I write to keep me sane. I write so that my words may outlive my life. I write to find redemption

Friday, March 11, 2005

Dreaming about Writing

When I was ten years old I discovered I was a writer. I say I was a writer, not that I wanted to be a writer, because I feel I was a writer from the moment I was born and just stumbled upon the fact at ten years old.
I wrote a short story for a school assingment and I just knew. Yes, this was what I was meant to do. So I did. I wrote on and off for years.
As I mentioned before in 2001 I was working on my current WIP, a novel called Come Back to Me. But I hit a brick wall with it, life got in the way and I didn't write much at all for the last four years.
Then one night in early 2005 I happen to go to one of my links in my favorites, I had joined years early and posted for a while on the Learn To Write Board. Reading through the messages again I was inspired to pull out my old Works - in- progress and get back to what I love.
Now I am so engrossed in writing again I am dreaming about it at night. Last night I dreamt I became a published author and everywhere I went people were begging me to read thier unpublished manuscripts. I was beating them off with a stick practically. I ran home and thought I was safe. Then I got a phone call. It was my aunt. She said she wanted to read me her unpublished manuscript. She started reading but I couldn't hear a word she was saying, it sounded like she was a millon miles away. I kept saying "I can't hear you!" and she kept starting over. What I could hear was awful and I didn't know how to tell her that. I was panicked. I asked her to mail it to me and slammed down the phone. The strangest thing is that in real life my aunt has never once said she wants to write a novel. I guess my dream was born out of all the stuff I am reading on the internet about the journey writers go on from being unpublished to published.


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