books and dreams

I'm actually getting somewhere with my book...sort of. I got stuck on a little part of fiction that's going to be in there, so I wrote a kind of introduction to the whole thing. Yay me? I mean, at least I have something down on paper...erm...the computer screen. I'll be the next Donald Miller, or at least something like him. He's right about writers, you know. I forget what he said exactly, but something about how we sleep late and put off writing until later. I think that was in Blue Like Jazz. But anyway...I'll just be happy if the thing gets published at all.

I've been having lots of strange dreams lately. They are strange not only because of content, but because I don't normally remember my dreams. Well, I don't remember these really well either, but the fact that I remember anything of them is still strange. I guess there are just people I miss, and since I can't talk to them, I'm dreaming about them. All I know is...I want pixie dust for Christmas.