This isn't something I learned today, because I've already tried to do it before, but I will reiterate here because it is so frustrating. Sometimes I have dreams that give me such intense emotions that I when I wake up I want to recreate those feelings for others. But when I look back on my dream, what seemed so cool and sane in my sleep is just a jumbled bunch of nonsense, I know that there is no way anybody can ever make sense out of it. That's when I get stuck in this place where I'm trying to take the themes of my dream and meld them into a story that the waking world can understand, while still trying to retain the essence of what I felt while I was asleep. It's a delicate process, and one I am nowhere near perfecting.
Pocatello was created to make sense of a dream I had one time. But the main characters and plot from the dream have, through the years, been put on the back burner, and other characters from this world have arisen through the daylight and taken center stage. Someday I will go back to that dream with the real cool spaceship and the three troubled teenagers, and work it into something believable.
Crazy, huh?
Just another day (or night) in the life of a writer.
Yesterday I learned that...
I can spend a whole day without getting on facebook and not feel any less of a person because of it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I do the same thing with my dreams, Jes. It's terribly frustrating, because I just know that if I could find the right words, this dream would make perfect sense to other people, and they would ooh and aah and love me for it, and they would want to to tell all their friends and write home to their mothers about it, and the world would sing in perfect harmony and and and.
ReplyDeleteSo far, most of my novels have started life as some weird dream I was trying to make written sense of. They have their uses, these dreams, they do. ;o)