The eight VP instructors examined the dog-eared, coffee-stained beast. And Jim MacDonald saw that it was Good.
"Go forth, my minions," he ordered. "Find us the person who has created such a unique work."
So the VP staff did follow the dripping trail of purple prose until they came upon a featureless clay lump of humanity.
"What is this?" Mac asked.
"I believe it is a writer," Kate answered.
Bart nodded. "It is malleable. That is good."
So the VP staff did bring their find and presented it to the instructors. After much consultation, the instructors did surround the clay and began to mold it.
"I grant it the gift of plot," proclaimed MacDonald.
"I grant it the gift of language," Doyle pronounced.
Bear drew her mystic symbols in the air. "I grant it the gift of structure."
Teresa laughed. "I grant it the gift of world building."
Laura considered carefully, then touched the clay upon the head. "Storytelling shall be what I give it."
"And business sense," added Scalzi. "That is my gift to this wondrous creature."
"Character development." Stevie Chuckles circled the clay. "Or at least the verisimilitude of character. This shall be my gift."
"Good sense!" Patrick announced. "Proper manners! The ability to converse with writers, editors, agents and publishers at conventions. Knowledge of spelling--"
"Only one!" MacDonald roared. "Pick one."
"Oh, all right. I grant it the knowledge of How It Works."
So the eight VP instructors looked upon their creation, the wee baby writer, and saw that it was Good. And so they released it into the wild so that it could propagate the Manuscript.
And it was Good.