How much do you think about dreams? Do you dream? If so, do you remember your dreams? I don’t dream. Or at least, if I do, I very seldom remember them. One of my very close friends dreams every night and almost always remembers the dreams, an occurrence that mystifies me.
On the other hand, I perfectly understand daydreaming. For most of my life, I have been a masterful woolgatherer. I can spend hours lost in stories in my head, either real or fanciful. I seldom write them down…that monotonous task slaps a face of reality on my mental magic. Unfortunately for me, school drastically shortens the time available for daydreaming. Particularly the unguilty kind that results in creativity. One exception to this exists in an uninteresting and unnecessary class I have once a week. Very early in the semester I learned that my attention was not needed and I gave myself away to doodling and writing out phrases of songs and poems. That soon led to daydreaming and voila! I was writing stories.
I kept it simple. I know from experience that I soon tire if I try to write a novel. So I let my college-weary brain wander into fairytale fantasies and just wrote whatever storyline came to me. And it was bliss. I often dreaded the end of class, when I would have to leave my little fantasy. One hour of bliss a week, however, was far better than none. My classmates thought I was crazy. “What are you doing?” “Are you writing a story again?” “What’s your major? Creative writing?” People, you do not have to be a writing major to write stories! You have them inside you, everyone does! All you have to do is put that simple, silly, sad story into words! It doesn’t matter if it’s horrible from a professional standpoint. The important thing is freeing those ideas and words. You’ll find yourself feeling a lot more creative. 🙂
Today has been somewhat stressful for me. Getting back into the routine is nice, but I’m exhausted and rather sore/achy. So I sat down in class this afternoon and let the words flow…..all that glitters is not gold, masque of the red death, half a league, half a league, half a league onward, all in the valley of death…..dreamweaver, but in dreams…and then, I walk in dreams. Only a short paragraph, the sketching of an idea. Soon the girl next to me noticed and went through the usual litany of questions. Yes, I’m writing another story. No, I’m not a writing major. Sigh. Then she said something unusual. “I like the first line. If I were a reader, I would want to read the rest.” I smiled and thanked her, but I really don’t think she knew how much that meant to me. While I write primarily for myself, the desire to interest a reader is always present. When the paragraph was finished, I shyly asked if she wanted to read it and she enthusiastically did so. She complimented my story when she finished and told me I needed to be in a writing major. I realize she was primarily being polite and the likelihood of me switching majors is very low, but that simple interest made my heart smile.
Never underestimate the power of writing a simple story. The short time lost in imagination will do wonders for you, trust me. And who knows, someone else might like it too. 🙂