The Stuff of Dreams

If you ever find yourself thinking your brain isn’t creative, just go to sleep for a while. If your dreams can’t convince you otherwise, then I’m a badger.

Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger Badger...Mushroom, Mushroom

Just a for instance, I have been feeling a little stressed/sick/fevered/overworked lately. Last night was my final night of work before a whopping six days off (!!!), and my body looked at me and said, “F U, Emmie. You’re all, ‘I’m gonna get up and write!’ And I’m all, ‘That’s whut yoooou think, biatch!'” And of course it won that spat, and I woke up at 2.

TWO!

Growl. Again. I guess I needed it. Besides, here I am, and in all that slightly ghetto talk from my bod, it ended up giving me something to write about this afternoon. Last night I had a dream about the zombie apocalypse. This is actually a recurring dream, and I think the fact that it is such keeps me from getting behind the e-pub revolution. The idea of having all my work disappear were electricity to become obsolete scares me more than the zombies. I’ll keep my shelves, thanksh.

But I digress. This wasn’t just any zombie apocalypse. I was with a group of people including my husband, and we stumbled across a little clan of survivors on a farm (think Hirshel’s a la Walking Dead, but snazzier and with more children) where we grew oranges and fought the dead. We lived there for a while in the dream, but then we ventured out to…where else? DISNEY WORLD! It was deserted! It was epic! But then we ended up in Manhattan (apparently in this zombie apocalypse, people are quite mobile) in a high rise apartment with a friend’s family and some zombies. Another quirk of the apocalypse was that the zombies maintained their personalities for a while and could be safe-ish to be around. That’s something that they played with in Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and I thought it worked fairly well. Anyway, the last thing I recall in the dream, we returned to Disney, and it was once again open and making tons of money. Ah, capitalism. Even in a zombie apocalypse.

Something like this.

The point is, all of this is chock full of inspiration. Why were we growing oranges on the farm? How come the zombies were safe for a while after they got infected? There’s a novel in there, I swear it.

I’ve had some pretty bizarre dreams in the past, like the one where if I ate five pickles, I would explode, and someone had forced me to eat four.

Diabolical.

I’ve also spent a lot of time dreaming I was Buffy Summers. Regardless, gentle viewers, if you’re looking for inspiration, you needn’t look farther than the unplumbed depths of your own wacky, wacky brain.

Start writing them down. You never know when one will decide to start gnawing away at your flesh.

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About Emmie Mears

Saving the world from brooding, one self-actualized vampire at a time.

Posted on November 20, 2011, in writing process and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. LOL the pickle thing was crazy! I love pickles…

    I don’t typically remember my dreams, at least not anymore. I’ve heard that you have to train yourself to do so by writing them down immediately upon waking. I also think my lack of memories might be a product of not getting enough sleep…I don’t think I’m getting into the REM phase enough. I believe I need to do something about that…because I’ve also heard that not dreaming can produce insanity. Hmmm.

    I laughed my cackly-witch laugh. That’s a sign of a funny post. Well done!

  2. I’m not sure what that pickle dream means, but I’d make sure to shoot ’em before they got too close. 😉

    My dreams are very orchestrated (I practice lucid dreaming), so though lots of cool things come out of my dreams, the really wacky stuff comes out of my day dreams.

    Either way, you are right. Time to just think and dream is critical to creativity.

  3. The conversation you and your body had made me laugh so hard!! haha. It’s funny how our bodies just seem to know what we need sometimes, even if it isn’t convenient. 😛

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