CHAPTER ONE

Genius. So you guessed it. This story is about a book.

Bravo, Reader, bravo.

Truly our nation is blessed with such an intelligent populace.

Alright. Fine. So the Author cannot have a Bit of Fun with the Readers. Also, it says in the Handbook that the Story May Not Be Centered On the Author. The Story Must Be Centered On the Characters and Plot.

Why, that stupid handbook. Insulting the Author like that. I ought to throw it in the garbage bin, right in the middle of the half-eaten jelly doughnut that that fat man just set in it. I'll do that right now.

Alas, my Conscience will not let me do it. Or, at least, I can't throw the wretched Handbook away because it's against the rules.

Curse you, Handbook!

Oh. It says in the Handbook that the Author May Not Use Profanity or Opinionate In Any Way. This Must Be Left to the Characters.

WHAT? How unfair. Really, I must write a letter to whoever wrote that idiotic, insensitive Handbook. I'll do it right away.

Blast. (I don't care about the Profanity Rule. Profanity is Entirely Necessary right now.) The Handbook says that I must Disregard Personal Desires Until the Main Character Had Been Introduced.

I must stay calm. I am the Author. I am all-powerful- over this story, at least. I must restrain myself. Squeeze stress balls. Do yoga.

Or perhaps introduce the blasted Main Character already.

Okay. Fine. I can take a hint. I'll introduce him.


His name was Frederick Montega. He was one of the Writers. More specifically, he was the Poet of the group.

Frederick Montega hated poetry. It confused him to the point of near-insanity. And because none of his fellow colleagues were Poets, they could never tell him when he had truly written a piece of brilliancy.

This, Reader, is why all Poets are dangerous.

And Frederick Montega was very dangerous.


Dear Samuel Waters;

I am writing this in regards to your Handbook for Authors. It has come to my attention that this Handbook has overruled many of the rights Authors should have. I have found it unfair and indifferent. It hinders my creative flow.

In other words, Mr. Waters, you are a nitwit.

I have never read such trash as your Handbook.

Therefore, it is my hearty advice that you remove your Handbook from existence- and once this has been done, could you please step into your bedroom, lock the door, and hide in a shoebox lest I seek you out with a pitchfork and crowbar.

Most Sincerely,

Author of Book