I used to tell myself if I had a book idea in the middle of the night, it was no use getting up to write it down—if it was a good one, I’d remember. As I’ve gotten older though, I’ve started to wonder if that’s really true. So recently when I had a dream about an idea for a silly picture book, I got up and took notes. In the morning, I excitedly looked to see what I’d written, but there was no notebook next to the bed, as I remembered. No pen.

“Peter!” I said to my husband. “Do you remember where I wrote my notes last night?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Don’t you remember when I woke up and told you I had a silly idea for a picture book?”

“Uh, no. You must have dreamt it.”

“But it was so real!” I was clearly…