I want to talk about the way a writer's mind works.

Whenever you read how Stephanie Meyer came up with Twilight - I've yet to read the books myself (still don't know if I even want to), but I know the story well - you read that it was based off of a dream she had. I read in an interview that J.K. Rowling was on the subway one day when she pictured a middle-school boy with black hair and glasses. So it's pretty clear that even the tiniest spark of imagination can set off something pretty amazing in a writer. 

I will admit that a couple of my own stories have been based off of weird dreams I've had, and that the characters in my mind are my best friends. I think it's pretty important that a writer take even the smallest things she thinks about into consideration. I wouldn't have as many projects as I currently do if I didn't!

And I also think it's important that she write about even the smallest of dreams that she has.

That's why I'm going to tell you about one of the last dreams I had. 

Though it's not really that small. 

((I was in a mall of some sort, though it didn't look like any mall I'd been to. I went into a bathroom, and to my surprise, I found a baby there. She was just lying on the changing table, crying. But I was the only one there (except for my cousin who didn't really have a big role here). So I decided to sit and wait, in case the mom of the baby came back. I waited for a long time (though in dream time it was only five minutes, but I swear hours went by), and when I realized the mom wasn't coming back, I grabbed the baby and the diaper bag that was also left behind. 

Instead of being a smart tart and taking the baby to the police, I decided to bring her home and try to locate the mom myself. 

Once I got home (which wasn't really my home, but the house I used to live in), I looked through the bag to find any information I could to locate the mom. It took a lot of the dream, me looking through the bag, and by the time I found what I needed, it was almost evening. 

My dad, grandpa, and cousin all drove me over to the house of one of my best friends. Coincidentally enough, the baby belonged to her sister (even though irl, she doesn't actually have a sister). But the sister took off, and all she left was a scrapbook for the baby, and, get this... the baby's twin brother. So my friend asked me if I could take the twin brother too, and find places for them. I packed the two babies up in the car, hugged my friend goodbye, and went back home. 

The next few parts of the dream were blurry, but it was insinuated that I called Child Protective Services and had them take care of the twins. But by the time the twins left, I had grown attached to them. I had even wanted to keep them. So for the very last parts of my dream, I found myself moping around. And then the boys of 5 Seconds of Summer came to comfort me (where the heck did they come from???!) and sang a 1D song to me. 

And then I woke up with the strangest feeling in the world.)) 

Now, that's definitely not something that would inspire me to write a story, it was just curious as to the way my mind works. It's weird that I often dream about babies when I don't want any of my own. 

But then again, maybe there are some pieces in this dream that will inspire me to pick up a pen. You never do know how the mind of a writer works!