I’m in the first camp. My dreams are always incredibly detailed and I usually remember them. I used to keep a dream journal. My therapist friends are especially interested in them, which, what does that say about me? (If you’re in the second camp, my apologies, though I assume you probably didn’t click the post in the first place…) Because I’m a promiscuous reader, I frequently dream about books and authors. Once, it was a quest to rescue an ancient, enchanted volume from a cabin in the middle of some creepy woods; I was repeatedly thwarted by an evil Zooey Deschanel. It was pretty awesome. Then there was the time when I found myself in a Sarah Waters-esque gothic setting—spooking house, just waiting for my plot twist. My favorite, though, was when I went to a Neil Gaiman book signing, only to learn he was retiring from writing to become a barber. These are just a few obligatory shares since I wrote this post about my own dreams as an excuse to hear about yours. Share away in the safe space that is the comments.
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