I tend to have really detailed, really messed up, soul-destroying dreams that tend to leave me writhing in bed and wondering who boiled my reality. I guess everyone has dreams that are so real that they make you shiver. I used to not dream though. I chalk up my current situation to my strange sleep patterns, and medication.
I've been doing brainstorming for Del & Huck, for about the next 80 pages or so, and I think I have things worked out so far. I was really unclear about it at first, it was this gaping hole between where I was and where I wanted to go. But as the days pass and I think about it more and more, it is making more sense and becoming more concrete.
I was having a crisis of confidence with Year I Slept, but I kind of get it now. It's important that I have two books about Q, Year I Slept, and Purple Butterfly. Year I Slept is about me though, whereas Purple Butterfly is more about her. The first is a realistic novel, mostly, while the second is very surreal and kind of silly in a sad way.
I need to have both as companions... I think because I have to explain my feelings about the matter in Year I Slept, but I want to have an unclouded monument to her with Purple Butterfly. Anyways, this is what I've been thinking of lately....