincere. You would have been writing everything under the delusion that it worked, and... here, have some spoons.

Tom Green or Tommy Wiseau. If those are your potential destinies, you may be in trouble.

So up went my comment. And you replied. Do you remember what you said?

(I'm going to edit this a little -- but only to remove a character name. Protecting your identity. I hope you understand.)

Seriously? Well to be honest, I don't care. If you would've read my blog post, you would know, I don't give a shit if the fic is considered horrid. It will be my magnum opus ( In my own opinion ) so go ahead and hate it. Won't stop me from writing it. But I have to say, that link is disgusting. But all have their opinions. Besides, the story will get better as time goes on, the first 5 years are of course going to be terrible, but you have to remember, (CHARACTER) has her memories from all her previous lives. Which were many. So of course she can do crazy things. It'll be far more interesting when the next chapter comes out. But please, remove that link, that is disgusting.

(You then added "magnum opus" to your long description, which was a nice touch. You also said, in that same long description, that nothing would stop you from making it.)

A little later, there was another comment. Someone directly agreed with me: this was bad. And you shot back:

As I said before, I do not give a shit. Hate it or love it. It doesn't matter to me.

So... in the review for Freddy Got Fingered, Roger Ebert summarizes some of the movie's content. And to be fair, a number of things which happen in that film are completely disgusting. However, I did not -- and will not -- remove the link, because I want people to understand where the source comes from. Also, it's just words: not images. And your story is rated Mature, so it's a little late to draw the line in the sand now.

But there's something else about your replies. They're on the fence. The dividing line between trolling and sincerity.

I want to say something to the sincere side. The part which, if it exists, would be writing this story because it wanted to accomplish something real. Your inner Wiseau, willing to pay a single theater to keep his work on-screen for two weeks, just to make it Academy-eligible. If that aspect is there, I hope it's listening.

You're... not good.

I recognize that you have a vision. A plan. A story you want to tell, and you're doing whatever you can to crystallize it into electrons and light. But... do you read? What have you read? All of the worlds you advance-announced as being part of the story are from videogames. Do you have any experience with dialogue when it isn't being subtitled under the HUD? Have there been novels in your life which weren't assigned reading? Did you do the assigned reading? Because you don't seem to know how sentences work, or paragraphs, or any of the rules. I'm not sure you understand that there are rules.

You don't seem to know much of anything. You've given yourself the director's role and you don't understand when to reshoot a scene, or why. You're the self-assigned editor who's never heard the word 'cut!' You're every actor on the stage and you've never emoted in your life. There are a lot of people who've had ideas, then decided that the skills required to execute them were optional extras. Some of the videogame efforts have become Twitch and YouTube stars -- because other people racked up four million views by riffing on the horrible results.

You have a dream -- but that's all you have, and that means you need help.

But... two people told you that the work was bad. You gave them each a response. And I'm going to mentally unite those answers, then provide what I think is the translation to the real.

You don't care.

Because if you're Tommy Wiseau... then to this day, you think you're in the right. Everyone who's said your work is horrible? Somehow, they're the ones who got it wrong. Why does the person who knows everything need to learn? Why should the omniscient take advice? If you're not appreciated, it's the fault of the audience. You're just going to keep on doing this until it catches on and if that never happens? Shame about your being the only person on the planet with taste.

This is your story and you're telling it your way. You're not going to change.

You are a typing incarnation of The Dunning-Kruger Effect. And that means you can't be helped. You can't recognize that help is necessary. Anyone who did try to help you would be, in your eyes, attempting to destroy the perfection of your work. You're going to put it out there and if we love it or hate it? You don't care. You know you're ideal: all other opinions are irrelevant.

And that's just... sad.

To the sincere side... maybe I shouldn't have made that comment. Admittedly, I'm not taking it back: after all, I've read your work, and I can't take that back either. But there were other things which could have been said. The problem is that in the end, all of those alternative words would have been to offer advice. Suggestions. The names of places where you could have gone for help --

-- and that would have offended you just as much, wouldn't it?

