I had a nightmare the other day. The kind that makes you want to keep a weapon by your bed for the foreseeable future--just in case.
Let's just say it involved the basement, footsteps, and the inability to escape. I woke up in a cold sweat, realized it was just a bad dream...and started taking mental notes.
Mental notes? Yep. The writer in me was wondering if this dream something I could use in a book. If not the whole scenario, bits and pieces of it. The prickling of the skin, the way the heart speeds up, the fear.
I have to believe only a writer would do that. And I definitely think it was a coping mechanism at that moment, a way to convince my mind the threat wasn't real.