Thursday, October 21, 2010


This morning I woke from a nightmare. No, that's not a metaphor. I really had a nightmare--an ordinary, run-of-the-mill bad dream. And it was just as horrible as I remembered.

I'm not a nightmare person. I rarely have them, probably because I'm a sunshine and posies person who doesn't often read or watch things that inspire nightmares, the simple reason being that I hate being scared.

Shows I stopped watching because they were too scary:


Books I Couldn't Read:

John Grisham's THE CLIENT (about young boys witnessing a suicide and being chased by the mob)
Dan Brown's THE DA VINCI CODE (yep, the self-flogging was too much for me)

just about anything depicting rape or serial killers (same category)

This doesn't mean anything for people who do like to be scared, or who can handle the emotional trauma of vicariously surviving through heinous crimes. But these things always give me nightmares.

In the spirit of writing research, I watched an old episode of Law and Order: Criminal Intent last night. I was up late watching it because night is the only time I can really focus on writing and reading without the kids or the hubz distracting me. (I do love my distractions!) It was hard to watch, but it was even worse when it seeped into what seemed like an ordinary dream.

I was going to a movie premiere with someone I didn't know, and random weird stuff happened there, like me wearing a micromini leather skirt (I may be channeling my latest character, Azalea, there). Other weird things included me trying to sneak a slinky into the theatre, my companion standing up to get everyone's attention and us getting shushed by the management. A group of kids off to the side had pink  hair and an obvious love triangle going on.

Normal. Weird. Dream.

Until the end, when I returned home to find my toddler choking on a square puzzle piece I couldn't dislodge and then my weird theatre buddy turned out to be a sociopath with one of the theatre managers in his closet...dead, of course.


And this is why I don't watch Law and Order or regularly research drug cartels.

Fortunately, I really don't know the stranger sociopath, so I don't have any cognitive dissonance toward anybody I have to see on a regular basis (that would be awkward), and YES, this morning I ran to my baby's room to listen at the door. When I didn't hear anything, I risked waking him just to check his breathing. He is perfectly fine, and was already awake babbling in his crib when I got there. *HUGE irrational sigh of relief*

What gives you nightmares?

Also, check out my post on Breaking Through the Wall: Writer's Block over at The Best Damn Creative Writing Blog. Me likes comments.

To sum up, nightmares=bad, comments=good.

If you need some cheering up after this nightmarish post, go visit Kelly who just typed THE END on her latest WIP! Or Lindsay, who's sharing some booklove, or Michelle, who has a cute picture of a dog digging up asphalt. My CP's will take good care of you. :)


  1. Up until I was 18, about 95% of my dreams were nightmares. Every single night I would have a nightmare about someone trying to kill me. It got so bad that I was terrified to go to sleep and my parents sent me to a psychiatrist ... he didn't help.

    When I was in college I took some classes and had to analyze my dreams. Once I started doing that, my nightmares decreased. I still have more than the average person, but they've gone down.

    The funny thing is, I never used to watch scary things at all. Never. Still, nightmares without fail. I have no idea why I had them.

    I actually miss them now that I don't have them as much because at least they were interesting. I even learned how to wake myself up from dreams because I had so many. The nightmares taught me a lot about myself, opened me up to new things and inspired my writing (the first chapter of my last book is one of my dreams just with my characters in it instead of me).

  2. The dreams of someone else dying (like a family member) are the worse though. Waking up, I would always go into my sister or mom and dad's room to be sure they were all right.

  3. That is a nightmare! Something happening to my kids would be my greatest fear, so I can sympathize. I do love Fringe though. :D

  4. Quinn, man that sucks! But on the bright side, I once read an author web site all about how she learned how to take control of her nightmares and follow different plot paths--helped her write several compelling books. I've always believed authors are a little bit crazy for a reason. Maybe this goes with that.

    Lisa, it was horrible! The worst thing is that I had just read stories about babies being killed or abandoned during fire fights between two main drug cartels in Mexico. I live in so-Cal in an area slightly less affected by drugs, but square puzzle pieces abound. I guess mothers will worry no matter where they're raising their children. My heart goes out to the parents who are living the nightmare in more dangerous areas. (I loved Fringe, too, so I sometimes still sneak a peek, but have to look away if it gets too nightmarish, like the spiky werewolf guy or the no-orifice skin-covered guy from the early days.)

  5. I can't watch horror movies anymore. I used to love them, but once I had kids, that was it. It was like someone had flicked a switch.

    I used to have a recurring nightmare. I talked about it with my parents, but I still had it. Then one day I realized that I hadn't had it in years. Weird.

  6. Oh some things scare the pants off me (like Nightmare on Elm street. Can't watch that at all), but I don't mind some horror films. I also like writing creepy stuff. I'm weird like that. lol.


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