EA Town that Time Forgot

• MLP: FiM
• Slice of Life

One night, on Hearth's Warming, Diamond Tiara returned to her hometown of Ponyville. She'd hoped that some things might have changed. She didn't expect somepony to change so much.

• Diamond Tiara
• Cheerilee

Freglz · 7.8k words  ·  319  4 · 3.3k views

Description

One night, on Hearth's Warming, Diamond Tiara returned to her hometown of Ponyville.

She'd hoped that some things might have changed.

She didn't expect somepony to change so much.

Initial Thoughts

I remember when “A Town that Time Forgot” first came out. Surprisingly I was there when it was featured, even as this was around the time that my interest in the fandom had reached a low point (blame the show ending and college and all). I remember very much enjoying it, but for some reason I’d never commented or added it to my Favorites folder, nor spent much time asking myself why I enjoyed it so much. And yet, here I am, giving it another go. 

It’s been a little less than a year since I read this story, so I think I can trust my judgement as to why I liked it then. I’ll be approaching it with the perspective I give all the stories I review, asking myself what does the story do well, and what does it need to improve. 

The description and cover art, along with the tags, do give away whatever dramatic mystery element that might have come with withholding such information, but that’s not the point of the story, is it? Right now I want to know who changed so much, and why, and how Diamond Tiara wants to address that. 

Spoilers ahead!

Summary

Many years (though doubtful of how much, exactly) after the events of the show, Diamond Tiara returns home to Ponyville. Then she just returns to Ponyville, the taste of bitterness and broken familial ties fresh in her mouth. A bar just happens to be her stop, and it’s there that she meets an old… well, not quite friend, not quite acquaintance. Miss Cheerilee, older, graying, drinking alone, is quick to reciprocate Diamond’s greeting, but as the younger mare pokes and prods, trying to understand what she is doing, Miss Cheerilee only responds with distaste, sadness, and also more than a hint of desperation. 

They talk further, though first it’s not about Miss Cheerilee. It’s about Diamond’s job, how she’s changed, what she’s learned. Then it’s about her family, how disappointed she is with her mother. But naturally the conversation cannot stay away from Miss Cheerilee forever, and soon enough it tumbles out. She feels forgotten. Left behind. While ponies around her have lived and loved—Big Mac and Sugar Belle, for instance—she has kept to her ways. And life continues to change and leave her behind; what does Twilight’s new school bode for the old schoolhouse? Uncertainty abounds; Miss Cheerilee is afraid. 

Diamond doesn’t have answers. She doesn’t need them. What she can offer, instead, is a first step; her hoof; her friendship. Miss Cheerilee hesitates, but at the end, when a snowball fight ensues and the two are young and free of thoughts again, we know that she has taken it. 

Plot

Let me give a hint of my final impression, in a word: authenticity. 

In a practice where we trade in the make-believe, in rumors, half-truths, the dark lies the characters tell, the fragmented notions of plot and progression, in the strange ether of necessary lying that storytelling is, authenticity is how we make this work worthwhile. 

This is perhaps the most realized post-show Diamond Tiara and Miss Cheerilee story I’ve read, even as that idea is arguably one of the most predictable fanons in the fandom. Post “Crusaders of the Lost Mark,” this was common, but also before then; it seems, for better or for worse, writers are unwilling to let Diamond off the hook easily. They want to give her something more to do and be. They want her to do good, and be good, and learn. 

Thus I can’t say I was surprised by any of the directions that this story took, but, in my view, that would have defeated the story’s tonal strategy. This, make no mistake, is a warm story, written in the context of a cold winter; we are meant to feel intimate and warm, and so direction ought to be considered straight and true and not deviate too much from what is believable, what is authentic. 

Authenticity is what ties this plot together. We get an authentic experience from Diamond Tiara, who, at the story’s start, is already in the process of leaving an inauthentic experience: that of a disrupted home-life. Freglz uses that detail to jump into the meat of the story, but letting it languish long enough in the reader’s mind that when it comes back up as a minor detail, we as readers “believe” in it and understand its purpose. This is also a careful attempt at demonstrating both how long it’s been and how much Diamond has changed; this also means we believe in why she acts as she does throughout the story. The plot’s premise is authentic, and its execution throughout follows that. 

