I’ve finished the copy edit of The K-Pro, and tomorrow I will make the changes to the electronic file and be done with it. It’s one of those things where if I keep tinkering with it I’ll simply never be done. So at some point—and that point is now—I have to stop. The perfectionist in me would continue on indefinitely, but now it’s time to let go.
If you’re interested in a preview, though, there’s an excerpt up at AoA.
And while I try not to post too many boring personal things here, I have in the past posted a bit about my dreams and the characters who populate them. And, well . . . Last night’s dream was like none other I’ve ever had. Which is saying something because I dream vividly and regularly. But this one just felt different. I’m not sure if that makes sense, but I’ve always been able to separate “regular” dreams from ones that might be important. And this one . . . It meant something, but not in the usual way. So I’m not sure what to think. I usually post these dreams on my personal blog, but I’ve cross posted what I wrote about last night’s here, if only for fun. Though if someone has some insight, do please send me an e-mail.
The first thing I remember (and I think there was more before this, but that’s unclear now), I was sitting on a wooden bleacher, outside, at night. I was on the top tier. On my right was Benedict Cumberbatch and on my left Rex Harrison. Benedict was wearing black and white; Rex was wrapped in a charcoal-colored wool blanket. There was something going on, but I don’t know what: a bonfire, a sports match, or some other kind of gathering. I spoke briefly to Benedict, though I don’t remember what was said, but it seemed we were friendly at least (unlike in other dreams he’s been in). I leaned against his arm for a moment as if to rest, like I was tired, but then Rex and I started cutting up about something else, and I may have ended up tucked in the blanket with him.
Okay, but then came morning and there was something sad going on—a friend of mine from college named Anne Johnson had died. I vaguely recall a big oak tree, but I don’t know what the significance of it was in the dream. Had she hit the tree with her car? Were we gathering there just to remember her? I think a photo of Anne was on the tree . . .
Then there was something about going to visit my dad. The house looked like the one we’d lived in when I was in middle school and high school, but there was a river behind it, and apparently there had been some rain because everything was wet and the water was high and moving fast. Also, the water was brown. Not dark brown but sort of café au lait colored. Anyway, my dad was planning some kind of trick or jump; it’s difficult to explain, but he was going to jump from a kind of platform onto this origami-like thing, sort of like a snowboard? I’m not sure what the point was or why he was planning to do it.
But then the dream became about going to this amusement park with a bunch of people from high school. We weren’t still in high school; it was more like a reunion trip maybe? And the park was on or near the estate of some movie star (the name Scarlett Johansson comes to mind but I don’t know if she was the one). I remember a lot of us joking that her parents had built the park to get her friends because she never had any.
Okay, but first off there was something about The Eagles and Don Henley being missing. (And I think, too, this was somehow related to the jumping thing my dad had done, but I’m not sure how—like maybe Henley had done the same trick?) Because The Eagles were playing a show at the park, I think? And it turned out that I’d gone on this trip with Benedict, but we’d gone to do different things once we got inside the park . . . And then someone gave me a cherry sno-cone. And I realized at some point I needed to go to an ATM, and then I realized my debit card was in the car (in the trunk, or “boot,” specifically) and Benedict had the keys. So I was thinking I needed to go find him, but as it turned out a group of four guys walked by and one of them reached out and briefly squeezed my hand, and it was Benedict, but he was done up like the old movie stereotype of Frankenstein’s Monster: green face paint, fake bolts on his neck, slicked hair. The guys with him were dressed as other old movie monsters, too, and it turns out they were on their way to some interactive, live-action game. But Benedict gave me the car keys at least. It was a cute little blue and white Mini Cooper. And I remember thinking I had no idea where in the lot the car was, but that I would find it. I specifically recall thinking: I can’t have Benedict do everything for me, some of this I just have to be grown up about and do for myself. Otherwise he’d get sick of me pretty quick.
So I guess I did find the car and do what I needed to do, though that bit isn’t clear. The last bit of the dream featured Rob Thomas and Matchbox Twenty, who were evidently also doing a show at this theme park. And my friend Karl asking to please help find his cousin (whose name started with an A or a K . . . Alyssa? Krysta? Something like that). Apparently with all the press about Don Henley being missing, no one was paying attention to this girl who had also disappeared. And Benedict had also made me promise to come find him when I’d done with the car and the ATM and whatever. But I think first I went to Rob and the band and asked them to spread word about the missing girl . . . And then I woke up.
Certainly, all the missing people add up to something. But what?
Well then. Tomorrow I will officially finish The K-Pro and then take a small break prior to the SFWC this coming weekend before turning to tackle the screenplay version of 20 August. It’s good to have projects. Keeps me off the streets.