At this point, as we’re making the mad dash towards the finish, it’s tempting to say, “I’ll just eat whatever I can get my hands on” or “I can sleep after this is all done.” Although there certainly are concessions that have to be made, it is even more crucial during crunch-time to take care of yourself as much as possible. That means eating some damn vegetables, and getting to bed each night. Sure, this may not be the best time to try that juice cleanse that your aunt keeps bringing up, but you should at least try to keep your body from double-crossing you when you need it most.
Last night, I had a dream of a lush storyscape. Full of characters and beautiful scenery. There were accents and glorious tension. There was physical attraction, and oh the dialogue: natural and unique, the likes of a Hollywood-Dickensian lovechild.
I rose from my bed, grabbing an old book. A library book, bought at a used book fair. I opened to the pages and started to write in the margins, over the words themselves. It felt dirty. It felt so wrong, but I was so happy. Happy that these wonderful characters and their wonderful-er world hadn’t slipped from my nocturnal fingers.
And as I watched the ink bleed through each aged page…as I studied it, relieved that I had it all down…
That, dear reader, is when I actually woke up.
I woke up, realizing that not only had I not, in fact, captured this tale from my slumber but…
It was just a Harry Potter knock-off.