Dreaming, Walking and Writing

I don't usually dream about writing, never about my characters which I think would be completely cool, sometimes about me actually writing and I try to read along and hope that I remember it when I wake up because I am convinced that it is brilliant. I never do and I am sure it never is. But last night I dreamt that someone showed me a photo of me sitting at this stone table writing and I look blissful. Behind me is this amazing vista of mesas and plateaus and tiny paths and streets leading everywhere and nowhere. Then I remember being there on vacation and as I look at the photo it rotates so that I can see beyond the edges of the photo. I ask for a copy and want to post it near my desk to remember how blissful writing can be.

It must be a reflection of my writing day yesterday. I put it off all morning. Ate three handfuls of chocolate chips before I finally dragged myself to my desk where I ended up staying and writing for three hours. The time flew by. I'd look up and another hour had gone by. I think part of me was riding the energy of finishing "Ron Carlson Writes a Story", which will have to a whole other post. Let me just say it is the best book on writing that I have read- and I've read alot!

During my walk this morning all sorts of pieces started falling into place for my story. I've noticed that my walks need to be at least 40 minutes long. The first twenty are taken up with all sorts of garbage but after that I seem to settle into a rhythm and the story kind of drifts across the screen in my mind and I see that Kevin is actually Sarah's older brother which I will need to say in an earlier story- easy fix. And that Marty peeks out of the window of Reed's room at the end of the story and sees her father with Abby and that makes sense and echoes back to something earlier in the story. I know that all my writing days will not be like this but I want to remember this feeling so that it will get me through the decidedly unblissful writing moments.