Mashiro Rima was no fool. No, she was quite clever. For a clever girl like herself—who learned said cleverness from indulging in the art of sarcasm and a love for humor of the dark kind—she expected anything that came her way to be just that: clever, or even humorous in an actually humorous way.

Not in a way that made her want to scoop her eyeballs out and use them in a sundae made from the lining of her stomach.

Discovering that website and indulging in hundreds of stories over a span of a night left her unsatisfied. It was the early afternoon…and she was still unsatisfied. She was still thinking about those stories. She was still trying to draw a conclusion from her discomfort and sour frown.

Then she realized it: those stories disappointed her enough for her to be concerned about it. If she was this fraught over it, she then questioned if it was even humanly possible to feel so much dissatisfaction at one time. It clogged her mind and heart and arteries like her own blood.

No—her disappointment was a sickness.

Sure she was no genius in the English language but it couldn't have been humanly possible for a native English-speaker to butcher their own language. No person should be able to butcher their native language like that! She had a little more sympathy to those that attempted to write a story in a language that wasn't their mother tongue, but…but…but!

How could one write such cliché, tacky stories and be okay with it? How could at least three-quarters of the entire archive have the same plots over and over again, with the same character depictions and the same plot twists and the same endings and the same predictability?

Wasn't there any originality in the soup of disappointment?

Oh there was. A sprinkle here and there. But it was always the good stories—the stories that elicited gasps and cries out of a girl who often didn't outwardly express those emotions—that were always being deleted. Or discontinued. Or unfinished. Or unpopular. It sickened her. Her disappointment continued to swell inside of her.

If she didn't do something quick, she would explode. Her parents would have fun scraping her off the wall.

Well, it wasn't like they were there to do that if her untimely explosion were to happen. They were off to the Land of Divorcement, after who knows how long, and wouldn't be back until who knew when.

She surely didn't.

But that was beside the point. The point was that Rima was sickened by the website's—no, that specific archive's—lack of…lack of actual care. It seemed like if she wiped her ass and posted her shit onto the website for all to enjoy she'd be praised with thousands of thoughtless, repetitive comments.

With her mission clear, Mashiro Rima left her room to head downstairs. It would be a long, perilous journey, but someone had to grow the balls to do it. In her favorite polka-dotted mug, she filled it with hot chocolate—winter was brutal that year, with its merciless atomic bombs of snow falling atop poor Seiyo—and grabbed the basket of chocolate chip cookies she baked last night. After that she grabbed a bag of chips and a few onigiri from the fridge.

Once she was prepared she returned to her room and sat on her bean bag. She placed her snacks around her, placed her laptop atop her thighs, and gave her fingers a crack.

Rima wasn't much of a writer, but she knew good material when she saw it. And, just like that pathetic excuse of a comedian she once rescued from certain doom, she'd work to make that archive something again.

Or her parents would have fun peeling her intestines off the wall.

"Alright," she breathed, "let's get this over with."

As she began to type, she kept in mind that the changes she so desired wouldn't happen overnight.

Eventually.

She was okay with that.

A/N: There you have it—I'm doing a guide. I feel a lot more qualified to do it, especially since I've matured a lot in my writing and since Shugo Chara!'s archive could use the help. I've seen only a few good drops of stories in the soup of disappointment, but hopefully this guide will help that fact change.

Hopefully all the stories here will be good.

I'm not sure what the first lesson will be about, but I'm going to make a list so I don't lose track. I hope you all enjoyed this and I hope you all will learn something from this.

Also, do remember: I'm flawed as well. If I make a mistake or if something is unclear, do tell me. It helps me become better as a writer.

See you all later! And Happy New Years!

~Meme