How so? Well, consider the conversation between Diamond and Cheerilee in the bar. I don’t mean to consider what’s said, but rather how. This conversation doesn’t sound contrived. It doesn’t come off as though the author wants the two to “talk.” From the get-go, it seems only natural that they should interact, even if their coming together was little more than a coincidence: Diamond wants to go someplace warm before she leaves for Manehattan, and Cheerilee has always been at this bar. 

Sometimes I think a lot of new writers think there have to be reasons for every interaction, every instance of shared moment. There is some merit in that, but also, there is some merit in understanding that, in life, things happen. The idea of coincidence being bad writing is only applicable in the following circumstance: if it gets the characters out a problem. Otherwise, coincidences pop up everywhere in fiction. It’s a coincidence that Scout and Jem live near the Radley House. It’s a coincidence that Nick Carroway chose to live in a house next to Jay Gatsby.

My point, on this small tangent, is that coincidental writing, to get characters to interact, is perfectly acceptable, if done authentically. And this story does that immensely well. 

Of course, authenticity of encounter is, well, for the encounter. Authenticity of the conflict is a bit harder to convey.

The conflict in this narrative operates on several layers. First, there’s the conflict Diamond experiences when she first sees Cheerilee. Then there’s conflict between the two of them, as the former tries to learn what has happened to the latter, and Cheerilee rebuffs and dismisses and deflects over and over again. The conflict stretches into stepping outside of the bar into the cold night, where it shifts into focusing on what has happened to Diamond. Then the conflict shifts back to that previous conversation, only, this time, something has warmed up inside Cheerilee, and the conflict in her can be explored: how she views herself in relation to a changing world—that might be a good way to put it. 

So, there isn’t really one source of conflict. This whole story really is filled with it. And this kind of conflict seems to be the Conflict of Information; a character wants to know something, another character doesn’t want them to. Each moment where conflict is introduced is a variation of this theme, but each moment builds upon the last. When the final conflict is resolved, we get a sense that all other conflicts have been as well. 

Is that authentic? On one hand, the cynical part of me doesn’t know if a conversation is enough to solve everything. But the other part of me must consider that this story doesn’t end with a solution presented. It simply embraces the next step in things, a step that Cheerilee wasn’t able to do on her own, and which Diamond wanted her to take. This, of course, is the conclusion of the story; it’s the final resolution of the conflicts thus presented. 

I noted that in the comments there were some disagreements about the ending, that it felt too sudden or unresolved. I disagree. Not every story needs the ultimate resolution. Some of the best short stories end necessarily on an impression, whether that be a particularly vibrant scene or emotion. For me, the simplicity of a snowball fight offset the dramatics of the previous reveals and resolution. It was the light touch needed to finish the melancholy meal, to make this exploration of Diamond and Cheerilee worth the effort. Freglz didn’t need to end on a note that determined that everything was fine, only that this particular conflict was over for now. Something new would come the next day. But for now, two mares get to have a snowball fight, and the murkiness of their lives fades for a glorious moment. 

This is all to say: this story is absolutely an authentic experience. It’s hard to express the amount of joy I felt while reading this, how close I felt to the story, how intimate things were. Freglz was able to connect me to this story and to its events; they were able to synthesize the experience within and without. That isn’t something writers are able to do easily, but the really good ones are able to make but words resonate in the hearts and minds of their readers.

This would earn the story a perfect score, save for one detail: the title. 

The title, “The Town that Time Forgot,” and the chapter title, “And the Ponies Who Live in It,” don’t appear to play much of a role in the story. That is, their significance or thematic/motif relevance feels lacking. This isn’t to say that a title has to be thematically linked to the story—for gosh’s sake, what is something like “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” supposed to thematically represent—but the issue is that the title of the story doesn’t quite feel like the title that the story needs.

