There's nothing like it. No editing yet, no reading a preceding paragraph wondering where it's headed, just an empty screen waiting for black on white imagination to fill it.
I suspect a tome of a novel that's been in the works for 4.5 billion years or so won't reach an ending in a few weeks. Regardless of this world gone or not, however many doorways open into unfamilar rooms, that blank page will be always there, waiting. How cool is that?
Hey, maybe the next group of calender makers will use a pic of a fireman instead.