Somebody once told me if you dream in a foreign language then you must be getting pretty good at it. Once, a long time ago, I dreamt in Spanish.

Last night I dreamt I was writing–that I went into a furious session and made leaps and bounds in word count.

I woke up around 6AM, which is early for me. And I hammered out my word count. It’s nice for a dream upon waking to become reality.

But oh man. Now I’m dreaming about writing? Sheesh! I will be relieved when this month is over. Only a couple days away now. I’m at 45,000 words. Just five thousand shy of the contest pass/fail condition. Two days left.

The inner critic is starting to snarl and foam a the mouth. There are so many things wrong with my story that I’d love to dive in and correct. This is where I need the most restraint. It will be easier once the contest is over. I can distract myself with books, games, and Xmas through December. But it’s this final dash towards the finish that has The Editor in me lashing out.

“This book sucks!” he screams.

But I’ll have to wait a few weeks to read it and find out where I really stand.