 | 14 May 09 |
So, lately I have been going to bed really early (for me–like 10:30, which is about five or six hours earlier than normal). And you would think this would be a good thing, that I’d get all of this extra sleep and be all rested but noooooooo, it is not working that way. Apparently my body thinks that three-freaking-thirthy-a.m. is enough sleep, and bang, my brain wakes-the-hell-up and that’s it, I cannot go back to sleep. I have tried, trust me. I have cajoled and promised and nothing works. The upside is, I have been working a lot in the wee hours of the morning and then getting my exercise done for the day (before 9 a.m.), and then when there is activity here which would normally disturb my writing, I’ve been getting the business end of the business stuff done. All good, right?
Right. Fast forward to last night with almost no sleep (headache), but still, three a.m., wide away again. There were a lot of things to do today, too-ing and fro-ing, which was great (saw some friends), but by this evening, I was tired, and for the first time in months, I thought, “Nap.” I used to take naps (she said, longing clear in her voice) a while back, which, of course, contributed to the whole “stays up ’til four in the morning” scenario. And to be honest, it was great for my writing, but I was beginning to not ever see my husband (because I slept late and he had to go off to work), and I had had the insane notion that maybe I ought to not nap and spend time with him in the evening and go to bed, like an actual grown-up. [I know. I know. Seriously, I should have realized right then that there was a flaw in this plan. I think you actually have to be a grown-up for that to work.]
Anyway, I flopped into bed for a nap, and… (okay, here’s an aside… do you ever dream something really weird and you know the whole time that you’re dreaming and that you ought to stop it, but it’s so… odd… you just go along with it because you’re kinda curious where the hell this is taking you? and there were no drugs involved? okay, keep that in mind…)
So, anyway, I start dreaming, and I am informed that I have just been elected the Canadian Prime Minister. I think this is a pretty good feat, seeing how I am not Canadian and wasn’t running, but it’s bound to mean book sales because, well, hey, you know, Prime Minister. But apparently there is some sort of controversy over the idea that someone not Canadian could be elected Prime Minister (picky, picky) and I have to travel up there and take a bunch of meetings to resolve this. It seems like the least I could do. The next thing I know, I am checking into a lovely hotel in Canada (I have no idea where), and when I get to my room, I realize that there has been some sort of mistake. There is luggage (opened) and all sorts of college-boy-hockey-stuff strewn about the room, with the name RENQUIST written on the shirt labels and I deduce (because I am lightning fast this way) that I have been accidentally put into a room with a college boy hockey player. (There were no photos. I do not know if he was cute or not. STUPID SUBCONSCIOUS.)
Anyway, I go down to the concierge to explain the situation, (that I am married and while it is nice that they give out hockey boys with their hotel rooms, I would have to decline). They ask me to write a note, which we will post on the door, because apparently RENQUIST did not leave a cell number and they need to let him know that they had to disable my key–which disabled his key–so they had to give him a new key. The desk clerk hands me an orange highlighter and I begin to write the note, and the whole time I am writing, I have to press down really hard to make the pen work, which is, frankly, weird and cheap of them. I write out RENQUIST and by the time the “T” is written, the “R” is disappearing. I try on another sheet, same thing. Over and over. Finally, I complain that the pen is not working and the clerk gave me a sharpie. Only as I wrote RENQUIST yet again, soap bubbles are coming up out of the page, which is when I realized they had originally given me a Tide pen to start with. And when I finally got the damned note written and I finally got it taped to the door and got my key and went to my (very nice) solo room, it dawned on me that this would have been a WHOLE LOT EASIER and I wouldn’t have had to write RENQUIST so many damned times if I had just explained to them that I was their new Prime Minister. I’d bet that they had someone to do that sort of thing for you, if you were the Prime Minister.
Whereupon, of course, I woke up.
Now, I tell you all of this not to prove I’m crazy (because seriously, I know that if I put a poll up here right now with “BATSHIT SOUTHERN FRIED CRAZY” vs. “A little eccentric, maybe, but mostly normal,” there is no freaking way “mostly normal” would get a vote). However, I do put this up here to talk about a point, and that is, your subconscious and how it will solve problems for you. Not just writing problems, but all sorts of things.
