Here I am, trying to decide which novel (and I’m not letting on what my choices are) and I wake up in the middle of the night with a sentence in my head. I think, okay, that’s a sentence, and I try to let it go. But the sentence knows where it’s going. 

I get through several plot twists, character revisions, and perfect sentences which I am lying there in bed repeating over and over to myself so I won’t forget the exact word order. Until I realize I have basically a complete story. I wish I could now go to sleep and it would be there in the morning, but I know from experience it won’t. So I get my glasses, get out of bed and tiptoe upstairs, and, kept company by my chillblains, write it all down.

Did I mention the unicorn? Because that’s what the whole durn story is about. 

It’s 5:30 am, and out the windows the sky to the north is a burning dull pink. Truly ominous. And I think, that’s why the unicorn has come for me. The zombie wars have already begun.