Dream to Write

Everyone has dreams.  Some people love to tell them to their friends.  Only the crazy people use them to inspire a new story to tell the world.  Some dreams are fragmented, random, confusing, but often amusing when retold.  Some dreams follow a story line, actually having a plot of some sort.  And these are some of the most original stories out there.  I love these dreams, and I’ve had several that I’ve written down the plot on a document on my computer.  I like to call this form of inspiration ‘The Dreamway’.

My favorite dream that I’ve had I’ve already started a story about.  It took place somewhere down South (I chose Virginia), and a few years in the future (I had it set in 2015 or so, but now that that’s this year, I’ll probably move it ahead closer to 2020 whenever I start writing it again).  I lived in a run-down neighborhood where gangs roamed freely (I know, I know, I do love gangs, but they aren’t as important in this story), where there was no law except what the gangs or the incredibly rich decided.  You were either dirt poor, or filthy rich.  There was no in-between.  I was one of the common poor kids, with a female for a best friend (I was a boy.  Crazy things, these dreams).  One day, a professor moved into a huge, run-down mansion atop a large hill where literally everyone in the neighborhood could see it.  My friend and I (still in male form) decided to go investigate, and we met his three maids.  All of his maids were named Mary in my dream, and all were old.  I haven’t gotten this far in writing it down, but I’m fairly sure I want to keep the descriptions and same-name-thing in my book.  The head maid, Mary, was regular sized, who always wore a straw hat.  The second Mary was tall and thin, who rarely had any sort of emotion displayed on her face.  She also always wore purple wool clothing, despite the heat.  The last Mary was short and pudgy, with all her gray hair piled high on her head.  She was a busy-body who frowned often.  Anyway, my friend (Who I named Shazzy in the book) and I started reading the many books in his library.  They warned me to stop snooping, but we didn’t.  Soon, we discovered why they wanted us to stay away; the Professor was working on a science experiment to bring the dead back to life.

I’m going to stop there, because I don’t want to spoil anything for anyone who might potentially read the finished product in the future.  Just know that the dream came complete with a climax.  I just woke up before the denouement, so I had to make up one as I lay there.  I won’t be using the ending I thought up then.

Another dream I had was a little less fledged out.  The whole idea was little trolls underneath the ground in a flying school.  They were learning to fly little spaceship-type-things, but they didn’t really know why.  I woke up and decided that there would be one troll who found out that they were training for a huge war against man-kind.  But man-kind didn’t even know they existed!  They’d never drilled down far enough to reach their world, but the trolls knew they were there, and wanted to live on the Earth’s Crust instead of all the way down where they were.

That one could be played with and altered to become a really great story.  I personally think it could work as a short-story or a full-length novel.

I’ve had several dreams that have inspired me to write.  Some are just fragments, but all have made me stop and think, “What could I do with that?”

This is The Raven, off in search of Inspiration.

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