Who's a silly pony?

>Day literature in Equestria
>It's the big day!
>Your new book has been rocketing to the top of the charts, and you're about to have your first book signing.
>The book was the result of your observations since winding up in Equestria.
>You wrote it as a self-help book of sorts.
>You polish a copy of the book, then stand it up, smiling at the title.
>"Who's A Silly Pony?  Accepting the Quirks Within Ourselves"
>Hardly a day goes by without somep0ny stopping you on the street and getting excited about how much the book had changed their life.
>Already you could see ponies lining up outside the bookstore.
>Straightening your tie, you take a seat.
>The doors open, and you smile.
>The day mostly goes smoothly.  Many books are signed, some cutie marks are signed, and you give a few slapped together words of wisdom now and then.
>Eventually, an orange pony in a trench coat, stetson, and over-sized sunglasses comes up, looking around nervously.

>Her country girl accent brightens your smile a bit as she greets you.
>She sets seven books in front of you, then looks over her shoulder briefly.
>"Uh... these 're fer mah friends.  Ah read yer book 'n' ah wanna share yer wisdom with th' five--SIX-- The six of 'em.  They're th' best fi-er--six friends that a mare could ask fer."
>Her face scrunches up a bit, her blonde mane pulled to the side of it.
>You'd bet that behind those sunglasses her eyes were darting about.
>With a smile, you open the front cover of each book in turn, writing a brief note, then signing beneath it.
>When you get to the last one, you pause, noting that it was almost falling apart from being read so much.
>The paper cover that it came in was taped together, and many pages had their corners turned down.
>You pause, turning the book over in your hands.  Thumbing through it a bit, you see a few passages underlined, or notes jotted in the margins.
>The entire thing smelled faintly of apples.
>"Err... uh.. A-Ah'm sure you've got... um... lotsa other ponies waitin' fer yer... uh... s-signature..." she stammers out, shuffling on her hooves nervously.
>You smile over the book, then flip back to the inside cover.  You write a little note on the inside again, then sign.

>After a moment of thought, you fish out a business card, scribble something on the back, then close the book around it.
"It's good to meet someone that gets so much out of my work, apparently."
>You slide the book across the table.
>With a slight blush on her cheeks, she tucks it away.
>"Th.. thank ya kahndly, Mr. Anonymous.  Y'all have a good day now, y'hear?"
>Hastily, they run off.
>Later that night, in the privacy of her own room, she opens the book and looks at the back of the card.
[Saturday, 8:30pm, The Last Noodle.  Dinner?]
>Her face turns scarlet, remaining that way until she falls asleep.