I haven’t had this dream for a while, but it’s been on my mind of late. Which dream is that?
The Monster House.
Actually, I’ve called it other things, and I’ve talked about it here and here on this blog. It’s a strange dream, and one that, when I was having it pretty often a year or so back, used to freak me out a little.
But it’s been almost a year since the last time I had the dream, and even though it isn’t haunting me these days, for some reason its comes to mind a lot over the last few days.
I don’t think it’s the dream that’s causing that; I think it’s the Muse. I think she’s starting to kick my butt a little.
I’ve been back into Echoes, getting it down with a final edit. I’m considering self publishing it, just to see if it goes a little better this time. Or . . . maybe not. Without the background of the world in which the story exists, it might not make a hell of a lot of sense to a reader.
What’s next, then?
There are ideas, lots of things in my little idea file, but I know the majority of them are going to be long stories or novels. And I don’t want to get into anything that’s going to whack me in the face when November rolls around and I need to get into the NaNo Insanity.
Does this daydreaming about a dream I haven’t had in over a year mean I’ve got another idea that wants to emerge? Is this an idea that could end up being a novella? I mean, cranking off twenty-five thousand words in a few weeks wouldn’t be that big of a deal. If I know what I’m writing–
Therein lay the problem. While I have had the strangest feelings from this dream, I don’t know what it’s telling me. Other than, “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” Which I have been whenever I’d had the dream. Beyond that, however, I know not what is happening.
I feel there’s a story there–one that wants to speak to others. The thoughts I’ve had are nudging me a little, forcing me to look at it in a more critical light. To examine what’s happening to the person in the dream, because . . .
What? What are thou telling me, oh Muse? What is it you want me to see?
I know what she wants me to see: she wants to see my ideas come to fruition. She wants me to get back into some original writing, and stop being a sad little penmonkey. It is only through writing that we are able to unleash our imagination, and once unleashed, that imagination is going to curl up inside a story like a sleepy cat with a belly full of chicken and milk. And once it’s curled up inside that story, it’s going to purr its content little head off–
With said purr being heard and felt by others.
That’s where the Monster House is headed. Or the “Big House”, as I once called it. Either way–
I think I’m on a trip to find out where it really leads.