One day, as I was scrolling through my Steemit feed, as I usually do at least a couple of times a day, I stopped on a post titled ''Something I once writ...'' by 
''Writ?'' I thought to myself. ''That can't be right...''
I opened the post to see what it was about.
What stared back at me was a piece of writing screeching:
''I want to be a novel! Make a novel out of me, nooooowwww!''
''Whoa there, cowboy...'' I gasped, as the piece sucked me into a vortex.
Spinning through time and space continuum, I saw all kind of scenery flashing around me, from a graphic scene of a man's birth to one's first intercourse. To my own surprise, I was lucky enough to not feel dizzy or nauseous at all. The only extreme thing was I almost got hit in the face with a chair, as props from different scenes flew past me.
Suddenly, someone pulled the brakes, as I found myself standing in a pitch black room behind a transparent wall. Well, from my angle. But I have a feeling it didn't even exist on the other side.
''There you are!'' a friendly voice approached me, as I coughed out some ashes alongside a cigarette butt. I turned around to see
''I've been waiting for you. How do you like it so far?''
Confused by his question, I looked around, trying to understand where I was and what was going on.
He gestured towards the transparent wall: ''I'm talking about the novel, of course.''
''The novel? Aren't novels supposed to be in a written form?'' I asked with a lifted eyebrow.
''Oh, that's just the preview. Come, join me at the desk.''
''Observe,'' he sat down behind the typewriter. He then stretched his fingers and started typing. As his letters formed words and words formed sentences, whatever he wrote about took place behind the transparent wall. Not a single sound came out of my mouth, as I kept turning my head to the typewriter and to the wall, with my jaw dropped from astonishment.
''So... How do you like it? I'm thinking of making it a crowd-sourced novel.''
''I love it so far! You're making it a what, though?'' I asked after a while.
''The idea is simple. This is a novel and I'm writing it... BUT I also want others to contribute to it, write chapters of their own, come up with more original characters, scenes, props, whatever! It's like having a whole ton of authors instead of just one.''
''Oh, m-may I?'' I stuttered, trembling from a burst of adrenaline, knowing anything I'd type would happen behind the wall in front of me.
He then stood from his chair, making me some room.
''Be my guest, but keep in mind, this is a typewriter. Whatever you type with it can not be deleted. Try not to make any typos either, they'll have a weird effect on it. Trust me, it's not good.''
And so I took a seat at the desk. I rest my fingers on the typewriter and started typing...
This story wasn't exactly a contribution to the novel itself, rather than an introduction / shameless advertisement of the novel. I'll definitely write something myself, too. Not sure when exactly, but soon... I hope.
If you're interested in joining in on writing this crowd-sourced novel, be sure to check out the #novelcrowd tag and the ''Something I once writ...'' posts by