Know what the best tool in my Writer's Toolbox is?
I admit it. I LOVE to sleep.
I love that drowsy little moment when you're just on the brink...and then when you tumble over it into temporary oblivion.
I love the long stillness, the quieting of reality.
I love coming out of it s-l-o-w-l-y, stretching and yawning in my bed until my brain is ready to re-enter the world.
And the dreams! Boy howdy, I do love those dreams. And not only the *nudge-nudge, wink-wink* special ones. I love all kinds. They're just so gosh darned entertaining. My subconscious is a helluva (warped) storyteller. (Don't pretend you're surprised.)
But the real reason I love sleep is that I can't function without it. Seriously, when I don't get enough, I am Zombie-Linda. Foot-draggin', mouth-hangin'-open, blank-behind-the-eyes Linda.
Trust me, it ain't pretty.
A good eight hours is ideal. I can face anything after eight blissful hours in the recharge zone. Petty annoyances of the daily grind variety? Eh. They roll right off. Unexpected calamities? Handled with aplomb. Out and out emergencies? I'm your level-headed gal.
But deprive me of time spent with the other god in my life--Hypnos, the Greek God of Sleep--and I get downright dysfunctional. Not to mention testy.
[Oh, and not to worry--TG is totally cool about the time I spend with Hypnos. In fact, whenever possible, we make it a threesome. ;) ]
The worst thing about not getting enough sleep (for me) is that I can't think straight. My mind slows to the point where I swear it's moving backwards. For a writer, this is Not Cool. My books are supposed to be fast-paced. Funny. Full of wit. Without sleep, the wit won't come. I am full of The Dumb.
Some of my writer buddies can hold down a day job, spend quality time with their families, and still manage to steal enough time to finish whole novels. They credit coffee and/or diet cola. This totally baffles me. Does caffeine really glue their synapses together that well? Because I've tried, and all it does is make me wired and dumb.
The ones I really envy (to the point where my complexion turns a sickly shade of pale green) are those who blithely say, "Sleep? Why, four or five hours a night is more than enough for me."
Aargh. I don't give a flying fig if you have more money than I do. If your house is bigger, if your children are smarter. I couldn't care less if you're younger, prettier, and more athletic than I am.
But don't you dare show up looking well-rested after staying up all night being productive. Or I may have to hurt you.
Now, pardon me while I take a nap. I'm sure TG won't mind if I sneak in a quickie with Hypnos. I'll make it up to him later, when I'm well-rested enough to think of more exciting things to do in bed than sleep. ;)