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).

The Beauties and Beast of Writing with a Friend

Last week (at the very moment my friend Madelyn Rosenberg and I were announcing to the world the good news that our young adult novel DreamBoy will be coming out next summer from Sourcebooks Fire), a friend shared with us this New York Times article,”On Writing with Others” by John Kaag.

Having just finished a young adult novel with the awesome Madelyn (and begun another with the awesome Jenny Bitner), I have found the experience to be full of surprises–almost entirely the good kind.

Here’s my take on five reasons that having a co-pilot on that long trip across a novel is a good thing… and one reason it’s not. Some are echos of Kaag’s excellent insights; others are my own.

The amazing Madelyn Rosenberg

The amazing Madelyn Rosenberg

THE BEAUTIES

1 ~ a committed relationship ~

Perhaps the most encouraging part of collaborative writing is the commitment I bring to the project. When I work on my own, it’s easy for me to convince myself (after 20 or 30… or even 120 pages) that what I’m writing is crap. When I write with a friend, however, I am committed for the long haul,whether or not it seems crappy during those horrible spells of self-doubt. I can’t help thinking of all the time and work my friend has put in on the project, and that makes me push through the muck, even when I’m not sure where exactly we’re headed.

2 ~ instant editor = better risks ~

I am, as Kaag suggests, much more likely to let loose with some half-baked notions in early drafts when I know my co-writer is there. These risks are usually huge fails, but every so often, they work fantastically.

When I write fiction on my own, I may take the same risks, but I worry much more over them. On my own, a serious misstep could head me down a long and fruitless path. Since I don’t have an instant editor, I may not be convinced of my mistake until I’ve already pounded out another 50 pages or so. And we all know there’s nothing quite so sweet as trashing a huge stack of pages just start over where you were a month before! Yippee!

When I write with a friend, I know I have an instant editor who can shake her head and point me in a better direction. Yippee, for real!

The astounding Jenny Bitner

The astounding Jenny Bitner

3 ~ operation UNblocked ~

There is nothing so amazing as getting stuck with a scene, sending it off (sometimes mid-sentence) to a trusted friend, and having it return a day or so later with that scene successfully finished and another started.

Gone is the head-pounding!

Gone the endless trips to the kitchen’s candy jar!

Gone the long walks full of mulling and wondering and wishing I knew what came next!

4 ~ surprise! ~

The surprising things that happen when you write with a friend are beyond fun. I’ve created structures that I thought were headed one way, only to find out when Madelyn returned her editions/additions that there was a whole other dimension to the scene if I just tilted my head one way or another.

Sometimes it’s a matter of a fortunate misunderstanding. For example, when I first named the character Talon for DreamBoy, I intended for her to be a male. Madelyn read the name as a female and used a female pronoun for her. So I’m easy… and here’s proof. I just rolled with it. Now Talon, the girl, may be my favorite character in the novel, and calling her a boy would probably prompt her to reach through the pages of the book and whack me on the head. (Yeah, she’s got that kind of spunk.)

5 ~ balance ~

Let’s face it. I have obsessions — those go-to things that give me energy and make me glow. I would write about rivers and earthworms and clouds all day if someone would buy me food and cover my mortgage for doing so. But a book about nothing but rivers and earthworms and clouds is… well, I was going to say boring, but since I’m obsessed, I actually find that idea pretty intriguing. Maybe I should write a book about nothing but rivers and earthworms and clouds? Hmmm… But I digress. Back to point: I have obsessions, so do my my co-writers. And sometimes those obsessions, being as they are obsessions, get to be a bit much.

I mean, what is it about the canned peaches in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road? And I’m pretty sure Nora Roberts was watching way too many of those cook-off shows when she wrote Angels Fall.

So having two different writers with two different sets of obsessions gives a bit of balance to the work. Or at least I like to think so.

THE BEAST

There are some projects that are not good candidates for collaborative writing because co-authorship requires you to let go. And letting go of something extremely close to you can be difficult and scary… and quite frankly, unnecessary. Here are the facts: The final writing will not reflect your solitary vision nor be subject to your solitary control, and there are some things that won’t come out right without your solitary vision and control.

So choose wisely when considering a project. Are you willing to let go of your idea and allow it to become what it becomes? Do you have a friend whom you respect enough to work with? If you can answer yes without reservation, you might want to give collaboration a try. If not, keep it to yourself until you’re ready to publish. And then let it go the old-fashioned way.

(… oh, and the waiting… sometimes the waiting can be be a drag…)

The 3rd, 2nd & 1st Best Thing Kiera Cass Said @ the Blacksburg Public Library / PART 4

(These last three are short so I’m just clustering them together.)

3. “I knew there was something a little off about me; I just didn’t know what it was… but now I own it. I’m okay with being a weirdo.”

If that isn’t the journey through young adulthood, I don’t know what is. Everyone is off, and everyone feels that it’s only them. And then they get over it.

2. CENSORED.

Ok, this one was really odd and funny, but I’m editing it out. For those of you in attendance: no, this was not Keira’s comment about “soft core porn.” It was better than that. But after some reflection, I couldn’t recall with 100% clarity whether or not this was one of the “hushhush secrets not to leave this room” or not. To be on the safe side, I’m just cutting it. One might ask why I didn’t go with FIVE Best Things in the first place? Well, that would have made sense of course, and in a perfect world I would have planned better. Sorry! For now, I just need a placeholder… or a math tutor… or something.

KieraCass (1024x656)1. “Maybe I can be there for your next baby, too.”

