I planned to write this first thing Monday morning—expecting that would mean about 8 a.m. Instead I sketched it about 2:30 a.m.
It made sense to jot some notes then, because I'd just been dreaming about writing.
Actually I dreamed about editing, but it morphed into aspects I could teach to writers.
No, I didn't eat anything strange before bedtime (unless you consider pilot crackers strange). But I had spent an hour that evening reading a recently published general market novel—one I had edited for the author six months earlier.
I struggled to stay inside the story. Instead I kept looking at details of the craft and hunting for changes the New York house had made to my work.
In my dream an editor called me to task for something I'd overlooked. In this paragraph I allowed the same word to be used three times, when the author could have made the point more effectively with synonyms.
Guilty. In my list of problems to address while editing, that one doesn't rank at the top. And in the novel's first paragraph, the final editor had corrected one instance I failed to catch.
So I'm adding that to my list of points to teach others and to apply myself. It won't happen again—in my dreams.