Like many people, I can’t read in dreams, but sometimes I really enjoy the things my brain comes up with to rationalize that. Like last night, when I stood in line for hours for the new Harry-Potter-analog book, finally got to the front and picked up my copy, and discovered that its cover text was in Cyrillic. “Of course,” I thought, “I think I remember hearing this one was in Russian.”

Then I glanced over and noticed a series of five John Bellairs books that I remembered enjoying in high school (including one called Whistle and Hum). I thought about finding them for a while after I woke up, until I realized they don’t exist.