I enjoyed this. I almost want to know what happens after Mulder actually reads the novel, but I like how left it hanging there, so it's more ambiguous.

He wonders if he's trapped in the pages on some metaphysical level, the last remnants of his consciousness made manifest in typewritten lines.

This line made me automatically think of Fringe. You just know Walter Bishop would be able to build a machine to get Reggie Purdue's consciousness out of the manuscript and into, I don't know, a lemon or something?