Dream #25

I was in the main room of an old, Victorian house with PB and a group of several others. We were going to be attacked from unknown, supernatural assailants and we could only defeat them by each playing our own music on those old Underwood typewriters. It was going to somehow simultaneously harmonize at the precise moment and send out some sort of musical blast that would shatter the creatures at just the right moment. The girl who was sitting next to me had given me some other, electric typewriter instead. PB and I were upset with each other but not saying anything. We had been involved in the past and I had left him or he had left me and there was all of this tension. So somehow the wrong typewriter was representative of things being wrong between us. I started flipping out that this wasn't going to work without the Underwood and he drags me off into some other room and we start yelling at each other that it's the other's fault. He yells at me that I left him and it's my fault and why would I do that and I scream back, "I did it to save your life!" and then clap my hands over my mouth like I wasn't supposed to ever let him know that. He's all shocked and asks, "What?" I finally let it out (after three years, apparently - oh, and apparently I'm psychic and have visions and am occasionally being controlled by some one or some force) that I'd seen that if I had gone with him or not left him, that he would have died. I say to him quietly, "I would have given up anything to be with you. Everything. Except..." and he finishes with, "my life." 

And then we make out. 

So after that loveliness, we go back into the main room and the right typewriter is there, and I tell everybody the whole plan because now that I have my true love back and made out with him in the middle of the apocalypse, which always makes so much sense, I can be open again. And he and I sit next to each other at our typewriters and the whole group plays them like pianos and shatters all of the bad guys at the precise last moment and I have no idea who the other guys all were but yay, they were all saved, too. 

And then my alarm woke me up and I got a charlie horse and I had to walk to the bus in the snow and it sucked.

(forgive the punctuation, grammar, whatever)

Dream R and Book R (Dream #24)

This one was from a few days ago:

I told R (not my R, but his namesake) that I loved him. R also loved me, but had this weird ailment: his skin retained too much moisture. He told me that he had to go live in the desert because it was super dry and would keep his skin from...something. Excess wetness? Something weird and dreamy that doesn't make any sense at all in real life. I told him that we could have a long-distance relationship, because apparently my love for R didn't extend to living in the desert.

As far as book R goes, I have started the first chapter of the rough draft, finally. However, while working on that first paragraph, I began to have a feel for R's voice (good) and realized that I'll need to bulk up my science & math vocabulary to write him. I really did pick the most impossible book to write. And, since it had been so long since I'd worked on it, by the time I sat down and opened Scrivener, I couldn't even remember his best friend's name. I had been thinking Tom, not Alex(ander). I also remember almost nothing of the months of scientific research I did over the past year or so. Awesome. I'm going to have to work on it consistently if I want to retain enough to make any significant progress. 

However, that being said, I have a good feeling about it. I think the writing, slow that it is, has potential. I'm sure it will need a ton of editing, which fills me with dread, but I'm going to keep plodding forward. It's either that or go live in the desert with my fictional, wet-skinned boyfriend.