I had a dream last night. I dreamt that I had written two maybe three sentences and it was brilliant, cohesive, and beautiful. Somehow within these few words I had gathered all needed aspects of a good short story and represented them in twenty words. And not just represented well, but I knew it would be praised, studied, and revered.
I recall moments before I popped out of this dream, saying to my sleeping self, “Don’t forget this. It is important and will change your life. You will have doors open to write as much as you like, always if that is what you want. And it is.”
Then I woke up.
As I got out of bed and tried to shake the sleep off of me I remembered that I had a dream. I knew it was important. When I tried to dig deep back into the details I realized the premise. When I tried to open the door to the actual passage all I saw were words typed on a page very similar to what I am typing on now. But I couldn’t read them. But I knew they were there.
This dream showed me that what I have is inside me I just need to get it on paper. I may have even been disappointed, no I would have, to not have conjured those words on my own but had my subconscious feed them to me on a platter. I want to feel the writing, I want to live in it, and I want to breathe it in.
So the purpose of this blog has been decided. While I will come forth and have a good time and rant and rave about silly things and not so silly things, I am setting a goal of one short story every fifteen days. I will allow myself to go to twenty but nothing beyond that.
Gotta start somewhere. Right?
Woman on Pause