The Dream Journal for Writers


A while ago, Cassandra Page invited me to do a guest post for her blog. I used the title of her work-in-progress, Lucid Dreaming, as a springboard for my topic–the dream journal. Below is what I had to say about using the dream journal for inspiration in writing.
(The image to the side, by the way, is “Famous While You Sleep” by Ravenelle / TORLEY on Flickr. Dreamy!)
Aboriginal art showing the dreamtime story of the attempt to catch the deceased's spirit, from Wikimedia Commons.

Aboriginal art showing Dreamtime.

onDreamsI’ve always been obsessed with dreams—not surprising for someone whose upcoming co-authored novel is named Dream Boy, right?

1freud-dreams1.jpgBut it’s not just me who’s obsessed. Fascination with dreams is as old as dreams themselves. Ancient Egyptians looked to dreams for portents of the future, while Australian Aborigines saw dreams as the secret to understanding the past. There’s Aristotle’s On Dreams, Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams, the Biblical representation of dreams as God’s cosmic telephone, the zillion weird dreams that figure in folklore and fairy tales, the zillion more books that interpret the symbolism of dreams…

inception-GIF-inception-2010-14288153-272-124And of course let’s not forget Leonardo DiCaprio going all dark and broody as the lovelorn dream thief in Inception.

As a writer, though, I’m perhaps most interested in how we can allow our dreams to inspire and shape creative works.

That’s where the dream journal comes in.

One of the characters in Dream Boy keeps just such a journal. Drawing a line down the middle of the page, she writes everything she remembers about a dream on one side; on the other, she jots notes about real life events that may have triggered her subconscious.

In the notebook, reality goes in one place and dreams go in another; a clear line is drawn between the two. Of course, very little in life is quite as tidy as that—certainly not our creative processes.

So, why keep a dream journal in the first place?

For one thing, it’s fun. Much like this gif dance party.

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For another, all the weird stuff that floats around in your subconscious (also like this gif dance party) can be a good place to go when your work-in-progress gets blocked up.

Make a game of it: choose some random element from a recent dream and work it into a scene you’re writing. It will keep you going—and in writing, if you just keep going (somewhere… anywhere!), you often end up headed in the direction you genuinely needed to go.

(Plus, here’s a secret: the random element you select is probably not that random, even if it seems downright absurd. What happens when you dream and what happens when you write is not so different, really. They both connect to the subconscious. And the images that feed the subconscious have a way of making their own sense, regardless of your intentions.)

Perhaps most importantly, however, using a journal to map out the chaotic terrain of your dreams can feed your over-all imaginative life in very rewarding ways.

Dream Map by Various Brennemans, Flickr

Dream Map by Various Brennemans, Flickr

As you go along—recording your dreams—you are essentially trying to make sense of something that is by its very nature senseless. That process inevitably opens you up to contradiction. (Real world says X and ONLY X is true; Dreamworld says Y and Z and X’s second cousin Arnie is true. On Tuesdays. On other days, it says that baseballs turn into feathers when you sneeze on them. And your favorite dog never really died, but was just trapped all this time in a bomb shelter with elves.)

Contradiction, as you can see from the above, is pretty noisy. But it is also (at least in my experience) inspiring.

Think of it this way: the tension between two opposing ideas is often the wire on which good writing balances. So, exploring the boundary between reality and dream allows us to perch for a moment on that wire. When we return to our work of fiction, we see more. We see better. We see connections we might have missed otherwise.

But what about those who don’t even remember their dreams? How can any of this help them?

Unexpectedly, I have found that the very act of keeping a dream journal stimulates the recollection of dreams. So the more you plan to remember, the more you remember. Weird, but true.

Here’s how it works in two super-easy (super-cheesy?) steps:

  1. Put a notebook and pen beside your bed. Before drifting to sleep, remind yourself that you intend to remember and record your dreams. You might even say something as socially uncomfortable as “Hey, you are going to dream, and you will remember your dreams! They will be interesting dreams! Enjoy!”
  1. In the morning, before you get up or start thinking about your day, write down whatever scraps of dream you remember.

And at first they may be just scraps. But as you go on, exercising both your memory and tolerance for awkward conversations with yourself, you may find that you can build up to a pretty impressive recall. And remembering your dreams is a good thing—not only for the creative advantage—but also because your dreams can be an important shaping influence in your life.

Journal by Sammie Harding, Flickr

Journal by Sammie Harding, Flickr

I recently tweeted my two-year-old’s dream: “The cat was in my dream, and he was happy to be with me.” (Of course in real life, the cat barely tolerates my son, so this was pure wish fulfillment.) I was amazed at how many people tweeted back to share their own dreams—from the workaholic who dreams only of work to the woman who dreams of resuscitating zombies with a friendly Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Dreams are something we take with us into our day. Whether we entirely remember them or not, they are there, an essential part of us—telling us who we are. (Maybe in some ways even making us who we are.)

