I was in the middle of a dream. Something about throwing rocks into the air so sharks would imitate them and land on the beach. Clearly, this was the only way to keep myself safe from their attacks. Apparently the fact that I was on the shore and they were in the water wasn’t good enough. It made no sense. Dreams often don’t.

Slowly, I realized I was dreaming. More, I realized this dream was a picture book. Several days ago I had come up with an idea, but I didn’t know how to write it. Just a concept really.

Now here it was right in front of me. I had to wake up. I needed to escape the sleep fog; think it through before it faded away. I forced myself to physically sit up. Think. Think. And there it was. My story had nothing to do with sharks-at all. But the rocks, the beach. Everything was hiding underneath.

I’ve now spent two days putting it in some sort of order. It was a fable. Who knew? And I like this one. One more first draft written!

This is not the first time I’ve found inspiration in my dreams. I’ve dreamed character names, dialogue, rhymes, illustration images, and yes, sometimes full stories.

Does anyone else find inspiration in their dreams?