Dreams

I don't dream that often, or at least I don't remember them most of the time. When I do, they are likely to be a bit bizarre, and usually in full color... one of those "real" dreams, that leave you in an awake state wondering if it really happened.

The other morning I found myself still a bit sleepy, so I went back to bed for a little nap. One of those bizarre dreams began playing itself out in my mind, full-color, scents and touch and even the feel of the night time breeze. There was a character in the dream that, while he was only there for a few minutes, he stayed with me after I woke, even as the rest of the dream faded into memory.

By yesterday morning, I wanted to write a story, bringing him into it. I don't have a clue where the story will go, or what the reason is for him to be there, but it seemed urgent that I at least begin this. So I did.

Over the years, I have written quite a few short stories that came to me first in a dream. It seems to work well for me, and for that I am grateful. When I write, they seem to develop of their own accord, much like a dream does. I have to admit, I love being along for the ride in these things... It's like sitting back and watching a performance from my Theater of the Mind, to borrow a term a friend uses for hers. I am like my characters - I don't know what will happen next, and this means I can suggest choices for them from the same viewpoint they have. Sometimes they disagree, and if I have to fight to get them to do what I want, I know I am heading in the wrong direction. Just let them do their own thing, and the story unfolds in vivid reality, with me as the historian of events.

Of course, then I have all these other distractions, like blogging about writing when I really should be writing the story...

But procrastination is one of the things a writer excels at, right?