In an infinite white space, with no doors or windows, a faceless being waits. It does not speak. It does not move… until something changes.
Your gaze affects it. Your attention gives it existence.
This is not an ordinary book about writing. It is an experiment. A journey where the writer does not dictate the fate of their characters, but instead observes them as they come to life on their own.
What would happen if, instead of controlling every action of your creations, you simply let them exist?
Welcome to the experiment.
Prologue: The Door to the Experiment
Close your eyes.
Imagine a white room, borderless and shadowless. There is no sound, no air, no time. It is a pure space, devoid of history, past, or future.
But something is there.
A table. A chair. And sitting in it, a faceless being. It has no identity. It has no name. It has no memories. It is just there.
And you, the writer, are the observer.
You cannot speak to it. You cannot command it to move. You can only watch and wait.
At first, nothing happens. It doesn't explore, it doesn't breathe, it doesn't grow restless. But it is alive. And when your gaze falls upon it, an imperceptible change occurs.
A slight twitch in the fingers.
An adjustment in posture.
A growing sense of presence.
The doubt is born: Has it reacted on its own… or because you are observing it?
This is the starting point of the experiment. We do not create characters; we discover them.
How far can it go if we do not stop it?
Welcome to The White Experiment