Another bizarre writing-related dream last night...

I was graduating from an MFA program with a lot of my Antioch friends. The group of graduates was brought into a grand library/bedroom in a mansion, or maybe even a castle, for a private audience with John Updike. All twenty or so of us squeezed onto a huge bed together, while Updike regaled us with stories of his writing life (I wish I remember what he said!). After he was done, he walked to the door, turned off the lights, and then he knelt beside the bed, and hugged me for a long time (I was right on the edge of the bed.) It didn't feel like a creepy, trying-to-hit-on-me hug; it felt like a "let me impart something to you" hug. When he turned the light on again, he was dressed like a clown, in a silky blue and white clown suit. And he did a whole comedy number about not being able to get out the door. He ended up shrinking down to about one foot tall and squeezing through the barely-open crack. Then the door swung open, and he was his full height again. A whole orchestra dressed in circus clothes was behind him, playing marching music for the graduates.

As we filed down the hallway, Updike came up to me and pointed out two paper grocery bags that were pushed to the edge of the wall. They were full of things he had weeded out from his home and was going to sell at a yard sale. "I'm giving you first dibs", he said, and I could see in the bags some tiny red and black cowboy boots and a collection of miniature books. I don't know what I did to gain Updike's favor like this--I'm usually not so lucky in my dreams--but it was pretty cool.

I haven't read any Updike for awhile--maybe this is a sign to pick up one of his books...