Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and the house is oddly quiet. In those rare moments, a calm settles over me. My mind rests and I'm relaxed, at peace. At least for a few minutes. Then, my mind disquiets and goes back to yammering at me like an overcaffeinated child. I've experienced this sensation a few times since I was a kid. Today, it happened at 3am. Ah!
It's a strange sensation. I have always been a weird sleeper. I wake up every few hours. Sometimes I go right back to sleep. More often than not, I don't. It's not great for getting rest, but I'm used to it. As a kid, I would wake in the wee hours and just lay there in the dark. For the most part, I enjoyed the quiet, but there were those moments when I woke and was convinced there were monsters standing at the edge of the bed behind me, just waiting for me to turn over so they could strike. I would lay there, pretending to sleep so they wouldn't attack. Not sure why my child's brain thought such logic plausible, but it is what it is.
Maybe these moments were the impetus of my desire to create, to tell stories. Oddly enough, I recently wrote a comic script that utilized the monsters standing by the bed motif. It was a spec script. Hopefully, the publisher will accept it. Fingers crossed.
Thanks for letting me wax poetic for a moment.
Bobby
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