Dreamweaver

Greetings faithful followers! (You guys seriously need a nickname. Suggestions?) I come to you this morning having gone through a night without any sleep whatsoever, followed by a night of broken sleep. With any luck, this blog will make sense and not just be an array of disconnected, rambling thoughts.

Let's talk about dreams. There are dreams we have of how we want our lives to be, dreams of our future, our children's futures. There are dreams we have that are more existentially encompassing, peace, love, hope. There are actual dreams, those captivating, odd, hopeful, scary, and sometimes sexual scenes that take over our brains while we sleep. (Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in a bad production of Les Mis?) We have so many different ways that we dream and our dreams are important to our health and well-being.

In college I took a psychology course that I absolutely loved. One of our assignments was to write a massive paper about the meaning of dreams. I may well have been the only person in my class that didn't groan in displeasure when given this task. I loved researching and writing this particular paper. Discovering the science in how our brains work, processing the millions of thoughts and images that we encounter on a daily basis, was intriguing. The way we take what we remember from those dreams, and the subsequent interpretations of those dreams, was fascinating. (By the way, I got a 99 on the paper.)

Sometimes we remember our dreams in colorful detail from beginning to end. Sometimes we only remember bits and pieces, fragmented images that don't seem to have any cohesion. And, of course, there are dreams that we don't remember at all.

I used to dream in full, vivid detail all the time! I would wake up and go through the dream step by step, piece by piece. I could give you clear and distinct descriptions of scenes and what I felt, what I thought. It is from these dreams that I began writing some of my most erotic stories.

Wouldn't you know that when I finally decide to take the leap and turn these stories into books, I stop remembering my dreams? I'm perplexed. How exactly did I go from one extreme to another? Of course, it has been pointed out to me that you actually have to sleep to have those dreams, and it seems a full night of sleep has been at least temporarily removed from my cards. Bummer.

So as I suffer through my insomnia I find myself having to rely fully on my exceptionally dramatic, highly over-active, and extraordinarily sexual imagination. This could be good. This could be bad. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.

In the meantime, please feel free to share your dreams with me. Maybe you will spark something in my imagination. Maybe, just maybe, you'll end up in my next book.

As always...

Much love from me to you!

Shelly (a/k/a Dawn Love)