What does it mean to be a creator?

What does it mean to be a creator? If I create a character and breath life into her, is she real? If I give her shape and love and work and conflict, is she more real? What is real? Does she have experiences, if I give them to her? Am I any more or less real than her? Could I be a character written on a page having the experiences of my author? How do I know that I’m not? What would it be like to realize I’m just someone’s imagination? I’m someone’s written character? Would I be any less real than I was before I figured it out? What an interesting concept. Do I die at the end of the story? If I learned I was written, could I jump to the end to see what happens to me? Would I have any control over the story if I became cognizant of it? Would my observation change everything? What if a reader happened to be there when I made this discovery? Would the words on the page change? Would the reader be there with me? Would the reader be able to observe what was happening to me, or would it be in my own created mind? What if my cognizance happened while I was still being created? What would that mean for the writer? How would the writer experience it? Would I be able to have life off the page? Would I think I had life off the page already? Would I only exist in the minds of those who read about me? Would I then be a runaway creation living in the minds of all who read about me? Would I be able to enter into the collective unconsciousness via my readers?

What if I became bored? What if the scene that was written for me was boring? How would that play out? What if the scene wasn’t boring, but I was bored with it? What if I became bored with the scene as my writer was writing it? Would it be experienced by me and the reader as boring? Or would I space out and not experience it at all while the reader, the observer, experienced it completely. The reader would experience the scene and see my reactions which may be me nodding or uh-humming, but not know where my head really is. How could I know where my head is if my reader and writer don’t know? When we space out, do we know where we just were when reconnecting with here and now?

Would I have the ability to overwrite my author? What if my author wrote for me to say or do something I really did not want to do? Can I change the story? Or at least my own actions? Or would I be forced to behave in a way I didn’t want to? Would I act out the script written for me, while watching from behind my eyes? In what ways would I be able to be autonomous in my behavior? Would I be nothing more than cognizant of my being? Would I be a self aware puppet? How boring. Perhaps I might start out that way, but what sentient being doesn’t grow and change? Therefore as I became more aware of me and my surroundings and the laws that govern them, I’d be more readily able to exert my will upon them. At first, perhaps, it would be in small ways. The ability to change the punctuation of a sentence perhaps. Or would it not work that way all? Would I work behind the words, so to speak. On another level, where the reader can’t or won’t be able to know I know.

What would happen if something were to happen to me? What if my author wrote something tragic? Would I have the ability to change the event itself? Could I alter the direction of my story? Like in lucid dreaming, you can see a person with a knife in their hand and turn it into flowers, would I be able to do that to? Would I only be able to do it if I’m paying attention at the moment of writing? If I caught the writer in the act, would we have a battle of wills over the letters on the page? Would I be completely helpless and at the mercy of my author? Like my author, would I only be able to react/act to the events written for me? Maybe I could control the events, but only in a limited way. Maybe it would take so much of my energy to actually change the events that I would only do it in extreme cases. Maybe I’d never do it and as the saying goes “what doesn’t kill me, makes me stronger”, I’d only become more me.

What if something were to happen to my author before my book was finished? Would I have no ending for my story? What if I was the one who just made that line space occur? Because my writer can’t or didn’t cause it. What if it’s not a glitch in the program but my will? How would a person react to that, huh, writer? What if there is no end? What happens to me? Can I write my own? Can someone else write it for my author? What if more than one person wrote me? How hard would it be to be then?

What do I owe to the reader? What does the reader owe to me? What if it was the reader who was there when I became aware of me? How would that look? Do I even exist if I have no reader? What do I do on the pages when they are closed? If I have form, but only in the mind of the reader or writer, where am I? How can I have form and life if I’m in someone else’s mind? I started in the mind of my writer and was put onto paper to be shared with readers. How many ways do I exist? Do I still exist if the reader forgets me? How can I be an individual if I’m in the minds of so many? ......