The writing I post today is not the dream itself. I will not post the actual dream, because it, like many dreams, concerns a lodge frozen in the 70's and run by Mennonites, an underground world with the white plastic walls of a gas station bathroom, and random sex with a stranger.
I couldn't get the dream out of my head (blame middle age) so I decided to analyze it, beginning with a Gestalt method -- "Talk about the dream from the viewpoint of the mint green Formica countertop" etc Then I switched to interrogating the dream by asking questions of the characters: "Who are you and why did you get involved with this? What did you feel at the time? What would you like me to know about you?"
This process resulted in a snippet of dialogue. Note that this dialogue didn't make it into the book (It's a little too dreamy) but a book grew out of the relationship these two characters have. The book is not romance, and has only oblique references to sex. But here's a snippet of my creative process, "Interrogating the Dream":
*****
Josh dreamed that night. The scene was a battered wooden stage made up as a living room with a beige couch, a side table cluttered with books, and an easy chair. Jeanne sat on the chair; the lights were set relatively low to simulate a relaxing evening. The mood, however, was anything but relaxed. The dream unfolded, a disturbing play starring him and Jeanne. When he woke up, he pulled out his ever-present notebook, and transcribed the dream as a script:
A SIMPLE, BUT COMFORTABLE LIVING ROOM. THE FURNITURE IS A COUCH WITH A SIDE TABLE AND AN EASY CHAIR.
Jeanne sits on the couch, leaning forward, holding a piece of paper. She wears a black sweater and wears her hair down.
JOSH (VOICEOVER)
I'm sorry. I'm afraid I hurt you.
JEANNE
It's okay. I just feel strange about it.
JOSH (V.O.)
I think I took away your choice.
JEANNE
No. I could have stopped you. I don't know why I didn't.
JOSH (V.O.)
I don't know why I did it. I was sleepwalking. I was hungry.
JEANNE
This scares me. It's too dark.
JOSH (V.O.)
I want to bring this into the light. I'll find you.
Josh walks onto the stage. He wears a red shirt with the Chinese symbol "ai" and jeans. He sits on the couch, Jeanne stands up and begins to pace, stopping to turn to him when she delivers her lines.
JEANNE
How old are you?
JOSH
I'm 20.
JEANNE
That worries me. You're fragile.
JOSH
Why do you say that?
JEANNE
You're so young.
JOSH
I'm young. I'm short. I've had to develop more strength than most. Remember who asked to bring this into the light.
JEANNE
Why leave me a note when you were right outside?
JOSH
Strangely, words have more power when you have to read them.
JEANNE
How so?
JOSH
I say words and they're ephemeral. They only stay as long as your memory lets them. I write them, and they're there for you to reread.
JEANNE
What if I throw away the paper?
JOSH
Your conscience remembers why you threw away the paper. The words remain.
Jeanne stops pacing and faces him on the couch.
JEANNE
Let's bring this into the light.
JOSH
Okay. Let's do it.
JEANNE
Why did you -- I don't understand what happened.
JOSH
I know. I thought I was dreaming. Until the end. This is not how I wanted my first time to be. I wanted my first time to be slower. I wanted to freeze time; I wanted to register every pressure, every breath. I wanted to see your face.
Jeanne sits on the couch next to Josh.
JEANNE
Some first times are ludicrous, some are hurried, some are drunken, and some are rape.
JOSH
What was your first time like?
JEANNE
Mine was rape.
JOSH
How could someone --
JEANNE
Two someones. I was thirteen. It's long past.
JOSH
Oh my God. I'm sorry.
JEANNE
I shouldn't have told you.
JOSH
Why not?
JEANNE
You're so damn young.
JOSH
I'm not so sure of that. I think you're younger than me sometimes, inside. And maybe I'm ancient, like a tree. And maybe sometimes I can give shelter.
Jeanne turns away.
JEANNE
I can't accept your offer. You're too damn young.
Jeanne stands and turns to Josh.
JEANNE
What do you want from me?
JOSH
I want you to accept me for who I am.
JEANNE
So who are you?
