13 Floors at Hotel Novelisto

Thirteen floors of writer prerogatives. Why only thirteen? Because it's a scary number. Or maybe because anymore would be too boring. Or because I'm too lazy to build higher. Let's go with the foremost former, shall we?

1st Floor:

Where mistakes can be undone with the press of a backspace key

2nd Floor:

Where the use of subliminal messaging is perfectly ethical

3rd Floor:

Where things can be uttered in dialogue that would never be repeated elsewhere

4th Floor:

Where having multiple voices in one's head is legitimized

5th Floor:

Where worlds can be created that scare the shit out of one reader while sending another into a euphoric trance

6th Floor:

Where authors come to become licensed pilots of time machines

7th Floor:

Where a god complex can be exercised without pissing off God ***citation needed

8th Floor:

Where the opposite sex is finally understood (maybe but probably not)

9th Floor:

Where newbrand words can be made up at will

10th Floor:

Where one sentence may be obsessed over for days while the follow-up paragraph is completed in seconds

11th Floor:

Where authors can help readers forget about their own worries while stressing the hell out of them out with fictional worries

12th Floor:

Where words become puppet strings that control a tsunami of reader emotion

13th Floor:

Where very annoying people become characters that subsequently get thrown from the window with great joy