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Yesterday, my stepdaughter told me that she had a dream about me. This began, as it always does, with, "I had this weird dream last night." At which point I brace myself, because her next phrase is usually "So and so died." She often kills off various family members in her dreams, or has a variety of bad things happen to them because "They wouldn't listen to her." or "Nobody believed her." Fairly standard stuff for a teenager with the usual world control issues. But no, this one was about me, and for a change, nice, so I'm entering it here so I can remember it.
I wrote a book. Without telling anyone. It was a best seller in Europe, so I made scads of money, but no one here knew anything about it, including her and her dad. (Apparently for the purposes of this dream her father had stopped reading the "recently published" updates and failed to notice any mail from publishers arriving at the house.) But I made so much money that I was able to move us to NYC and London at the same time to live in nice houses, which is the first that anyone knew about my success. The only other detail she related to me was that the dog liked New York, but not London.
If you'll excuse me, I have some writing to do...
I wrote a book. Without telling anyone. It was a best seller in Europe, so I made scads of money, but no one here knew anything about it, including her and her dad. (Apparently for the purposes of this dream her father had stopped reading the "recently published" updates and failed to notice any mail from publishers arriving at the house.) But I made so much money that I was able to move us to NYC and London at the same time to live in nice houses, which is the first that anyone knew about my success. The only other detail she related to me was that the dog liked New York, but not London.
If you'll excuse me, I have some writing to do...
