Notes on writing Pinkie

Note: Some of my opinions on what constitutes Pinkie Pie being well written involves my headcanon, and if you've got a problem with that I remind you that you can't spell opinions without onions.

Every time I read a story with a well written Pinkie Pie, I always end up favourite-ing it.
Please briefly ignore the fact I currently have 280+ favourites (Not all actually deserving, I need to do some weeding), as a regrettably small portion are to be credited to this rule. So what are apparently nearly all of you doing wrong?

The big part's the fourth-wall thing. So many writers of otherwise excellent stories toss in a throwaway gag about Pinkie addressing the audience, or the rules of dramatic tension if they feel like being a bit classier about it in a way that's slightly plausible. This draws me as far out of the story as possible, by reminding me either that there's a world beyond the story, or worse that the story's a story which is obliged to follow the rules of dramatic structure.
What's that, the situation's bleak, the heroes are all imprisoned and Celestia's being 'distracted' by a changeling in the guise of Big Mac? "Hey remember you're reading a story?" Pinkie suddenly exclaims. Oh yeah, this isn't tagged grimdark so I suppose Fluttershy talks a rabbit into uncaging them or something, Celestia was just luring the changeling into private so she could make him talk without traumatising any citizens with the ensuing vicious feather-tickling, and the villain will probably fall over backwards mid-monologue into the volcano if this level of writing quality keeps up.

The next thing people get wrong is the way Pinkie thinks. This one's a bit more subtle and I'm fine with putting up with it, but failing it still takes you out of instant-fave territory.
The things people do wrong in writing Pinkie are giving her access to impossible/improbable knowledge "coz Pinkie", or writing her as having a sane train of thought. The former might seem to be violated in "Swarm of the Century", but it's shown she has prior knowledge of the problem with parasprites. What's not good, and is actually Deus Ex Machina-ish, is having her inexplicably guess someone else's secret completely off the bat ("Or maybe the reason Twilight was late is because she actually discovered she's 1/32th changeling, and the encounter with Chrysalis at the wedding awoke primal urges in her long buried, and she [...Extended Pinkie Rant...] so then I said, Pancakes?! Are you NUTS?"). The alternative, 180 degrees in the opposite direction, is having her writing up calculus that doesn't say something like (P^2)*2AR(root T)/Y = F*U*N. She just doesn't have the patience to hold a conventional train of thought for that long.

The extra credits option is to have her think in a way that comes to conclusions that are right, and frequently not those found by less 'interesting' ponies, but via a working that only really applies in some alternative mode of logic. The best example I can think of for this was in a child's book by Louis Sachar (Author of Holes) I read when I was young. In it, a character was counting from 1 to 4: "1, 17, 36, 4". Right answer, wrong working- at least by any logic the rest of us can follow. When instructed that counting goes "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10" and asked again to count to 4, the character counted "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10" with no knowledge of what went wrong. An in-show example of this is, dipping back to Swarm of the Century, that explaining the situation in full never to her friends never occurs to her, despite the fact it would have made her instrument-collecting a lot easier. Right answer, wrong working (She must be failing maths and science very hard in the EQG universe).

Okay, I hope this short blog post educates someone at least, just to make the last pre-sunrise hour worth it. If you have any comments, or maybe a story with the fabled not-crappily written Diane Pie please leave a comment below, and I'll get back to you when I'm not comatose.

P.S. Looking at the general structure of this post makes me realise it was the essay my High-school teachers were always trying to eke out of me.