: The rule of writing states "Don't break the fourth wall". That means don't remind the reader they are the reader, they read a book, the characters are in a book. Immersion is a volatile

@Lee1909368

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The rule of writing states "Don't break the fourth wall".
That means don't remind the reader they are the reader, they read a book, the characters are in a book. Immersion is a volatile thing and worth fighting for - if the reader forgets the world around them and the book they hold in hand, but just lives and feels together with the protagonist, in the world of your story, you're succeeding - it's what puts mediocre stories apart from really good ones.
But as every rule, this one can be broken too. Break it if you want to achieve certain effects. Be it the narrator playing coy with the reader, be it humor, be it sixth sense of a character detecting the reader observing them, be it merging the worlds, the protagonists achieving a new level of consciousness and reaching across dimensions out to the reader, requesting their personal aid.

Let me quote a fragment from my most recent story, to give an example.
There's this horse - a sapient mare - right here with the protagonist (1st person narrator), inside his apartment. A bunch of thugs try to storm the apartment but circumstances (including the landlord with an Airsoft gun on a balcony above) really play against them. And including the mare standing with her back turned right towards the doorway. Two of them met her hind hooves already. Since the protagonist is in the room, without any clear view outside, most of the thug actions are reported through sounds.

Landlord's voice. “I'll keep shooting until you leave. I've got three hundred BBs in here, and another five thousand in the room.”
Another series of cracks, and several thug voices cursing in sequence. They ran around the corner of the building. [...]
Through the closed drapes I saw movement outside the window.
“Look, that's a window to his apartment.”
“Slab, did you take that molotov?”
“On a skirmish? Are you stupid? Someone hits me and I'm all soaked in gasoline.”
“Frank, go fetch the angle grinder. We'll cut the bars on the window.”
“You go yourself.”
“The hell?”
“You've got hair. You got any clue how much these things hurt on a bald head?”
“Fine... pussy.”
Steps running. Another burst from the AUG from above.
A moment of silence, sound of a lighter. Window opening. Cracks of BBs being launched at some six hundred FPS right onto heads of the thugs. Curses, steps running back around the corner. “Not inside!”
For a second Celestia stood only on her front hooves, as her hind legs swung in a graceful arc. A dull thud. Have you ever seen a smug horse? Imagine a smug horse. And now imagine it being twice as smug. That was Celestia at the moment.

This is the narrator being coy with the reader. It's a humorous scene where the serious enemy force met a very ragtag but surprisingly efficient resistance. The narrator is amused. The reader is amused. The mare is very amused. We can afford a small wink towards the reader, and break the fourth wall for a second, instructing them how to imagine the scene just right - just for added comical effect.

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