As I was falling asleep for my nap, I wondered, “What am I going to blog about?” Earlier today, I was telling someone about a Canadian author I admired and then, as it was time to nap, my room was a little on the hot side from the evening sun, so apparently, my subconscious said, “Well, let’s go to Canada,” and then proceeded to provide an excuse to do so. It’s a crazy excuse, but it was trying. (I am giving it bonus points for coming up with the hockey player, because that was kinda interesting, but I am subtracting said points for not showing me exactly what the hockey player looked like.) (I don’t know why a hockey player. I never watch hockey.)
I love this aspect of writing: problem solving. Paint myself into a corner with obstacles and conflict for the main characters and then see where my crazy subconscious will help me take them to solve their issues. The solution, of course, needs to create more tension, get the characters into deeper trouble, raise the stakes throughout the story, so it’s not like there can be a simple, easy solution. If it’s simple and easy and obvious? The problem wasn’t difficult enough for the protagonists to solve, and if the problem isn’t difficult enough, then there’s no tension.
When you’re writing, if you’re feeling blah about some section, or you’re not quite sure what to do next (because everything feels stagnant), then you need to make the obstacles bigger / worse. Raise the stakes. Ask yourself, “What’s the worst thing that could happen right now?” And the worst thing may not be physical, it may not be a big action sequence–it may be something quiet, like a betrayal by a loved one. It may be something small, like the loss of a memento that had a lot of sentimental value, an item which cannot be replaced. The quest is, find the obstacle that’s going to raise the stakes and keep within the thematic arc of your story.
Then: daydream / dream / nap. Ask your subconscious for suggestions.
I recommend this because while it’s possible to create an obstacle and then come up with the needed solution, sometimes the “waking” or “deliberate” solution isn’t always the most creative. Sometimes we get into the habit of going with our first or second solution, when the fifth or tenth one would be way more creative, surprising and yet organic, and, therefore, interesting. Compelling to the reader. But we can’t get to the fifth or the tenth if we go ahead and stick with the first answer. Now, the first one may be the best, but don’t assume–dream a little on it, give yourself some other options, let your subconscious run free and come up with the crazy-assed ideas… uncensored… and then pick from there.
“Uncensored” being the key, here.
People are often afraid they’re going to embarrass themselves, especially in public, and so they hold back. They’re careful. They’re aware of their image. This is natural, and on most levels, there’s nothing wrong with it. But in any creative endeavor, it’s the kiss of death, the breath of mundane, and we’ve got to push harder by giving ourselves the freedom to dance a little crazy, dream a little nutty. Sing badly, if need be, but by God, sing. Try, stretch, reach for the unique. We give ourselves creative freedom if we say, “You know what? I’m not going to worry what people think about me, I’m going to do it anyway.”
And hey. If I can write about dreaming about being the Canadian Prime Minister with a hockey player in her hotel suite, I’m pretty sure that I’ve got “crazy” covered, so you’re officially safe now.
So tell me, what kinds of crazy dreams have you had lately? OR, if you’d rather not mention those, what has your subconscious helped you solve recently?
© 2009, Toni McGee Causey. All rights reserved.
Toni McGee Causey lives in Baton Rouge, LA, and is the best-selling author of the BOBBIE FAYE trilogy. She has contributed a critically acclaimed short story to the KILLER YEAR: STORIES TO DIE FOR anthology edited by Lee Child and an essay in DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT MEANS TO MISS NEW ORLEANS. Additionally, she recently produced an indie film, LA 308. She and her husband, Carl, are licensed general contractors and, in order to support her writing addiction, they run their own company, specializing in civil construction.
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Look at it this way, if you had actually met Renquist and he was a totally hot hockey player, he probably wouldn’t have had any teeth.
by Margaret A. Golla May 14th, 2009 at 4:59 amThe last time I had one of ‘those’ dreams I ran downstairs (at about 3:30) to type my thoughts into the computer. When I read it the next day, I wondered what the hell my hubster had put in my dessert. It read like I was on some sort of crack high.
Traffic-induced daydreams work better for me.
LOL… yep, you’re probably right. No teeth, permanent concussion.
My husband and I cracked up over the dream. And I thought, if nothing else, I’d give y’all a chuckle today.
