That said, I have to admit I found Tanya Huff's werewolves who act like wolves somehow unsatisfactory. Possibly because werewolves to me *aren't* wolves entirely: they're humans who turn into wolves, who therefore are symbols of innate human violence. The same way that vampires act as symbols of seductive sexuality /power, rather more elegant traits that IMO contribute to vampires' alpha status in the horror hierarchy. I mean, I'm all for non-violent werewolves if you can do them; not fond of E Bear but her wolves were the best part of whatever that book was called. But no one has quite pinged my werewolf sweet spot yet.
Then there's an entry on dreams, recurring. I'd forgotten that I too occasionally have the 'more rooms in the house than you thought' one. I like that one-- the rooms that open off the ordinary ones are always lovely.
1. Going back to Bedford. That's the family house we sold over twenty years ago. It's eased off in the last few years, but I'd regularly have dreams of either sneaking back into the house through an open window, or more often, that the sale had been postponed and we were still living there, or the Chuas had rented to us, or whatever. We were still at Bedford but knowing eventually we'd have to move, and always in the dream the idea of living anywhere else seemed literally inconceivable: I couldn't think what life would be like without that house.
2. The bathroom frustration dream, which economically combines two classics. I need to pee and there are toilets but they're unusable. This usually happens in a dream Japan, where the toilets prove to be comfy chairs with no pan, or out of order, or occupied. There's one usable toilet but I can't get to it. The subconscious conviction, even awake, that bathrooms in Japan are actually like that is so strong that I've tried to remember if I ever encountered a bunch of unusable toilets. I'm sure I didn't; 'all squat toilets, no western' doesn't count.
3. The guilt anxiety dream. I've killed someone and have to hide the body. I'm eaten with anxiety that the body will be found and people will Find Out. The actual killing doesn't bother me in the dream. There's no guilt attached, and I rarely even know who the victim is. But suddenly what seemed a quite trivial act has these terrible consequences, and it's inevitable that people will Find Out. The dream usually consists of repeated attempts to hide an increasingly decomposing body.
4. A variant of taking the exam anxiety: I have the leading part in a play, usually thrust into it at last moment, but no one has given me the lines. I'm onstage and trying to fake it.
5. Much more happily, the dear old friend, known since forever, who's no one I know awake. Actually that one's almost desolating, in its glimpse of a sunny golden super-reality behind the reality, that doesn't in fact exist.
ETA: I suppose the daycare dream doesn't count, since it's anyone else's office dream. But time was that whatever I was dreaming about, there'd be babies in it somewhere-- like the caped Mandrake the Magician figure who did his magic tricks while holding a baby on the palm of his free hand. The 'daycare in another house' dream is a frequent one, as is 'the family gathering (never my own family) in the big house with lots of toddlers underfoot'.
liralen reminds me of dream Toronto ones-- set on 'that street near Madison, you know the one' which is all flowering trees and second floor sun porches, or 'that street north of Davenport' in an area that actually rises towards the train tracks but in my dreams has huge Rosedale mansions on its hills. And of course there's dream Tokyo, which is never the real Tokyo but was once almost certainly Malaysia.