I’m throwing things back this week to A Symphony of Cicadas, the first novel I ever published, the one that came to me in a dream from one single scene, then rushed through me as soon as I woke up. With this one, I dreamed I’d died and was seeing my then fiancé (now husband) from the other side of life. In my dream, I watched as he fell in love with another woman, and he was happy which made me genuinely happy, which is so strange because if I really die, I’m haunting every woman who looks at him. 👻 The cool part is that the book I’m writing now, Numbered, came to me in the same way, a book from a single dream scene that rushed through me as soon as I woke up. It’s how I know Numbered is meant to be, and why I’ll always have a soft spot for A Symphony of Cicadas, my very first book baby.
