"The time has come," the walrus said,
"To talk of many things.
Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax,
Of cabbages and kings.
And why the sea is boiling hot
And whether pigs have wings!"
Through the Looking-Glass, by Lewis Carrol

"There shall be a meeting of the wise ones," proclaimed The Author in deep tones, "and all of my advisors shall attend. ALL of you."
They gathered quickly to His summons, forming a vast circle around him. Some were closer than others. The closer they were, the clearer the image.
"The problem, my advisors, is that my stories aren't doing what I want them to. The characters are alive. It cannot continue. The evidence is you yourselves. You have thoughts that I do not, even though you are creations of my mind. Explain."
"Quite simply, you're insane. Multiple personality disorder, although it isn't very strong yet."
"Disassociative Identity Disorder. The name was changed, recently."
"Same difference."
"Shut up."
"You shut up."
The two figures began arguing, and then others joined in. A brawl developed. Sparks of magic power and creative force eruptd everywhere. The Author quickly left, and shut and locked the door. No more. Well, at least not until the fight ended.