Has anyone else ever dreamed they were a Malteser?
09 July 2009
Or that they were watching slugs give birth? (and yes, I know NOW that slugs don't actually Give Birth. They Lay Eggs, and believe me if my subconscious had been aware of this fact last week it would have saved me a lot of trauma). The Malteser dream and the Slug dream are two of the more memorable examples of recent night-time vagaries of my wandering mind. Another - almost, but not quite as good as the Malteser, which was glorious in its simplicity and also because, I now realise, I have never loved myself more than as a perfectly formed piece of cheap confectionery - was the train ride from New York City to Washington DC with Barack Obama. I woke up from that one feeling quite at peace with the world.
Small wonder, as I get stuck into my third novel, that I find myself writing yet another dream sequence. All my books have them. And here's the question: should I stop myself now, or accept that my urge to write about dreams is an inevitable consequence of the fact that for me, going to sleep is just an excuse for entering a weird uncontrollable world? And is the fact that I CAN control my characters' dreams - but not my own - just a form of transferred therapy? Vent for the subconscious, attempt to make sense of real life events, literary device... For one who dreams almost every night and who always remembers her dreams the next day, I have only just now asked myself the startling question: what, exactly, are dreams for?
1 comment
Written by Sara B on 10 July 2009 at 08:56:07
No, but the malteser dream sounds great!