I can barely poke my toes to the edge of the covers without being attacked in the night by the little red monster. I grumble at his first swipe, which lands on my foot but does not break the barrier of blanket, and so does he. When, mostly asleep, I stretch the toes toward the edge and wiggle, the monster can no longer hold his excitement, and drives his pointy claws and teeth deeper into my flesh.

With a muffled and exaggerated "nooo" I kick a little, but my efforts to shoo away razors and daggars comes to no avail. If anything, the monster deepens his chase, diving into the covers for a bite of pink foot flesh.

"That's it!" I cry out, sitting straight up but barely awake. I reach down to my feet and grab a fistful of fur, dragging the little red monster up into my arms. "Come here," I say, tucking a ball of fur and flesh under the covers with me. "It's time for sleeping still." A muffled cry is followed by a low meow, and I stroke behind the ears of my kitten-in-a-cat's-body.

With a grumble, then a soft purr, Cheddar gives in, and snuggles up for nap. After all, monsters need rest too.

I'm starting a self-study creative writing course today to help me refresh my writing skills while I have a little time over winter break. I am using a course found here at Open Learn, Open University UK. Feel free to follow along and to comment below if you have discussion points.

Today I'm working on sections 1 and 2, and here are the results of my activities:

Activity 1: Write what you know

Writing what you know means pulling snippets of your daily life and using those words in your writing. it means taking details from around you and making them create a realistic environment for your reader.

Activity 2: Listening activity

Activity 3: Building a believable world

From memory-

Two tall dressers with a chocolate-brown papered-on finish stand on either side of a honey-toned half dresser, topped with a clunky square TV. The California-king has a regal wrought-iron headboard that always pokes me in the back of the head while i'm trying to read, and the mattress is somehow always topped with my least-favorite comforter in the house. Twin nightstands are at the head of the bed, mine topped with library-borrowed craft books and often crafts themselves; Mark's with his alarm clock and the remains of yesterday's pocket contents that did not get transferred to today's pocket.

From observation-

The flat-paint finish of cheaply-maintained apartment walls is beginning to look more scuffed than clean around the edges, and the standard beige short-pile Berber carpet has a distinct walking path, plus a few spots from craft accidents, cats, or messes otherwise. Matrix promo cards, cat toys, and laundry litter the edges of the floor, and on the day before New Year's Eve, the calendar is still pinned up as November. If I change it right now, at least December will see one full day.