Thursday, November 02, 2006

The Wee Small Hours

I got up to work because of a bad dream that needed time to dispel before I could sleep again.

It, the dream, is an old friend. A recurrent theme from my past, my subconscious drags out when I am worried about something else. Knowing why doesn't make the dream less real, nor solve my current dilemma, but writing allows me to escape for a while even if elements of the dream work their way into the story.

As in my currrrent story, where the hero has just realized an unpleasant fact he can share with no one, which is difficult because his companions are telepaths.

I don't worry too much. There's always the rewriting stage to remove irrelevancies created in the wee small hours

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