I've been unable to blog for the past two days, mostly because I've been unable to sleep. Sleep and me have never been good friends, even less so now that I have a symphonic snorer beside me each night. I toss, I turn; I kick, I poke; and if I'm lucky somewhere in there I manage to catch a few hours.
Some people say they never dream, or at the very least they can never remember their dreams when they awaken. I have a very active dream-life, and for the past few weeks I've been plagued by writing query letters; getting both good and bad agent responses; etc etc. It was the same when I worked in the corporate world -- my job always invaded my sleep. The worst was when I worked as an editor and I'd dream all night of endlessly tracking the same sentence to make it fit on one line.
But to dream, you first need to get to sleep. For me, this is where the true pain lies. I have tried everything: warm bath; hot milk (yuck); writing down my racing thoughts on a notepad by the bed; visualisation; lavender pillow spray; staying up later -- all to no avail. Sometimes my frenetic thoughts are rewarding: Last week, I came up with a new idea for my next novel. I even thought of a great title! But mostly, they are the annoying things that flood your brain as soon as your tired head hits the pillow. I can't think of any of them right now, but I'm sure that once I try to sleep I'll be able to provide a million examples!
And so I drag my tired brain to my desk each morning at 8 a.m., sucking back my coffee as I begin revisions on my next novel. And pray for a better night's sleep. Maybe tonight...
that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast.
-- Shakespeare's Macbeth