Today's blog post is about dreams and waking up.
Hahaha! I betcha thought I was going to write about how it's not a good idea to start a novel with a dream sequence or with your MC waking up.
If I'm being honest, and I am, I have to tell you that my first attempt at writing a middle grade novel began with my MC waking up to the sound of her alarm clock ringing, complete with the onomatopoeia, Rrrring! (btw, how cool is the word onomatopoeia? I love saying it but totally had to look up the spelling. Four vowels in a row? Cool! /spellingnerdtangent). I proceeded to write a backstory scene while Samantha was lying in bed thinking about it. I thought it was gold. Ugh. Bo-ring. Little did I know at the time, waking up scenes at the beginning of a story are a big no-no with agents and editors.
What this post is really about is the dream I had last night. I hardly ever remember my dreams and I've never had a dream about writing. I've never pulled a Stephenie Myer either. Right before I woke up I had a dream of walking in a bookstore. Not a ginormous bookstore like a Barnes & Noble, but instead I walked into a messy, disorganized room with books piled haphazardly on tables and chairs. As I glanced around I recognized a book cover from a friend (perhaps yours, Donna?) and thought, "How cool!" Then I turned around and there it was...
My book! With a big ol' picture of me grinning on the cover! Ha! As if that would sell a boatload of books. But in the dream I looked at it and said, "Hey, that's not so bad! Thank goodness they picked a pretty good picture of me. And my nose doesn't look like Rudolph's." How weird is that?
I stink at dream analysis, but maybe it's a good omen; a dream I hope will come true some day. But I think I'd like to keep my author pic on the inside of the cover. In the back. Hmm, maybe a black and white.