So it finally happened...a week went by without a post. I'm not sure how that happened, though it's been building toward it. Time has had a way of getting away from me lately. Or more appropriately, I suppose I've been allowing time to take me on its current without fighting the waves as is our usual habit in this modern world.
One thing that has haunted me all week is a dream I had Wednesday night. Every detail was so exact and real. I had flashes of it the entire next day. And more intriguing was the incredible emotional connection I had with one character in the dream, someone who doesn't exist in real life. But in the dream, it was someone I'd known and I had clear memories of this person and our relationship. I've had dream memories before, but never quite so vivid. I could remember circumstances, visits, time spent together, etc. An imagined life to be sure.
The main character in my novel Life is But a Dream has dream memories of someone she's never met. It's a major part of the book. Perhaps it's gotten to that point where my life is now imitating my art rather than other way around. If so, that's not an entirely bad place to be.
One thing that has haunted me all week is a dream I had Wednesday night. Every detail was so exact and real. I had flashes of it the entire next day. And more intriguing was the incredible emotional connection I had with one character in the dream, someone who doesn't exist in real life. But in the dream, it was someone I'd known and I had clear memories of this person and our relationship. I've had dream memories before, but never quite so vivid. I could remember circumstances, visits, time spent together, etc. An imagined life to be sure.
The main character in my novel Life is But a Dream has dream memories of someone she's never met. It's a major part of the book. Perhaps it's gotten to that point where my life is now imitating my art rather than other way around. If so, that's not an entirely bad place to be.
I find when I'm in the middle of writing a book, the lines blur quite often. Not surprising as we are there between the lines, on some level we have that intimate understanding (recognition) with our characters. (Hugs)Indigo
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