Yes, maybe, no, she, they, he, white, grey, black, answers, responses, shade. All have a balance beginning middle end. The fact that they are existing all at once from allowed laws of physics or magic to intervene. Anyway the point was that there was always an idea out there.
The author threw the colour changing ball up and down. Really running out of ideas for what started as a great way to explain and explore the possibility of worlds that belonged to that of words.
SI, right they weren't looking forward to being stuck in last of us again. Or Harry Potter. Actually that last one was kinda fun. They got to see Voldemort go nuts. Haha she could remember saying she had his nose.
OC. Ha because that started so well last time. Explaining why there was a TARDIS in the living room to their flat mate was an excellent start to the day, especially when said roommate had been out the night before and they were hungover. And why there was a fez that was found in the toaster.
AU, maybe. Writing in an existing universe about an alternative universe was always a blast. Goldilocks the vampire slayer. Cinderella the steampunk princess. Oh wait, warfare in wonderland, that made them giggle.
See many perfect ideas.
Then why was this so hard! The author slammed their head against the desk repeatedly. "I wish the world would just let me write!" She screamed into a mumbled stack of paper with way too many scribbles to be decoded. "I hate everything right. ...Ow,"
The author had managed to knock their head through the paper pile and actually onto the hard desk. She growled annoyed. Her roommate knocked on the door of their shared office.
"How is the story going?" The roommate asked.
The author looked up at them and raised an eyebrow. "If I kill you in it, and no sarcasm here, it's because I am going to be nuts." Then slammed their face back on the desk. Painful expressions passed the Roomates face as they wondered how to check for concussions. Seeing the author was fine they looked at the graffitied whiteboard.
"Why not use the rules?"
"There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are. So I can't use them!"
"How 'bout a wager?" Roomate looked around at the pieces of paper.
"What?" They moped.
"Send yourself into it. If you hate it, post it, people generally like what you wouldn't like because it was made by you. If you like it then I'll take you to London for a few weeks." That wasn't really a wager but they hoped the author would take it.
"Fine!" Came a muffled response. "Wait! Allow me to rant here: you should never base a character on yourself. It just sets you up for viewing the character as you, rather than as a tool with which to write a story, and then you become attached and don't want to make anything bad happen to the character because that's you, and you also don't want to show the character's bad side because you'd like to present yourself in the best light, and before you know it you've turned your character into a Sue. So I can't send myself into it, cause I will mess it up".