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 5:26 amLast night was pretty bizarre. I dreamt that my dad hired a Hummer limo for the last day of school (and I don’t know if this was supposed to be H.S. or college because in the dream I am my current age of 29), and me and a lot of people from high school who I wasn’t actually friends with. The limo then proceeded to drive us to the Kansas City Airport (which wasn’t REALLY KCI but more like Amsterdam) where we hung out in the airport mall until our flight to Memphis. Apparently there was a cooking competition too because hubby said I told him “I didn’t win the garlic bread,” when he woke me up this morning.
by Kait Nolan May 14th, 2009 at 6:50 amHa! Too funny (with the garlic bread). I hate it when I wake up talking and then can’t remember the details of the dream! Thanks for posting this–at least I’m not the only crazy one here.
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 7:57 amYou are in good company. That was one of my SANER dreams…
by Kait Nolan May 14th, 2009 at 8:29 amToni – I have been know to talk in my sleep, both in/about dreams and to those around me. Even recall one time where I had a complete conversation with a college roommate, when she referenced the conversation the next day I had no memory of it.
by Tiffany May 14th, 2009 at 9:40 amI had one of those crazy dreams last night; now if I could just remember it!
by Tiffany May 14th, 2009 at 7:02 amMost dreams don’t help me solve problems because I have an issue remembering them the moment they end. Daydreams on the other hand are most helpful, especially the ones when I am running. Yeah, I daydream while running, it takes my mind off the fact that I am running!
Tiffany, I know what you mean–I do the directed daydreaming, too. Especially while on the treadmill. [I have to force myself not to do this while I'm driving. It is too easy to zone out and into my fictional world!]
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 7:59 amI have trouble with sleeping too. I think you need to go to bed later since your body isn’t used to going to bed so early. I would go to bed at 12 if I were you and that way you can sleep to at least 6 or 7 am, a normal hour instead of 3 am. Whenever I go to bed too early it happens to me too. I’ve been taking Advil PM for the last two nights to get back on schedule and I sleep so well with it! It’s really good stuff. I know I can’t take it that often though. I dont think I really dream much or I just can’t remember it.
by RachaelfromNJ May 14th, 2009 at 8:35 amYeah, I’ll probably back it up to 12 just for my sanity, because a few more 3 a.m. mornings is going to make me officially nuts.
Although I have gotten a metric buttload of stuff done.
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 12:09 pmAddressing the tension for characters (I never remember dreams, sadly), which is something I noticed recently about Janet Evanovich’s novel, Grand Finale. She says it was her first, and it’s the last in that series to be re-released. I’m sure the reason is that it has almost no tension or challenges for the characters. I could see a very clear difference between this book and all her subsequent books, just in this one aspect. And consequently, it was pretty dull, in comparison to her usual work, although her story and characters were still charming.
Love the Tide pen detail, Toni! That is a hoot.
by Karen in Ohio May 14th, 2009 at 8:47 amYeah, the Tide detail sort of cracked me up. I have no clue where that one came from. (Though I had a Tide pen in my purse for a while, but it dried up. I’ll bet–because I was at a restaurant–I saw something on someone’s shirt.)
I know, weird brain.
Very interesting about Janet E’s first book. I think that’s sort of typical as we’re learning to write–either we make it to easy, or we go to extremes to make it super hard and impossibly convoluted. (I may or may not be referring to a sistah MSWer here.)
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 12:12 pmTrust me. You do not want to hear me sing. It’s worse than bad. Plants shrivel up and die.
by Karin Tabke May 14th, 2009 at 10:31 amhmmmm. Note to self: buy Karin wine @ national, get her into a karaoke bar…
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 12:13 pmnevah!
by Karin Tabke May 14th, 2009 at 12:26 pmOH yeah, lady. Definitely karaoke at RWA! Toni, I’ll split the tab with you!
by Silver James May 14th, 2009 at 3:23 pmWhat a wonderfully funny dream! I usually have very vivid, colorful dreams. For some reason, I remember nothing from last night. I blame it on all the caffeine I drank yesterday.
But thanks for sharing yours. I enjoyed the laugh
by ArkansasCyndi May 14th, 2009 at 11:55 amThanks, Cyndi. I used to have a lot more crazy dreams… then they’ll go through a mundane period. I’m working on something new, so I think my subconscious is in overdrive.
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 12:14 pmHey Toni, I read your post and just flat out forgot to comment. I do that kind of thing alot because my brain is already on the next thing.
