Asleep, of course, I dream I’m on a stage. I know, in the way that you can only know things in a dream, that I’m part of the performance, playing the Duke of the Night. Trouble is, I remember nothing, neither lines nor blocking. Everyone swirls around me, exasperatedly tugging at my sleeves and whispering directions.
A voluptuous woman coos at me seductively. A serious fellow in bright colors sneers at me. A small woman, really small, like 3 feet tall, gives me a, “tsk, tsk.” One woman slinks around dressed as a cat. Finally, a lovely young maid sweeps me into a graceful waltz around the stage.
Awake, more or less, I write most of this down. I happen upon some applicable symbolism. And voila, I’m writing a rather lengthy short story…or maybe a diminutive novella. But the thing is, I’m writing again. I hadn’t really written anything worth spitting on in 4 or 5 years. I haven’t stopped yet, writing two sequels and then starting a full-size novel. And it’s fun! I’m writing! Thanks to a dream.
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What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
What Got Me Writing, This Time Around
Posted 11 months ago
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