When I'm in the middle of a near-final manuscript revision, I often have 'lost' dreams: either I am lost in a house or a city, or my purse or wallet is lost. I either can't find my way out (of a house or city) or I can't prove who I am (purse/wallet = have proof of identity).
In the houses, rooms lead to other rooms, hallways wrap around in a maze, I can't get back to where I started, and I don't know how to exit. This seems a pretty transparent dream of where my mind is in the revision process!
The lost wallet and purse dreams are somehow tied up with my identity as a writer vs. my 'other' lives as wife, mother, friend, sister, etc. Who am I? How am I going to 'prove' it?
I know, though, that I will eventually find my way through the manuscript and my various selves will not be lobbying for attention . . . and the 'lost' dreams will subside.