So listening to dreams—paying attention to wildness of the mind at moments when it answers to no master—is a worthwhile endeavor. And a dream journal is a great place to start.

About DREAM BOY (coauthored by Mary Crockett and Madelyn Rosenberg)

Annabelle Manning feels like she’s doing time at her high school in Chilton, Virginia. She has her friends at her lunchtime table of nobodies. What she doesn’t have are possibilities. Or a date for Homecoming. Things get more interesting at night, when she spends time with the boy of her dreams. But the blue-eyed boy with the fairytale smile is just that—a dream. Until the Friday afternoon he walks into her chemistry class.

One of friends suspects he’s an alien. Another is pretty sure it’s all one big case of deja vu. While Annabelle doesn’t know what to think, she’s willing to believe that the charming Martin Zirkle may just be her dream come true. But as Annabelle discovers the truth behind dreams—where they come from and what they mean—she is forced to face a dark reality she had not expected. More than just Martin has arrived in Chilton. As Annabelle learns, if dreams can come true, so can nightmares.

Pre-order DREAM BOY today: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Indiebound

Add DREAM BOY to your Goodreads list.

About Mary

A native of the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, Mary grew up as the youngest of six children in a family of misfits. She has worked as everything from a history museum director to a toilet seat hand model. In her other life, she’s an award-winning poet, professional eavesdropper, and the person who wipes runny noses. If you tweet at her @MaryLovesBooks, chances are she will tweet back.

Connect with Mary: Website | TwitterFacebookGoodreadsTumblrPinterest

Related: Check out my post of 14 Firsts at The BookYArd (including my first dream).

Working with a budding writer at WordSparks Camp.

Cut, paste, write!

Salem Times Register intern Stephanie Floyd just posted on Facebook some of the photos she took at WordSparks on Tuesday. With her permission, I am posting them here. For our collage project, we made word/image collages with a center word and four corner words. After creating sentences that connected the central word with the corner words, we used those sentences as the springboard for a story. When we didn’t know where to go in our stories, we let the pictures guide us to our next idea.

All photos below are the property of Stephanie Floyd / Salem Times Register. Here we are working on our collages, reading our stories, and playing some games.

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Cute baby portrait

Self-portraits / WordSparks

I had a great time making self-portraits with the WordSparks kids last week–both in art and poetry.

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Ok, that last one wasn’t a camper. He’s my cutie-patootie toddler whose portrait my daughter colored… but how could I leave him out?

After we worked on our self-portraits, we wrote some “I AM” poems.

I’ll include a few here (some transcribed, and some in their handwritten form):

~

I AM  ~ Laura Voros

I am a nose of a hound.
I am an eye of an eagle.
I am the howl of the wolf.
I am the ear of a fox.
I am the leg of a cheetah.
I am the teeth of the lion.
I am the knowledge of the world.
I am the moon.
I am the sun.
I am Mother Nature.

~

I AM ~ Zachary Schultz

I am the sun that shines on your house. I am your house. I am the painting in your house. I am your bed that the painting hangs over. I am the dog that lays in your bed. I am the collar on your dog. I am the tick that hides under your dog’s collar. I am your son that gets rid of the tick that hides under your dog’s collar. I am your son’s favorite amusement park. I am your son’s favorite ride at the amusement park.

~

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I AM ~ Caleb Ching

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I AM ~ Elizabeth Bourlakas

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I AM ~ Sarah Scultz

And just a few more photos from the day:

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If you’re interested in making similar portraits or self-portraits or writing I AM poems, here’s some info.

Portrait Instructions:

First I took photos of the kids standing against a white wall (as I didn’t want the background to be too distracting).

I opened the photos in the regular Windows Photoviewer program (from Windows 7… I have Windows 8, but I loaded the older photoviewer program on my computer, as I like it better). Then I made them grayscale (which is one of the “effects” that come up on the bar at the top of the photoviewer) and cropped them into a square. I save those files under a new name.

I reopened the new files in GIMP (which is a program similar to Photoshop, but unlike Photoshop, it can be downloaded for free). In Gimp, I chose “Filters” and then “Artistic” and then “Photocopy.” (You used to be able to do this project using an actual photocopy machine, but now they are all too fancy and the photos just look like photos– which is not the desired effect for this project.)

I just played with the setting that popped up until I got the desired result (which is something like a coloring book outline of a face).

IsabelleBWIsabelleLines

For example, for this photo, I used
MASK RADIUS 23.03
SHARPNESS .530
PERCENT BLACK .461
PERCENT WHITE . 061

Then you have to export the photo to make it a jpg so it will print. In GIMP, go under “File” and choose “Export.” Then replace “xcf” in the title line with “jpg” after the period.

Then just print, cut, and let the kids color. We used oil pastels, markers, and colored pencils. As you can see from the examples above, each has a different effect.

For the I AM poems, I just told the kids to think metaphorically (we talked a while about metaphor and I gave them examples off the top of my head), think about shifting parts of speech (so they wouldn’t just use adjectives, but nouns and verbs and whatnot),  be wild, have fun–and most importantly, not to worry about making sense!

