Years ago a buddy and I started a novel. The object was to write each other into a corner that you had to write your way out of. He died and his daughter has the finished chapters. I told her to keep them since it was no fun without her Dad. It was actually a lot of fun. We could write as little as a word or as much as we dared. He had a sick sense of humor and whenever I think about it,I swear I can hear him laughing.