A Challenge

Dear nonexistent readers,

Due to the impending doom and sneaky approach of midterms, it seems as though the days have inexplicably shrunk.

Apologies to all who have been here long enough to have read this post before, but I will be reposting an old post.

Authors are the ultimate problem-solvers. Think about it. They have solutions to everything, both possible and impossible, outside and inside of the imagination. How many narrow escapes have your favorite characters made? Daring last-minute rescues?

Every narrow escape and every daring last-minute rescue was planned and executed (with a pen) by the author.

They wrap up loose ends with a bow for their livings! There is no problem that an author cannot solve.

How many times have you stayed awake late into the night, biting your nails as you are sure that your slippery favorite character has finally met circumstances out of his or her unlimited capabilities? How sure were you that this was your slippery favorite character’s horrible demise? How many snotty tears of grief did you cry for your slippery favorite character’s inevitable end?

But how many times did your slippery favorite character reveal a complex plan to save them all that has been brewing since the first page? Or how many times did unexpected help arrive at the last moment?

The answer to this, dear nonexistent reader, is every single time because your favorite slippery character was slippery enough to slip through the cracks of the slippery pickle.

But you must remember, dear nonexistent reader, that an author not only solves the problem but creates the problem in the first place. Thus, the author can always create a solution because they, unlike the poor, slippery main character, can change the problem.

In an underground cell, deep under the ground with no possible means of escape, the author can provide the slippery main character with a bobby pin in his or her hair and the skills necessary to pick a lock.

On the brink of starvation, the author can provide the slippery main character with a bow and arrows and the skills necessary to hunt. (Or a gourmet meal prepared by an excellent chef could mysteriously appear on his or her slippery doorstep.)

So I challenge you, dear nonexistent reader, to solve this unsolvable problem. I challenge you, dear nonexistent reader, to save the slippery main character from his inevitable demise.

Character had never been trapped before. He had unlimited power and unending skill. He could do anything and everything the first time with utter perfection. But now, now he was trapped and he did not know what to do. His mind was blank. All the ideas that normally fought for space in his head had suddenly disappeared.

His arms were bound to his sides with iron bands. His legs were locked together similarly. He was trapped in a coffin-like steel box, sealed completely, except for five nickel-sized holes above his head for air, through which water was steadily trickling in.

The water was up to his wrists already, and it was so, so cold. No one knew where he was, where he could be. No one would’ve looked for him anyway.

A single thought bloomed like a golden crystal of snow in his otherwise empty mind, I am going to meet my inevitable demise…