You can't be saved. The only thing anyone can do is walk away, thus saving themselves.

Because if you can't put any effort into improving your writing, why should anyone put any time into reading?

Enjoy your spoons.

(To the troll side, if that's what responsible: ROCK ON!)

Author #3

You've shown up a couple of times in my Comments now. Probably much more often in those Comments sections for the stories of others. Your avatar is fairly distinctive: it makes you easy to spot. But your snideness is... generic.

At least, that's how it looked on first glance.

But after a while, I'd spotted you often enough to pick up on a potential theme within the hate. There seemed to be a certain amount of... resentment. I have absolutely no doubt that you deeply resent me: my work, the niche' I occupy, my mere presence on the site. But whenever and wherever your avatar turned up, that same resentment seemed to be there. All the time. You were snide, you were unkind, you (barely) tried to pass it off as (poor) wit... and it all felt like it had the same underlying message.

(We'll get to that message in a bit. This is called 'building tension.')

It took me very little time to become sick of you. There are times during encounters when I have my own inner Rarity, and knowing someone for three minutes is 179 seconds longer than what was required to realize that I never want to see them again. You weren't even good at being snide: what's the point of hanging around and trying to be insulting if all you're going to do is bore your target? But as I was becoming ill, I also found myself growing -- curious. Who were you, or at least the 'you' that had been unleashed online? Was there anything more to you, or was this, Sun and Moon help us all, somehow the result of your aspiring up?

So I finally clicked on your userpage.

I saw that you're an author. You have three published stories: one complete, two in progress. I also spotted your upvote:downvote totals on each.

They are, if you need a reminder, 4:12, 11:11, and 25:21.

(None of those votes are from me. I couldn't be bothered.)

So in several years on the site, you've posted three stories, and none of them have garnered particularly good reactions. You also have less than a hundred followers, and some portion of what you do have seems to be in the 'I followed them, they followed me back' category: I also glanced at your userpage comments.

But... some people have trouble catching on. There's a lot of stories on the site. Decent work gets overlooked, and there's only so much that can be done to point an audience in the right direction. Sometimes you get a good story at exactly the wrong time and downvotes flow: the last person to a fad is likely to see some enough-already! negatives no matter how strong their work is.

I thought it would be fair to read some of what you'd put up. After all, I had gone to your page to learn more about you and up to that point, most of what I'd learned is that you'd already collected at least one ban. So I started to go through one story. And after a few paragraphs, I showed other people what I was reading. There was a brief discussion of your work, which I realize is more buzz that you've seen in some time.

Here's what we talked about.

There's an old joke about prose which is so purple that it goes off the visible light part of the spectrum and enters ultraviolet. This is not your prose. Your prose has somehow found a way to go beyond gamma. I'm considering sending a sample of your work to NASA, because there's a very real chance that your descriptions are actually part of the background radiation from the Big Bang. By studying your work, it may be possible to learn more about the origins of the universe. This is a good thing, because we're sure not going to learn anything about good writing.

Your characters... where do I even start? Well, why don't we start with the name? Because in two of your three stories, your main character's name is you. And I don't mean it's a second-person viewpoint: I mean your character's name is the same as your FIMFic name. This is actually one of the single worst warning signs any story can have. It's a red flag that starts bullfights six countries over. Put it this way: to my knowledge, there is exactly one writer who has a main character sharing their username and isn't a walking nightmare. And Crystal Wishes you ain't.

Most of the writers who name characters after themselves do so as a means of writing a self-insert fic: the character is the writer -- only an idealized version of themselves. The person that writer would truly like to be. And with that in mind, I read a ways down the page scroll and learned that under this theory, your perfect self is an irredeemable jerk. He doesn't have a hook for readers, unless you count the left hook which should be sent directly into his face. At one point, you may have even managed to admit (in the Comments) that he was annoying. I think you might have said something about his getting better in later chapters -- and then you stopped working on the story. But I may be misremembering that. The thing you said which really stuck in my memory was when you admitted that you'd put the Thriller tag on your story because you felt it would be a thrilling adventure -- and then very openly said that as a genre, you had no idea what 'Thriller' meant.