Oh yeah, also I told them to write at least 10 lines, each beginning with “I am.” :)

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Where Did the Green Man Come From? / WordSparks

Green girl power!

Green girl power!

Here’s the second in a series of posts about last week’s WordSparks Creative Writing Camp at the Salem Museum. I was genuinely thrilled to see these young people enjoying the fun of live drama as they gathered materials for their Green Man (and Woman) Masks and created an origin story for the mysterious Green Man seen for centuries in art and architecture. The kids came up with fantastic stories about how the green folk turned green! I’ll let the pictures talk for themselves.

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Plotting out the play

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Good idea!

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What a smile!

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Ready to go!

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The audience awaits…

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Wait a minute! We’re still working!

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Follow the leader!

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The play begins!

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The boys plot their play

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Action!

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Tada!

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The afternoon group gathers greens

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Nice!

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Collecting from the garden

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… and more collecting

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So lovely!

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Howard and Kaylan

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Bagged!

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Making the masks…

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At work!

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Yes?

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Rainbow eyes!

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The team

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Magnetic Poetry / WordSparks

I just finished up leading WordSparks Creative Writing Camp, so this week I’ll be sharing some pics and tid-bits from the camp. It was a great experience; I  made some new friends and had a blast sharing writing with young people in my community. Who could ask for more?!

Monday: I didn’t take many photos on Monday since we were all just getting to know one another–and nothing quite says “eek!” like having a camera put in your face by an unfamiliar adult. That said, we got to know each other pretty quickly. We played some games, made some art, read some poetry together and wrote some of our own.

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Isabelle leads the morning group in an ice-breaker game

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From Monday’s “Six Ways of Seeing” exercise. A camper brought her finished work (six visions of an old-time radio) back the next day. Later we read Wallace Steven’s “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” and wrote our own “Seeing Again” stories and poems.

Tuesday: We had fun with collage, blackout poem, and magnetic poetry. Here are some of the magnetic poems we came up with. (I haven’t credited these, as some were written in groups and some by individuals, and I didn’t want to leave anyone out by accident. I’m halfway sure, though, that the first two come from Caleb, the third is by Harrison and Howard,  and the last one from Laura.)

I love the enthusiasm of these two. Managers everywhere would do well to keep these in mind:

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Love the surprise at the end:

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Oooh, dark! Also, why more than one heart? Intriguing!

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This one is so wise… beautiful!

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Check us out later this week for more about the week at WordSparks, including Green Man and Woman masks, self-portraits, and bleach t-shirts.

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Green Man (and Woman!) Masks

(photo copyright Mary Crockett)

(photo copyright Mary Crockett)

I’m gearing up for leading WordSparks Creative Writing Camp next week, so I’m getting my kids busy trying out a few of the projects I’ve planned. The first one we tried out is the Green Man (or Woman) Mask.

Basically, the Green Man is a leafy-faced dude who has appeared in art and architecture since ancient times. He looks like this:

(Green Man photos courtesy of Wikimedai Commons. First image by Johannes Otto Först, second and third by Simon Garbutt.)

The idea for the craft is to gather natural materials from the gardens and park surrounding the museum to use in a Green Man or Green Woman mask. Then we’ll write a mask poem… or mask story for the prose inclined.

As I got my kids to  make some prototypes, here are a few things I’ve learned:

1. There is no “wrong” way to do this (at least by my standards).

2. Glue-gun glue is HOT!

3. When you go outside with a big basket and start throwing in lots of leaves, flowers, twigs, grass, etc., and them come back in and dump it all on your kitchen table, you can expect to find tiny bugs on and around your kitchen table for quite a while.

3. My baby makes a super cute Green Man.

The bearded lady. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

The bearded lady. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

Diablo. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

Diablo. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

Mr. Chin Music. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

Mr. Chin Music. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

The Green Girl. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

The Green Girl. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

The Stache. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

The Stache. (photo copyright Mary Crockett)

Blackout Poem / “Before I Went Away” (Does it matter if I’m making sense?)

Here’s another blackout poem, this one from page 5 of “The Beauty’s Daughter.”

Since I’m not sure it makes sense without more punctuation, here’s a transcription:

Before I Went Away

She had never known the true name.
There is no need for thinking, my sister.

When it was necessary to utter lies,
the truth allowed her to call herself

anyone: your sister,
his voice, his ancestry, eyes,

a compliment, her teachers,
their pupils, her friends,

such words.

~

Now, having typed it out, it still doesn’t exactly make sense. But that’s ok with me. A blackout poem isn’t so much as creating literal sense as it is finding an emotional cadence, right? (And yes, I’m aware the words “emotional cadence” probably don’t make sense to anyone but me.)

The kids, hubby and I just finished listening to an audio version of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, and I’m reminded of a great line from the immortal Willy Wonka:

A little nonsense now and then
is relished by the wisest men.

That said, I don’t think my nonsense makes me wise, but it does make me happy.