I don’t normally take much stock in my dreams—they’re just a weird resurfacing of the subconscious. Something to laugh at in the morning as I tell Hubby about it.
Last night’s dream was different than usual. It held the contents of a complete novel, and I have a clear picture of both the protagonist and the antagonist. Really, I have a clear picture—I drew my protagonist in my inspiration journal, and gave a description of her clothes, character, and conflict that drives the plot forward.
During the dream, I remember scoffing at this character, saying “You’re such a wannabe Audrey Hepburn.” But even though I thought she was being pretentious, I started to respect and care about her more as the dream went on.
Weird, right? Do any of you have dreams like this?