Last night I dreamt I entered a room from the dark, and it was so bright I couldn't crack my eyes open against the light. The room was familiar but neglected for a long time. I smelled dust...and some similar odor I recognized but couldn't yet identify. I needed to stay there for hours--to rest, I think--but I suspected rattlesnakes lurked. They were what I smelled with the dust. I strained my ears, knowing exactly the sound I was listening for, but I couldn't heard them. I tried again to open my eyes, but they wouldn't adjust to the glare, and it was too painful. My dog (a German Shepherd mix that died over a year ago) was with me. I didn't want her bitten, so I squatted and kept her pressed against my side. She was warm and soft against me.
My dreams are vivid, and it's easy to understand why. I see colors (if I can open my eyes), feel textures, hear familiar sound, and smell the slightest aroma. That's a good lesson to remember when I write. If I want my fiction to be as vivid as my dreams, incorporate the senses.
Now if I could only get my dreams to finish plotting novels for me--in a way that still makes sense when I'm awake--I'd have it made.