This has nothing to do with Kiera Cass the writer, but a good bit to do with Kiera Cass the person. Earlier in the evening, Kiera had mentioned how she was tweeting in the delivery room after the birth of her daughter. When I got my book signed, I told her I would follow her on twitter so I could be there for the birth of her next baby. (Not that she’s pregnant, people… don’t get excited! I mean in the far future, whenever that day should come.) As I walked away, she called, “Maybe I can be there for your next baby too!”

And as unlikely as that is (I have four kids already, which is, let me tell you, a LOT of kids), I thought it was so sweet of her to make that gesture—in essence to say that there might be a world in which we could be actual friends.

The Fourth Best Thing Kiera Cass Said @ the Blacksburg Public Library / PART 3

“Who decides to start a career when you have a two month old?”

I loved this because it is so life.

Kiera was talking about how she was had just given birth and gotten her land-legs as a new parent when she started trying to find an agent to represent her for The Selection. In something of a whirlwind, she found several agents who wanted to sell her book and subsequently received bids from a couple of different publishing houses.

Meanwhile, as she set forth on this new career path, she was also doing all the normal diaper-changing/singing-the-baby-back-to-sleep-at-2-in-the-morning things that infants require. And somehow, it worked.

As I repeatedly tell my husband (usually after he asks me “What were we thinking?!”): if we waited until we were ready to have kids, we’d never have them.

Life doesn’t just stop and present you with a flawless bubble in which to birth and rear your children. Case in point: I am literally nursing my son as I write this blog.

(Sorry if that was TMI, but it had to be said.)

So here’s the nutshell: Don’t wait for the perfect hour to start something. The perfect hour doesn’t exist. Just figure out where your priorities are and start acting on them.

The Fifth Best Thing Kiera Cass Said @ the Blacksburg Public Library / PART 2

IMG_2131“I couldn’t find a place to put it, so I just put it in the future.”

When planning out her setting for The Selection, Kiera Cass (a history major in college) struggled to find the right moment in time for her story. She knew she wanted something with a bit of a fairy-tale gloss, but the whole long-ago/far-away thing just wasn’t working for her. So she decided to free herself from the confines of the past and place her tale in an imaginary future.

This, folks, is problem solving at its best.

Sure, there’s the whole world-building thing to figure out, but there’s also a blessed freedom to the idea of going out into the unknown—in an entirely opposite direction from your own preconceived notions about what should or should not be.

So when life gives you lemons, you don’t have to make lemonade. You can just cut up the lemons and add them to your iced tea. Or juggle them while gargling soda. Or throw them out altogether and pour yourself a glass of bourbon. Whatever works.

Good to remember. Thanks, Kiera.

IMG_2130

The Sixth Best Thing Kiera Cass Said @ the Blacksburg Public Library… plus way too much randomness from me / PART 1

IMG_2130

Kiera Cass @ library book signing

“My soul is seventeen.”

Kiera Cass is a woman with open arms. Open eyes. Open mouth. (And I mean that as a compliment. Open mouths lead to all kinds of good things: understanding, song, the eating of peanut butter M&Ms.) Unlike certain writers I know, she appears genuinely to appreciate the existence of other human beings, specifically young ones.

In the hour or so that she chatted with a smattering of folks at her hometown library on Tuesday, Kiera had kind words to say about the gazillion people she’s encountered in her career as a writer. However, the one (nameless) person about which she did NOT have nice things to say was a young adult writer she met who hated young adults.

Kiera may have been too polite to ask the obvious question—“WHY IN THE HECK ARE YOU WRITING FOR TEENS?”—but it’s a question worth asking.

It’s one I’ve had to ask myself of late. Not because I’m a hater; I happen to adore teenagers and all their energy and intelligence and worry and wildness. The question is one I need to ask myself for the simple reason that I am also writing for teens. So really, why am I doing it?

When I was myself a young adult, I wasn’t exposed to a lot in the teen lit genre. I went straight from Ella Fannie’s Elephant Joke Book to Chronicles of Narnia to Kurt Vonnegut. Oh yeah, I cried me good over some Judy Bloom at some point in between, but that was about it.

Thus, as a young writer, it never occurred to me to write for young people specifically. I didn’t know people DID that. (And at that time, not so many of them did.) Plus, I just wanted to play with language and make up tiny stories and think about true things. Translation: I became a poet. And in good poet fashion, I spent years and years writing lyric observations of the sky that were ignored by everyone and everything, including the sky.

Then I had an idea that was not a poem and was not a tiny story and was not “great literature.” It was fun and light and entertaining (or at least it entertained me). Around the same time I was teaching a class on the American bestseller, and a whole slew of college freshmen started telling me about their favorite books. I started reading the books they were excited about, which were in this new (to me) genre called “young adult.” As a writer, the notion that authors could write books for young people—not for snooty intellectual-types—was quite frankly a revelation.

Suddenly, writing the big bad novel was not so scary anymore. I just needed to focus on the idea of telling an entertaining story and let the rest take care of itself. I didn’t have to impress Kurt Vonnegut or the people who read Kurt Vonnegut. I didn’t even have to impress the people who kept books by Kurt Vonnegut unopened on their bedside tables. I simply had to please myself and my imagined audience. (Oh yes, and my co-writer, the astounding Madelyn Rosenberg… but more about her in a future blog.)

This experience of writing a YA novel has opened a sort of floodgate of possibilities for me. When I was in high school, I may have had the soul of a crusty 80-year-old fisherman… but now, as I have gone forward into life, I think my soul may be aging in reverse order.

I’m not quite sure I could say, like Kiera Cass, that it’s seventeen.

My soul is a little more gawky and hopeful and clueless than that.

Closer, I think, to sixteen.

~

~

** FOOTNOTE: Just want to add that I do not intend to dis Kurt Vonnegut in any way. He is one of my faves. And he had some great stuff to say about the writing process, too.