Not much in the story reflects the presence of a town forgotten. Ponies, yes, but I didn’t get a sense that the town of Ponyville served a greater purpose than what was presented. In this way, the title misses the mark. Freglz might consider renaming this to better reflect the fact that the main source of emotional resonance isn’t the fact that the town lies forgotten, but that for one pony in particular, it feels like the town and time has forgotten her. 

Score - 9 / 10 

Characterization

Again, going back to that hint of my final impression: authenticity. 

I mean, gracious. These characters are perfectly rendered. 

I bought immediately this particular portrayal of Diamond Tiara. She still has a bit of her roughness about her—the snark is still there, and one might say she’s still on the pushy side—but we also see a far more realized version of her ascension (to use a more ethereal term) than we’d seen in the show, even if it’s implicit: after all, Diamond Tiara does the responsible thing of walking away from her berating mother and useless father, rather than escalating anything further. 

Here, Freglz paints a mature Diamond Tiara. Young, yes, but far more sure of herself and “the pony [she wants] to be.” She was enjoyable as our camera through the story, but I appreciated that she was also self-aware of both how far she’d come and how much she’d had an impact on Cheerilee, however much the latter mare even realizes this. I mean that Diamond exhibits a kind of sensitivity that I found myself completely believing. In a way it reminds me of how a lot of authors interpret Sunset Shimmer or Starlight Glimmer—they, being former villains, now represent symbols of empathy and understanding. Diamond seems to be, at the very least, a minor offshoot.

But I think the heart of the story belongs to Cheerilee, who, despite evidently being older, and having faced more than a fair share of her problems, demonstrates a grounded pony who simply suffers from a fear of missing out (I mean that in a not-demeaning way, of course). Unlike other interpretations, which try to suggest that, many years after the show, Cheerilee would become bitter, or a drunk, or some kind of “lost within herself” person, this Cheerilee is far more believable and less extreme. The bitterness is still there, but it makes sense; and more importantly, it never defeats her, nor really defines her. 

Both characters are fundamentally aware of how much has changed, not just for themselves but themselves in relation to Ponyville. So it seems unsurprising, even natural, that they should gravitate, however hesitantly, towards each other. 

Honestly, there isn’t much else I can say. Characterization throughout was wonderful, and it seriously felt like a lot of nuance was put into examining and exploring each of their respective personalities. 

Score - 10 / 10

Syntax

No discernable issues of grammar anywhere, and the sentences all flowed with a beautiful musicality. In a story that was heavy in dialogue, it was lovely to truly hear each character’s respective voices, in a way that was, again, completely authentic. 

Score - 10 / 10

Final Score - (9 + 10 + 10) / 3 = 9.7

Final Thoughts

For a story so well-deserving of its praise, it’s surprising that it has ended up as one of my shorter reviews. But I suppose that is to be expected—with little to dissect and criticize, I am left only with my praise, which in my view should be done as shortly and as sweetly as possible. 

Freglz’s “A Town that Time Forgot” is a wonderful story. It gave the impression of coming someplace warm on a cold winter’s night, and, as you clutch your blanket closer to you, you hear the snippets of an equally warm conversation. Maybe you don’t catch all the words, but you catch the meaning behind them. You get the sense of a happiness only found in the most primal aspects of the psyche—the perfect Platonian Joy, befitting the holidays, befitting the cheer. 

My final impression, then, is this: this is an authentic story. It more than deserves this high score—it demanded it. I loved every moment it gave me, but I must think with some sadness how strange it is that now I will never be in the unique position to read and love it for the first time again. 

To the author: though it does little to convey every bit of my feelings, let me say: thank you so much for sharing this story. 

I'm surprised how well it turned out to be honest, and that it received as much attention as it did. In retrospect, yes, the title doesn't quite fit, but I liked it too much to let it go, and I'm glad that everything else met your expectations and appetites.

Not everything I write is so wholesome or well thought out, but I try my best to present a degree of authenticity to most of my works, and I hope the next story I write and publish carries the torch.

Although some of your analysis is a bit too metaphysical (is that even the right word?) for my preference, I thank you for your effort and kind words.