A little over a week ago, I had a very vivid dream. I woke up, wrote it down, and tried to let it go.
I tried lots of diversionary tactics. I made scones. I cleaned things. Multiple things. I WATCHED GENERAL HOSPITAL.
Still didn't work.
So I gave in.
I now find myself in the precarious position of waiting for a revision letter for HOURGLASS and drafting my second contracted book for Egmont - while fighting with The Shiny, dream-inspired new idea.
The Shiny showed up completely plotted with fully-formed characters and an ACTUAL ENDING. This is part of what makes it so irresistible and ... shiny. And, Holy Stephenie Meyer Batman, any Young Adult writer worth his or her salt who has a dream knows to write that beeyotch down. (I am happy to tell you that no one sparkled or drank the blood of mountain lions for sustenance in my dream, but the desire to kill was involved.)
Which means when it comes to blogging? I got nothin'. I mean, I don't even have a good kid story. Everyone left their pants on this week, we didn't run over any Laughing Cow cheese displays in the grocery store, and no one stuffed any glittery Christmas ornaments into their unders.
OH, oh! Here's something. The night after I had the dream about the The Shiny, I had another dream.
Tom Selleck as Magnum PI came to my house and whisked me away to the Robin's Nest in Hawaii. Higgins was there, along with Rick, TC and the Ferrari.
Also there? The 'stache.
Rest assured, I will not be turning this into a YA novel.
As for why ... well ... draw your own conclusions.