10.00 a.m. breakfast with my agent at Bumpkins Beach Bar, Antigua to discuss the opportunity for a sequel, to novel number 6 and the film rights for my autobiographical romp … My Overactive Imagination.
Awake at dawn again, I made a cup of coffee, took it back to bed and started working on my WIP, but ended up drifting off. I was happy with how the interaction between my main protagonist and another key character was going when I must have drifted […]
Sometimes during a rare night of deep sleep, I dream about some cracking plotlines and try to wake myself up to write them down. More often than not, when I do manage to wake myself up, I can’t remember them.
BIZARRE DREAM RECALL – WHAT TRIGGERS OUR DREAMS?
More recently I dream my worldly goods are on the back of a hand-drawn cart. I keep putting my dog and three cats on the back of the cart. They keep jumping off and I repeatedly put them back, but eventually, they run away and I can’t find them. My wallet is something else I regularly lose in my dreams and I end up roaming the streets with nothing more than the clothes I am wearing. Brexit angst?
“Do you own this comma?’
“I do M’lady, yes, his name is Cid and I also own that full stop.”
“Do you know that Cid is in the wrong place?”
So what triggered my subconscious to weave teleportation into my dream?
The atmosphere is intense. I am feeling a little nervous now. It is almost time to deliver my important one liner to Maggie and I lean, a little too heavily, on a piece of the scenery which brings the whole set crashing down around the revered actors.
I suffer from Arachnophobia
at the best of times … in fact anything with a 8 legs and a plump, hairy abdomen and I’m off. So, why would I dream about a tarantula crawling across my face and open mouth?