Thursday, March 01, 2018

Dream Journal Entry 3.14159265...

A few nights ago, I dreamed that my paternal grandfather was still alive, and that he was driving my father's old, black, late 60s Buick. It broke down half-submerged in water, and I had to fix it underwater. I needed a snorkel, but for some reason mine was broken. I went from store to store and shop to shop trying to buy a new one, but they were all broken, or didn't work.

Keep in mind that IRL I do not own a snorkel, nor do I know doodlysquat about car repair.

So now Trump wants to do away with due process for gun owners who might be a problem. Yeah, I'm all for sane reform, but doing away with the constitution isn't the answer.

I've decided to work on a few short stories before I gear up for another novel. It never ceases to amaze me how sometimes the story or characters take on a life of their own, and things go off in their own direction. While I try to leave things alone at times to let the creative juices simmer, this does illuminate the importance of writing every day. My brain is much more in a creative zone when I'm actually being creative.


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