I dreamed about a boat, adrift in the water, having been mostly burned but still floating. There was a bride aboard the boat. Totally alone, with no memory of what had happened.

This is what comes of sleeping next to a 6-week-old baby. And this is just a fraction of the novellas that spell themselves out in my head every night while I drift in and out of sleep. No wonder Stephenie Meyer wrote "Twilight" while raising little kids.