I woke up with this dream stuck in my head that gave way to my first story in the 52 Story Pick Up. I don't know about you, but I have mixed feelings about writing from dreams. Most of the time you feel like you're working on a 100 piece puzzle with only about 10 pieces and this massive sense that the rest of the puzzle was really, really good. Other times I feel like writing from dreams is stealing from the part of my brain that hasn't yet rotted from too much chocolate or from never being able to get a bath uninterrupted since my daughter was born.
All of this is beside the point. My dream involved the following tidbits: four miniature giraffes, slapping floorboards with your hand, and magic. Oh, and a "bad" guy that favored the looks of the voodoo villain from Disney's The Princess and the Frog. Of course, when I wrote my story it was much more fabulous than these puzzle pieces and I never for a minute second-guessed the direction of my story. Yeah, right.
The crux of the matter is this: I wrote fiction again. I gave myself the much needed break from the bill paying freelance work and got to flex some of my more creative muscles again. I haven't titled the new story yet, which is odd because that's normally my first steps, but I'm not concerned. After about five rewrites this magic giraffe, floor slapping story might just be a good little read.
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