This was a complex dream about doing a book review of a Latin American novel. It was by Carpentier or by Ariel Dorfman, and was about 100 pages. In the dream I only had access to a small portion of it. But I was also a character in the novel, in a sense. We (a woman and I) were on the police and we had a prisoner that we were keeping hidden from the rest of the police force, to protect him. Another, burly officer interfered. We arrested him, but he got away and threatened me. He was much larger than I was, and the rest of the police were not helping us.
The dream went on for what seemed to be several hours. Some of it was the action in the dream-novel, and some the action of attempting to read the book.
Of course, the names Dorfman and Carpentier are real, but have nothing to do with the plot of this particular dream. They just came up as I was desperately trying to fix in my memory everything about the novel so that I could write the book review when I woke up.