Go read THIS article.
If it's too long, then the gist of it is that this guy created a computer program that can create music by assimilating other music and rearranging it. That's a gross oversimplification. You should really read the article.
It made me think though. Are all my books just gutters in which the flotsam and jetsam of my daily life collect and organize into a semi-choerent form? The names I use for characters, the songs they like, they way the dress. Are they all just bits and pieces of my life?
Better yet, are my books living dreams? If dreams are my subconscious' way of making sense of the world, are my books just dreams that I have while awake? We call it inspiration but maybe writers just process the world in ways that seem alien to other people.
Or maybe I'm just a computer program running on a server somewhere and this dream of existence is just a glitch in the system. A hiccup as I sort through data.