That sort of thing tends to stand out.

We could talk about your plot, your dialogue, your grammar... the usual suspects. But there isn't much need, because the trial's over: they were all found guilty. I read your work, and this is my opinion of it: the only thing keeping you from having more downvotes is not having had more exposure. You earned your ratios, and you did it the hard way: through not being a good writer.

Except that... you don't see it that way, do you?

I said I've picked up resentment in the comments you make on other stories. (It's not buried all that well: you're not exactly skilled at concealing subtext.) I also said there seemed to be an underlying message. So here are the words I think I've found within your words, which took all the effort of scratching silver film off a gift card's code to reveal a balance of zero.

'Why isn't it me?'

Resentment. You mock someone's idea: why are people reading this story? How on Earth did this make it into the Feature box? What's with this dumb style? Why would anyone ever follow this writer, want to know what happens next on this work, pay any attention at all to this --

-- when they could be doing it all with you.

Am I on target? Do you really think that just about everyone who's had any success on the site -- while committing the sin of not being you -- didn't earn it? That somehow, the fact that you're not appreciated is bad luck, a genius not being recognized during their site lifetime, we're just not capable of recognizing how talented you are... and if you can't make it into the Feature box with your Work Of Extreme Genius, then what business do the rest of us have being there?

Is that really what you think? The life lie your ego tells you every day? Or did you just ramp up that ego a little until it was its own character, and that's what posts the comments? Because once I looked for that pure envy, I started to find it everywhere. It can't be me because it's not you. It can't be KKat because it's not you. It can't be Georg, it can't be PenStroke, I have no doubt it couldn't be Crystal if you'd ever met her, it can't be anyone because it's not you.

News flash: it's never going to be you.

You're a bad writer. You're not even interestingly bad. Most of your faults can be found in other people, exaggerated in much more fascinating ways. Yes, the exact energy signature of your prose might need some professional study, but the rest of us shouldn't stay close for too long: radiation poisoning. The amount of time you're worth is the exact number of microseconds required to realize you aren't worth any more. You're not going to get into the Feature box, and I don't like your odds on the Popular column. But that's not the site's readership. It's you. It's possible that you could change things enough to have a chance -- but that would require changing yourself. And if you can't change...

It's been a while since your last update on the continuing stories. There hasn't been a new one-shot in quite some time.

Does some deep part of you know it's not working? That in its current form, it'll never work? And since you can't change, and you can't admit it to your waking self, and won't write because you'll just fail again -- then all you can do is tell other people how much they suck. How inferior, rancid, undeserving their work is. Over and over and over.

But... it's not as if I'm exactly a neutral observer here, is it? You haven't exactly presented yourself to me in a manner which makes me want to give you a fair shot. I went to your userpage with some degree of bias in place, and I recognize that negative emotions may have shaded my perceptions. It might have just felt like you were making the golden standard into yourself with no one else ever able to measure up, because I wanted to see the worst in you.

So I ventured one more click. I went to your Favorites library, because I wanted to see which writers you did approve of.

There are nine stories in there. Six of them are truly strong works, just about as close to universally acclaimed as this site ever sees. Good stories, great stories, wonderful choices for a Favorites library, and it looks like the most recent one of those was added a few years ago.

The other three are yours.

You put your own writing into your Favorites library, directly above those six all-time classics. And you haven't called another story a Favorite since.

If you're curious, that was when I hit the Block button.

I've heard what you have to say -- and like your writing, it'll never change. So from now on, go say it somewhere other than my own Comments sections.

I'm sure you resent me for this. I'm also sure that in being resented, I'm in pretty good company.

They're certainly better company than you.

If you think you know whom I'm speaking of -- or worse, you're guessing -- please don't use any names or provide story links in your comments. You shouldn't comment on the userpages of those people either, or link to this blog.

And again: this is why I don't comment on stories much.

Or write reviews.

Or sleep well.