Saturday night I was plagued with nightmares. All night. All bloody night. I may as well have stayed up watching horror movies and never went to sleep at all. But after last night I've begun to think my body and mind was cleansing itself and shaking out all the nasty skeletons it could find in the closet. (Or at least a very good lot of them.) Because last night I dreamt....my story. Not exactly in the way I mean to write it, but near enough that I knew the people even though I called them by different names, and I knew the places even though they weren't what my dream self expected, and I knew precisely what was going on, like I'd always been there, always lived there. I went home.
Paulo Coelho said today, "Don't forget to pay attention to the omens that are guiding you to your dreams." It seems the omens are my dreams right now, which works quite well for me. How else will I ever be with my characters?
My husband also told me a few days ago, "Just make sure you know how to get back out of the rabbit hole." It's so easy to say I will. But sometimes I just don't know...
21 days and counting...
Yours Truly,
Mrs. C
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