Lately I've been having this reoccurring dream that slips away not long after I wake up. I'm left only with the distant impression that I have dreamed it before and that I am somehow connected to these creatures that are stalking me.
The point of this post is that dreams are full of crafty little bits of ideas but if you don't write them down then they aren't worth anything. When I was in College I took this English course called Dreams and Interpretations. It was an excellent class. I absolutely loved it. One of the lessons, was especially exciting to me. It was a lesson written by or guest written by Stephen King. In the book Mr. King used examples from his novels about parts of them that were actually from his own dreams. Salem's Lot for instance was full of ripe terrifying descriptions straight from his subconscious imagination. He tweaked them of course but he said that to him the best writing happened when you were in a state of between. That cusp in-between awake and slumber, where dreams reside. It is in this foggy state that you can find or tap into a fountain of inspiration.
I think the best writing comes from this place. So many people ask me where my idea's come and most of the time I can't answer. Other books sometimes inspire, movies, music, real life horrors, trends, tweets, the truth is the idea comes from somewhere unknown. An unfathomable bottomless pit that is dark and murky and nameless.
Keep a dream journal. Keep it near you so you can write everything you remember down before it is gone. This morning I had a wonderful dream that I didn't write down. It's just wispy smoke now. The faint glimmer of shapes and feelings.
Write it down! The moment it hits you, the moment the synapses snap and meet and that fathomless pit spits up something substantial.
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