I usually didn’t either, or perhaps remember only fragments. I had read on the internet about lucid dreaming and wanted to experience that, and it was said writing down your dreams / keeping a dream journal would be a good way to start. So when I started getting some of the ‘wait wtf did I just saw?’ dreams I ended up just writing them down.
Sort of great, because those were dreams I genuinely had a good time with. Funnily enough, even the ‘scary’ dreams didn’t feel like nightmares after waking up. Was more so the case of ‘whoa that was cool’ than waking up with cold sweat and being afraid.
I had a dream a few weeks ago, and when I woke up from it in the middle of the night I jotted down what I could remember on my phone.
The notes, verbatim:
Theme park with run so1n movie theatre log dlume ride
Stewwr I’d Philadelphia
Mushroom growing app over
Run me Hellboy
I like my fantasy with a little backdrop of romance, but not as the main driving feature and also no fae
I’m supposed to be getting into The Expanse first
Yes, though in this case it’s more catered towards an adult audience, primarily women, with a backdrop of internalised misogyny. No, Rhysand is not a healthy love interest. Stop fantasizing about fixing him. Go to therapy.
I’ll have to look into it. A friend recommended that I go through the first three Wheel of Time books on audio book, because it’s much easier to stomach the choppy paragraph dumps in the abridged version. Also it’s narrated by Moiraine’s actor from the TV show who was the highlight for me, so that’s neat.
space station people’s government sends an ambassador (the protagonist) off to the space byzantine empire sort of place to replace her apparently deceased predecessor, also the space station people get hardware in their minds that puts their predecessor’s memories and personality into their mind to get some sort of direct transfer of knowledge and skills
It mostly focuses on cultural aspects/differences and politics, the second book likewise, although it has a first contact with a new alien species scenario take place where they’re so vastly different they have an entirely different method of communication that our protagonists need to figure out and deal with.
I never had luck with deliberately inducing lucid dreams, and eventually I gave up when I realized I would have to realign my sleep schedule and it could be detrimental to my health. I sometimes get them randomly, though.
And you’re right, keeping a dream journal helped me stop being scared by occasional nightmares.
Can you take a picture of the page? The reason why I page 99 books is mostly to see if I like the prose once the plot has had a chance to stew for a bit. The prologue chapter doesn’t always translate to the rest of the book. Looking at you, In The Ravenous Dark.
the worst kind of RP - you don’t even get to interact as your own character without being accused of ‘defacing the book’ and ‘ruining the library experience for the other children’
Having looked up a synopsis of the series, it did strike me as eerily similar to Twilight, just featuring fae instead of vampires and a far more significant power fantasy for the protagonist. I’m not shocked that it’s drawn a similar crowd.
Even if you don’t feel like diving into an entire series, I’d still recommend Best Served Cold to anyone as a stand-alone experience.
To summarise, it follows the story of Monza Murccato, a famous mercenary in a fantastical version of Renaissance Italy who was betrayed by her employer. Her revenge requires the death of seven men who played a part in her downfall and to achieve this, she enlists the aid of her drunk and washed-up mentor, a do-gooding viking-analogue who is out of his depth, a serial killer driven by his obsession with mathematics and the world’s most pretentious and narcissistic poisoner, plus his apprentice.
And here's Page 99.‘Best move quicker than you did across that rope, then. You might still be climbing in when they open the place tomorrow.’ The Northman was still smiling as he slipped over the parapet and back across the cord, swift and sure for all his bulk.
‘If there is a God, he has cursed me through my acquaintance.’ Morveer gave only the briefest consideration to the notion of cutting the knot while the primitive was halfway across, then crept away down a narrow lead channel between low-pitched slopes of slate towards the centre of the building. The great glass roof glowed ahead of him, faint light glittering through thousands of distorting panes. Friendly squatted beside it, already unwinding a second length of cord from around his waist.
‘Ah, the modern age.’ Morveer knelt beside Day, pressing his hands gently to the expanse of glass. ‘What will they think of next?’
‘I feel blessed to live in such exciting times.’
‘So should we all, my dear.’ He carefully peered down into the bank’s interior. ‘So should we all.’ The hallway was barely lit, a single lamp burning at each end, bringing a precious gleam to the gilt frames of the huge paintings but leaving the doorways rich with shadow. ‘Banks,’ he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face, ‘always trying to economise.’
He pulled out his glazing tools and began to prise away the lead with pliers, lifting each piece of glass out carefully with blobs of putty. The brilliance of his dexterity was quite undimmed by age, and it took him mere moments to remove nine panes, to snip the lead latticework with pincers and peel it back to leave a diamond-shaped hole ample for his purposes.
‘Perfect timing,’ he murmured. The light from the guard’s lantern crept up the panelled walls of the hallway, brought a touch of dawn to the dark canvases. His footsteps echoed as he passed by underneath them, giving vent to a booming yawn, his long shadow stretching out over the marble tiles. Morveer applied the slightest blast of air to his blowpipe.
‘Gah!’ The guard clapped a hand to the top of his head and Morveer ducked away from the window. There were footsteps below, a scuffling, a gurgle, then the loud thump and clatter of a toppling body. On peering back through the aperture the guard was plainly visible, spreadeagled on his back, lit lamp on its side by one outstretched hand.
‘Excellent,’ breathed Day.
‘Naturally.’
‘However much we talk about science, it always seems like magic.’
‘We are, one might say, the wizards of the modern age. The rope, if you please, Master Friendly.’ The convict tossed one end of the silken cord over, the other still knotted around his waist. ‘You are sure you can take my weight?’
‘Yes.’ There was indeed a sense of terrible strength about the silent man that lent even Morveer a level of confidence. With the rope secured by a knot of his own devising, he lowered first one soft shoe and then the other into the diamond-shaped opening. He worked his hips through, then his shoulders, and he was inside the bank.
and also no fae
