[ WP ] You turn on your PC to keep working on your novel , but to your surprise , when you open the file , it is writting itself . You read some of what has already been written and it seems your characters have created free will , and the plot is progressing without you .

I let out a heavy sigh as I prepared to open the file. 
 
 `` Dammit,'' I thought. `` I have n't even written a thousand words yet and NaNoWriMo's almost over. What the hell do I do now?'' 
 
 One click of the mouse, and my eyes went wide. 
 
 `` What.'' 
 
 The page was full of beautiful prose, believable dialogue, and compelling action scenes - somehow, a narrative of interconnected first-person narratives had sprawled across the page overnight. I wondered who could have done this as I began skimming the vast display of content. 
 
 Somehow my decision to have multiple protagonists succeeded; the thematic interplay between Brian's unlikely conquest of Hell and Jacob/Heidi's mending of the multiversal bridge was sheer genius. Somehow Lucifer was an interesting and strangely likable antagonist instead of a cliche storm, even when there were three of him running around. And somehow, all of the little plot hooks involving pocket dimensions, sleep-based magic powers, and Echo's numerous possible futures stitched together quite nicely. 
 
 It was a miracle. 
 
 And that miracle was continuing to write itself! 
 
 I watched, transfixed, as Sama'el revealed his tragic backstory and traded his demonic claws for angelic wings. My jaw dropped as Grace confidently employed the mystic powers of the Nameless Deity. And I could n't help but giggle in bemusement as my avatar, Chiron, desperately tried to wrangle his way into the forefront of the story, only to be humorously set back by some ridiculous contrivance. 
 
 When the words stopped falling on the screen, and the revelation that the plot occurred as it had thanks to the gentle, but beneficial influence of a greater power, I was relieved that this literal deus ex machina fit the premise of the story and was written in such a way that I felt was n't likely to offend many theists or atheists. 
 
 More impressive still was the incredulous, almost jubilant response my characters had, in both dialogue and prose. I realized that they must have somehow taken life and written my abandoned work themselves. 
 
 My delight was so strong as I imagined the possibilities that I worked myself into a frenzy. 
 
 Unfortunately, that caused me to wake up. 
 
 `` DAMMIT,'' I groaned to myself, yanking the covers off in disappointment. 
 
... 
 
 ``... hey, wait. That gives me an idea!''
