To Write From the World of Dreams

“Dreams are a succession of images, sounds or emotions that pass through the mind during sleep. The content and purpose of dreams are not fully understood, though they have been a topic of speculation and interest throughout recorded history”~Wikipedia

The idea of writing from your dreams is not a new one. In fact there are several books on the topic, prescribed through many creative writing courses all over the world in modern curriculum. With that being said, I'd like to take this Monday's blog post to discuss just that.

The Imagination Unbound

One of the lovely things about dreams and the lucid state, is that in parts, things flow together. They cause one to almost feel as though there is nothing more natural than a potted petunia floating through the dangerous purple sky. It doesn't matter that it simply doesn't make sense, but allows the mind to meander in and out of the lovely absurdism that is created when our minds relax. The simplistic Dali-esque version of our brains actually speaks volumes as to who we are as a person. No. Stop right there. I'm not telling you that Freud was right and that you have an inherent crush on your mother/father and there's nothing you can do about it. I'm more getting at the fact that, the things you dream about are relevant to your life. These images can often be helpful reminders to the things that populate the waking world as well as our dreams.

Let your imagination that populates your dreams, flood into your writing, whether it be a journal (dream journal, for example) or your works of fiction. Especially your works of fiction. Imagination is your greatest tool. Use it!

Dream a Little...Awful Dream

Like dreams, sometimes there are bad stories. Bad dreams leave us rocked with an uneasy, fearful, and sometimes dumbfounded. These however can be launching points for some great stories. Why not take that moment in your dream where everything went wrong and use it as a pivotal moment in your next short? Or take the moment where things came to a sudden head and then you were left sitting on the side of the street, eating ice cream as a moment of peace within your storyline?

All of the oddities and awful things that happen in dreams can be used. Bad stories, give us things we can use, even if we have to trash the world around it. Why not use our awful, very bad, no-good dreams in a similar fashion?

Tell Your Inner Critic to 'Put a Sock In It'

Another of the great aspects about dreams and the dreaming, is that very rarely can you stop the dream. You can't just grab the reins and suddenly you're in control. Sometimes you can, but not often.

The lesson here is that sometimes, you just need to get that voice of doubt and your inner critic out of the way. These are the voices that keep you from achieving the impossible within the confines of your story. Take the story and just write. In the spirit of many writing competitions, like NaNoWriMo; just write. Ignore that inner voice. Seriously. What does that guy know anyway? You want a wombat themed race of semi-sentient individuals to overthrow the piranha pirates of Bangladesh? Do it. Flying naked mole rats. Why not? A lazy ferret to motivate your main? Ok well for some of us, that's a little closer to truth than fiction.

So write. Write all you can. Use your dreams and your imagination to guide you. Step back from the rules set forth by grammar and good taste, and begin! Those rules will be there when you're done. You can always go back through after and begin the refining process (psst it's called editing for a reason). Don't take all of your wackiness out of it. Be your crazy, dream possessed self and write what ever comes your way.

~Writing Task for the Week~
Are you an avid dreamer? Do you only dream once in a blue moon? Either way, keep a notepad next to your bed, and anything you find intriguing about your dreams, jot it down as soon as you wake up. Story seeds come from interesting places, and your dreams will often be the source for more than a few, whether you realize it or not.

Cheers,
Jessi

Sensuality in Writing and Some Other Notes

A quick overview of the lecture on monday, 8/8.

Writing exercise:

Write one example of each that fits

Lead character:
Drive:
Physically Defining Feature:
Personality Quirk:
Combo of 3 and 4; first thought that pops into your head:

Write a few sentences with attention to detail and a sensual (not necessarily sexual) experience for your reader in mind.

Enjoy!
Jessi

Rhythm of the night

There’s a certain rhythm to sleepless nights. I walk back and forth through the house, not really thinking about anything. Listening to the pipes and the hidden under-workings of the house. Listening to my dog snore. Half listening to whatever background noise I have on the television. I pace. I stop and look around. I brush my teeth. I think about Inkwell. I sit down and start to write up plans I have for the group. Then my fingers itch. I get up and pace.

Even though that’s not always my nights, this has become a more frequent occurrence. The pacing. That’s probably what drives me the craziest. I hate doing it. It reminds me of someone I’m none too fond of. Not only that but I feel like I’m wearing away the shine on the floors faster than necessary. I pull my hair out of the ponytail and mess it up, tossing my head about, like I can shake the cobwebs loose. Flip my head up and look around. Nope. They’re all still firmly attached to the insides of my head. I sigh. Not because I want to but simply because there seems to be nothing else to do. I take off my nail polish and reapply. Why? I couldn’t tell you. Even if it was perfect I’d feel the need.

I turn on YouTube and play some music that I find my muse hiding in. I write here and there, nothing really adding up to terribly much other than practice. I want to kiss my muse for entertaining me for yet another night. It however has already found my presence tiresome and has left again. So I sit; starring at an empty word document, the cursor flashing tauntingly at me. ‘C’mon… write something’ it seems to whisper. I grow tired of its taunts and get up. Back to pacing. I stop short this time realizing the idiocy of my movements. I’m irritated with myself in a way that I find disappointing. The thought that if I can’t make myself happy, I’ll never be able to make anyone else happy; floats through my mind before I slap it away. I try my best to make people happy as often as I can…is it enough? I shake my head again, this time more gently and if anything this sad, slow swinging seems to do more to loosen the webs than the violence of before. I let a small smile pass over my lips and sit down on the couch with Nilla. He’s warm, soft, and comforting. I lean down and hug him. The mostly husky dog, lifts his head to see what’s going on and puts it back down again with a discontented sigh. I woke him up. I smile, wider this time, and get up. I walk to wherever my computer is and pick it up, unplugging it from the wall. I gather the cords, my phone, and any other little trinkets before heading upstairs to my room. To sleep, to dream… Maybe I will do that tonight.