JOSH
I was quiet and easily overlooked. I fell in love with my anger, fell into darkness. Until I watched a storm -- I saw lightning split a tree. I realized I was the tree as well as the storm. I had to ask myself what the tree needed.
JEANNE
What did the tree need?
JOSH
To be allowed to be.
Jeanne walks across the stage and addresses the audience.
JEANNE
It's all backwards. We should have gotten the chance to say "this is who I am" first.
Josh stands and walks toward her.
JOSH
Would you have even looked at me?
Jeanne turns to face him.
JEANNE
That's the hardest thing you've asked.
JOSH
Why?
JEANNE
Oh my God. You don't understand. You're beautiful. I can hardly take my eyes off you. And I'm older, and I've lived more. I have all the power here. I touch you, and I'll overwhelm you. I'll stunt your growth, you'll end up gnarled and twisted.
JOSH
You describe yourself as the Wicked Witch in this tale.
JEANNE
Well?
JOSH
What if I came up to you and introduced myself? Isn't there power in that? And what if I started the conversation?
Jeanne turns away.
JEANNE
That's not what I'm scared of.
Josh puts his hands on Jeanne's shoulders to get her to look at him
JOSH
What if I said you were beautiful?
JEANNE
I would probably cry.
JOSH
What if I kissed your tears --
JEANNE
You shouldn't –
JOSH
Why not?
JEANNE
Because then I might fall a little in love with you.
JOSH
And then I'd be powerless?
Jeanne walks away from Josh a few steps to break the contact and turns to face him.
JEANNE
Do you accept me for who I am?
JOSH
Who are you?
JEANNE
I'm 50 years old, I'm fat. I laugh too loud.
JOSH
That's just your skin. That isn't all of you.
JEANNE
I laugh a lot. I have to watch what I say sometimes.
JOSH
Go deeper.
JEANNE
I fall in love all the time. I don’t weigh the consequences of words. I fight a fatal attraction to people's darkness. I'm the strongest person I know.
JOSH
But who are you?
JEANNE
I am a child who talks to birds.
Josh closes the distance between him and Jeanne.
JEANNE
Why did you?
JOSH
I was hungry for touch. Did I hurt you?
JEANNE
No, you were surprisingly ... gentle.
JOSH
Good. I don't think I could stand it if I wasn't. But -- why did you?
JEANNE
I guess I wanted to be wanted. Not a good reason, I know. It's dangerous -- I give away all my power to the person who pays attention. Over and over again I replay my childhood, hoping that for once it ends differently.
JOSH
I guess I do the same thing. 'Notice me, I'm not insignificant.'
JEANNE
No, you are not insignificant. I don't know how anyone could make that mistake.
JOSH
But they do. To be a man, you're supposed to be tall, built, substantial. People look over my head to look for men.
JEANNE
Maybe they don't know how to recognize a man.
JOSH
Maybe they don't know how to recognize beauty, either.
Josh closes the distance between him and Jeanne; they face each other, putting their hands on each other's shoulders.
(Pause) What if I said you were beautiful?
JEANNE
I would probably cry.
JOSH
What if I kissed your tears --
JEANNE
I might fall a little in love with you.
JOSH
Accept me for who I am. I am the tree and the storm.
JEANNE
I am the strongest person I know, a child who talks to birds.
JOSH
I am not insignificant. Don’t overlook me.
JEANNE
Choosing from strength, it ends differently
JOSH
I want to freeze time, I want to register every pressure, every breath. I want to see your face.
Josh and Jeanne embrace, and the curtain falls.
Dreams are uncontrolled and are unpredictable unless they are the reoccurring ones. I think they inspire all people whetewhether they are creative or not. Lanetta
ReplyDeleteI love the fact that dreams do not follow the linear rules and sensible paths that my mind does. One of the things that has stopped me from writing (up until I found my groove five years ago) was being too concerned with realism. No, logical plot holes are a bad thing because people will write and say, "No way, the gas station attendant is NOT also a brain surgeon" (unless you explain how he walked away from being a brain surgeon earlier in the book). But in writing fantasy/SF there has to be some access to nonstandard reality. Dreams help me get there.
ReplyDelete