I have written before about how Arthur's Story: A Love Story came to me in a series of dreams. I have no idea where those dreams came from but I still remember them and writing that story was a pure joy. Lately I have been dreaming again and last night's dream was particularly vivid. I'm writing because I'm still trying to catch it and hold on to it.
There is a very special, brilliant luminous quality to these dreams. This one started out on Thacher Island, a place I have been to and spent a lot of time exploring. The two stone lighthouses are very eocative for me—in fact they are the wallpaper for this blog. Last night I was walking along the stony cliff at the back of the island and was very aware of these huge stone towers looming over me. The sky was very blue and the wild beach roses and grass rustled in a breeze that blew in creating whitecaps on the ocean.
At first I did not know what I was doing there but it had something to do with finding a group of women. At first I thought they were princesses but then realized, no, they were beautiful and seductive but more the lorelei than princesses. I had to find them but then the story changed.
I met a man. He was young and strangely beautiful and he told me that he lived in the keeper's house. He said that the town could no longer afford to take care of the island and so they sold it and he was hired by the new owners to live there and care for it. He did not want to be there alone and so he was walking the cliffs every day waiting for the young woman they were going to send him. He was worried something would happen to her.
There is a lot of story potential in this and I wanted to write it down for two reasons—so I would remember it, and also to illustrate the mysterious nature of the subconscious. I have three stories in various stages of development right now. The Crazy Old Lady's Secret just got good marks from a beta reader and is now off to another reader. I am finishing up a new Marienstadt story called Candy Dippold and the Mail Pouch Barn. I have done a fair amount of work on a new Halcyon Beach Chronicle, Ghost of A Dancer By Moonlight, and have roughed out the beginning of another Pitts Crossing Tale, currently called The Tuesday Night Baking and Assassins Guild. I have plenty of writing to do—including rough drafts for at least four more Marienstadt stories.
I have no idea where last night's dream came from but I have a feeling it will haunt me for a long time—and maybe insist I write about it.
Thanks for reading.