I’ve Truly Just Become a Writer

Today I actually feel like a writer. No I haven’t gotten any acceptance letters or submitting anything that looks promising. Last night I had a dream. I had a dream about writing. I dreamed about something I do all the time so that I do not lose ideas I have for stories. I dreamed I was in bed thinking but I had to get up and write down the idea I had right then and not try to recall it in the morning when it would likely be gone. At the time, I wasn’t aware I was dreaming and I was still afraid I would lose the idea. I then proceeded to dream about the story I was formulating with that idea. Of course, it went all over the place and ended up being something else, which tends to happen in dreams.

However, when I woke up this morning, I managed to remember the idea I had at the beginning of the dream. I wrote it down in my notebook. I wrote down some other details of the dream. I may be able to incorporate this into a story I already have planned or I may have to start a new one. In either case, this dream just tells me how essential writing has become to my life. I now eat, sleep and dream writing. This is something I have to do. I’ve been trying to listen more to my instincts and intuition and this is definitely trying to tell me something. It is my life now and I can’t fight it.