If On a Winter’s Twilight a Time Traveler

You read that second sentence, and you feel discovery, amazement, a chill, etcetera. You are rocked by the literary genius, and you turn the page to begin the next chapter immediately. Only the next page is blank. You turn the page again, the scarlet magic glow pulsating around your horn in your excitement and confusion, only to discover that the next pages are also blank. You flip quickly through the entire rest of the novel and discover that every page in the book is blank, save for the first chapter which you have just finished reading.

“Ah, yes, that happens sometimes,” says Minuette, from nearby. She looks sadly at the blank pages as they ripple in front of you. “There has only been one chapter written of If On a Winter’s Twilight a Time Traveler, by Minuette.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you ask her. “I like a novel that wraps itself up nicely and makes full use of every character and every plot thread, one that gives me the comfort in fiction that I cannot always find in real life. Yet this novel seems to have ended just at the very moment that its story was beginning to take form.”

“You may have to learn to live with this disappointment,” says Minuette. She walks closer to you, and you can feel the warmth of her coat beside you, despite the winter’s chill. “Or perhaps you must tell the rest of the story yourself… not written down and published, of course, for that is the author’s job, but in your head, or even in your actions to come, together with an interested party.”

You are still not sure about this. “It is not satisfying when a story ends abruptly,” you say.

Minuette shrugs. “It is, however, very artisti