This morning, though, my dreaming mind presented me with a thriller in which Canada attempted to destroy American rye production by introducing a black fungus that would wipe out the crop. They had ordered the assassination of a Congressional committee member who was blocking the importation of Canadian rye – and with his death, the clock began to tick.

“No,” I said to myself when I woke up from the dream. “No one wants to read a thriller about Canadian agriculture.”

The dream persisted. An hour later, I woke up again. “Seriously,” I said. “No. There’s just nothing sexy about a black rye fungus.”

It tried a third time, too, with a vivid depiction of the cover of a scholarly journal warning of The Misuse of Black Rye Mold in International Agriculture.

I wonder if I can get Michael Bay to direct?

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