I LOVE sleep. Some of you might be surprised to hear me say such a thing. I much more frequently proclaim, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead!” The latter statement is a reaction to how busy my life gets and how little sleep I am typically permitted if I am to stay productive.
But when I do get to sleep, a sense of peace envelops me. I start to put my day into perspective and file away the stress for another time. I always read before closing my eyes for the night. The plight of my characters or the magical world they live in or the decision they have to make bleeds into my dreams. The colors and sounds and sensations fill my imagination creating stories and characters with lives and histories of their own.
Occasionally, my anxiety will get the best of me turning these lovely visions into nightmares. Oddly, the ones that get my heart racing always involve Kevin. I suppose it’s my feelings of inadequacy working themselves out in my sleep.
Most of the time, my beautiful mind treats me to fresh ideas. She whispers in my ears until the visions form into seeds of stories. This morning, I awoke with the image of a woman exiting a taxi with her daughter in hand in front of an old mansion turned bed and breakfast. The woman’s mother used to work as a maid at the bed and breakfast when the woman was a child the same age as her daughter. They left when the daughter of the owner died in a tragic accident. This owner is on her death bed now and invited the woman to visit with her daughter so the old woman could say her good-byes. The twist being, there is a demon who lives in the mansion who demands the sacrifice of a little girl every 25 years, in trade for prosperity to the owner’s family. My dream left me no names. However, the images are clear and haunting. I shall make this my next short story.
I can’t wait to sleep again. Maybe I’ll take a nap now. Or not. I have a Girl Scout ceremony tonight, chapters 11 and 12 of my book to finish, some cleaning to do, a webpage to design, and so forth. I better get back to the grind stone!
If you’re interested in haunting imagery and suppressed childhood trauma, try Stephen King’s It. Hands down one of my favorite books of all time. I have read it multiple times traveling with these old friends as they beat their demons both imaginary and real. Besides a very disturbing, too young to be sexual scene, the rest of the book brings chills to your spine in the way you hope a horror book will.
Read more books!