My friend Flip wrote fiction and worked as a para-legal for a big firm, and had a very organized mind, and a lot of time, although to be honest, what he produced was not so much fiction as ideas for fiction, contracts between himself and his (imaginary)audience that were never notarized. Not even signed.
Example: Flip would start with the basic idea of a detective solving a crime and then think to himself: Flip!
Meaning: How can I flip it? So he would write an outline where the murderer wants to be caught, and auditions the detective, out of so many detectives. So at the end of the day he had flipped the murderer from — WANTING NOT TO GET CAUGHT — to the opposite WANTING TO GET CAUGHT — and had flipped the plot from — A DETECTIVE TRIES TO SOLVE A CRIME — to A MURDERER TRIES TO FIND A DETECTIVE.
Further examples: He flipped a story about two lovers finding happiness to a story about happiness, an evanescent trait of bliss and oneness, seeking the two people who could give it a birth in this messy world.
Flip: Eric is not making up a character named Flip to give his readers something to mull over, but Flip is a real person making up Eric.
And Flip again: the relationship of Eric and Flip and Flip and Eric is a natural constituent of reality — the flip — and it is seeking the brains of its readers and writers to roost for a second in this swirling, boiling caldron of atoms, that calls us “life”.
And Flip again: the relationship of “flipping” is seeking out a flip, from flip to non-flip to finally find rest.
And having rested…TO AWAKE!