Write a story or scene in which one or more of the characters knows that they are in a story. How long have they known? Do they care? If you want, take it a step further: The narrator absolutely hates the main character.
Percy was a nice guy. His mother died when he was five, and as the youngest sibling in an all-male family, he was made by default the most effeminate of them. He had long, slick black hair, and smirk that gave off the aura of one who wanted to help others above all else.
One morning, Percy was looking at himself in the mirror, admiring his storybook-like features. Almost too storybook-like…Percy suddenly gasped, as though he had been submerged in water his entire life. He looked at his hands, his nose, his eyes, “my God, whoever drew me wasn’t even trying to fool me! Why would I be wearing a suit and tie if I just got up?!” Percy’s mind began to quickly connect the dots. He knew only a few things about himself, or the character that he was: he was nice, and he had slick black hair. “That means, we’re still in the exposition…” Percy began to sweat. What would happen when the story ended? Would he be free to do whatever he likes in the universe created for him, or would he cease to exist forever? The latter thought spread through his mind like a virus, and soon he was on his knees begging his creator to never let the story end, or at least keep it running for as long as he could. “Look man,” he whimpered, “I don’t know if this is gonna be a short story or a long story, if this is gonna be just a quick writing experiment or a novel, but don’t stop writing. Please.” No response. “You know, you’re the writer, you can talk to me if you want,” Percy suggested, as a queasy feeling rose in his stomach as he realized that he was fully at his creator’s mercy. “At least give me a friend”, Percy said, satisfied with the courageous tone with which the statement was delivered. Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and Percy looked up and smiled. “Thanks”, he whispered.