Your dream cracked me up! I do think your subconscious short changed you on not showing you the hockey players though.
Inosmnia sucks, that’s all I can say. But I find the less I think and worry about it, the better off I am. I live my life and ignore it as much as possible. I don’t get up and work because I’d be wide awake fro hours. But it’s a good time for me to read.
Do we call you Madam Prime Minister?
by Jen Lyon May 14th, 2009 at 12:56 pmHeh. Can you imagine how traumatized the Canadians would be if I were their Prime Minister? I’m not sure their health care could cover all of the PTSD that would cause.
(ditto on the shortchanging)
by toni mcgee causey May 14th, 2009 at 1:30 pmI found this article on MSN about daydreaming.
So now when I am running and daydreaming, I know I am working out both mind and body.
by Tiffany May 14th, 2009 at 1:17 pmExcellent article, Tiffany! Thanks.
by toni mcgee causey May 14th, 2009 at 1:31 pmSeveral nights ago I dreamt I was dating Mel Gibson. This came as a surprise to me for a number of reasons. One, I no longer think Mel Gibson is cute. Two, in the dream I kept arguing with Mel that I must be dreaming.
Mel “NO. We are really dating.”
Pam: But you’re married and I don’t date married men.
Mel: I’m getting a divorce.
Pam: I’m dreaming.
Mel: No you’re not. Now get ready for the premiere.
Pam: Aren’t you dating some Russian chick?
Mel: No. I’m dating you.
Pam: You know, your movies have been getting increasingly more violent and I’m disturbed by what I perceive to be a problem with Anti-Semitism, Mel, Darling. I think I’m dreaming.
Mel: (Heavy sigh.) We’re dating.
At which point I wake up. Where did this come from? His new girlfriend has hair similar to mine. That’s all I can figure out.
So, Toni, maybe when you’re through being the Prime Minister of Canada and hanging out with young hockey boys, you too could dream date Mel Gibson.
by Pamela DuMond May 14th, 2009 at 2:26 pmPam, that cracks me up.
(Although I think that qualifies as a bona-fide nightmare–dating a married man who was also dating a Russian.) [wait... there's a movie in there somewhere...]
by toni mcgee causey May 14th, 2009 at 2:34 pmToni:
Something like a chick version of the Bourne Identity and Fatal Attraction.
by Pamela DuMond May 14th, 2009 at 2:37 pmWhy are my dreams never that funny? Where’s the Sandman? He and I are gonna have a come-to-Jesus meetin’ right now!
Toni, you crack me up, woman! I just want to sit in the corner and listen to you tell stories!
by Silver James May 14th, 2009 at 3:26 pmThanks, Silver. You’ll have to remind me to tell the “pig” story at national. It’s one that has to be told (rather than read).
by Toni McGee Causey May 14th, 2009 at 3:28 pm*makes a sticky note to remember* You’re on! And we definitely have to get Karin gettin’ down with the karaoke.
by Silver James May 14th, 2009 at 3:51 pmI want to hear the pig story too!
by Debra Webb May 15th, 2009 at 6:21 amI’ve always rearranged places in my dreams. I’ve got this whole other alternate Las Vegas that I go back to from time to time, and there are two or three alternate Los Angeles’ (or parts thereof, at least that’s where I think they are) that I also go back to visit in dreams from time to time. And my dreams inserted a whole other street between two existing streets in the small town where I used to live, where all the good shops were, because there weren’t any good shops in the real-life version of the town.
I also rearranged the town I grew up in, in my dreams, starting when I was pretty young. And the weird thing about that is that in the past few years, that town has sprouted very much the same additions as those in my dreams from long ago.
And malls. I invent malls in my sleep, which is really strange because I don’t like malls. There are three or four of those in my back-catalog, and I revisit those in dreams from time to time, as well.
But none of these various re-visits are recurring dreams, as a rule. Instead different things happen, but in the same locations that I’ve dreamed about before.
I also tend to have dreams that have better special effects than any science fiction or fantasy movie. And I often have dreams that I’m taking an airplane trip, but the planes don’t fly. They just drive along the roads instead. On the other hand, I sometimes have dreams in which I can fly…all by myself, without a plane.
Yeah, I have some weird dreams.
by Elaine May 16th, 2009 at 9:34 am