My Dreams Judge Me

I’ve always had quite vivid, often peculiar dreams. An enduring favourite remains the one in which I was attending Hogwarts, which was located in Brisbane’s Myer Centre (a shopping mall, for foreigners), and was berating Professor Xavier for reading my email. Really, I swear I actually dreamed this.

The most recent one of note – aside from the one in which I married James Bond, and when I woke up couldn’t think why because there are SO MANY FICTIONAL CHARACTERS I WOULD RATHER MARRY, but as far as I recall I was doing it to spite my actual husband who *does* like James Bond – is the one I believe I have previously mentioned, in which I attended a writing seminar with my friend Miranda on the art of writing Choose Your Own Adventure stories, which was going very well until the zombies attacked. (Wow, that was quite a run-on sentence. I considered fixing it, but it’s so magnificently long that I thought I should preserve it as an example to future generations.)

Anyway, I dreamed about attending a writing seminar, which was nice of my brain, since I can’t afford to go to real ones just now, but given that I’ve never had any desire to write a choose-your-own-adventure story I’m puzzled as to why that was the subject. I actually learned some things, too, which only goes to show that my subconscious doesn’t skimp when it comes to suspiciously brawny writing instructors who also fight zombies. I wrote down what I had learned, which mostly boiled down to ‘how you can plan the structure of one of these suckers so it won’t fry your brain’ and passed it on to Cult-Leader Kess who runs our writing group. It got used last night, which made me happy!

And I finally figured out why my brain had done this to me. I’m a pantser, not a planner, and I often fall foul of the Pantser’s Bane – a floppy middle section and lost plot direction. So my subconscious dragged me to a seminar on the one genre  that has to be planned. That I can’t just blithely assume will work out as I go along.

My dreams judge me. And now I kind of want to write a choose-your-own-adventure story.

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One thought on “My Dreams Judge Me

  1. I very rarely dream, or if I do I don’t remember, but as a teenager I did once dream that I was an armoured knight in the retinue of Elizabeth I, who for some reason was riding, with that retinue, through the shiopping centre in West Harrow. As we passed the police car park and the big plate-glass supermarket windows I rode ahead, caught her up and said “Have a care, Madam, for fear there may be regicides about.”

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