Writers often keep a pen and pad on their nightstand in case inspiration strikes in the haze of near sleep. Poet Luci Shaw, visiting my college years ago, explained that she can never remember it the next morning, and to prevent that thought from being lost, she keeps writing materials by her bed. Some even keep illuminated pens and tablets, thereby saving their sleep by not having to turn on the light.
Inspiration can even jolt some writers out of a deep sleep, I’ve heard.
Twice in last few weeks, I’ve been jolted out of a deep sleep, but not by anything so pleasant as inspiration. I sit upright in bed suddenly, and there’s not a sound in the house, but within moments, I hear L crying. I rush to her bedroom and find her out of her crib, on the floor, stunned to be there, still half asleep herself. What woke me, K, and even L was the thump of her falling to the floor.
“It’s time we buy the foot board to turn the crib into a day bed,” we both say the morning after.
That night, though, it’s all about calming a confused, half-asleep girl, there is only one question: how in the world did she fall out of bed?
The next morning, she shows us. Pointing to the top of the crib, she explains, “I boom!” (She pronounces “I” as the Polish i, which means “and” and is pronounced like our letter “e”. So in fact, she was not saying “I boom” but “and boom.”)
Afterward, she points to the floor, adding another “i boom” for good measure. She willingly shows us as well.
