Steve Malley has another great blog post on writing. Well worth checking out. As for me, I'm putting the finishing touches on my dream presentation for tomorrow, but between that and turning in mid-terms this last week I haven't had much time for my own writing.
Here's another of my weird dreams:
I'm planning to kill someone and creep up to their house to look through their windows. My vision wavers and is discolored, like looking through a flame and seeing objects on the other side. I seem to be hallucinating. I find an open window and slip inside.
My point-of-view shifts and I find myself in bed upstairs in my house. A sound has awakened me and I get up and go out to the landing. I see a man at the bottom of the stairs. He's holding a knife. With a shock of terror I realize that the man is me. But this me looks bestial; body hunched, hands curled, drool sliding from his lips.
My viewpoint switches again, and now I'm looking up the stairs. I see myself at the top of the stairs, without a knife, but again everything is distorted and wavering. I growl and rush up the steps toward my other self.
Viewpoint switch. I'm the me at the top of the stairs. I realize I can't escape. I leap down to meet myself. The bestial side of me slashes with the knife but I close with him, grabbing his wrist to stop the blade. We struggle, and I get a foot behind his leg, tripping him. He pulls me down on top of him and we go thrashing down the stairs. I switch personalities and viewpoints back and forth as we roll down and down, our limbs windmilling.
We hit the pine-wood floor at the bottom of the stairs with a whumpf that shakes the house. One me stands up, chest heaving, breathing wildly. The other lies still, legs and arms akimbo, the blade of the knife standing up from his chest. I look around the house. Although I don't see any visual distortions it occurs to me that I'm not sure which of us survived.
Somewhere in the house there is wild laughter.