Some things don't change

During the big cleaning/reorganizing project of last weekend, I came upon a stack of writing notebooks from some college classes. As I paged through one of them, the first for an advanced writing class my final semester, it was interesting to read my thoughts and work from over a decade ago. What was especially interesting was an entry dated 17 February 1992. I think it comes under the heading, “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” It was written during an in-class free write.



Another free write. Yay. I’m thrilled. Nothing much on my mind today except this short story we’re supposed to write. We were to come in today with a scene or setting or something for our first story. I have fashioned mine – or attempted to, at any rate – after a dream I had this weekend. I’m having trouble finding the right words and getting down on paper what I want to say. In the dream there was this man who kept terrorizing me. A sort of Robert DeNiro type in Cape Fear. A real psycho. He played mostly on my mind. I’m also worried about keeping it short as it could conceivably turn into a full-length novel. I need to do one scene – one chapter from this book. Frightening concept. Especially for me. I want to be a writer, yet have a fear of writing. Does that make sense? I am sure that it sounds rather strange. It does to me. I guess it’s not writing itself that I am afraid of, but of not being able to write well, of not being able to convey to the reader what I want to say or the emotions of a scene. Does that make sense now?



I don’t recall the exact dream I had, there’s only a vague recollection of it, though I’m sure I wrote it down in my private journal (separate from the writing journal we were required to keep for class). What I remember most about it is that the story I eventually wrote had metamorphosed so much during the different drafts that the end product no longer resembled the dream in any way.

I think sometimes a good idea has to evolve in this manner in order to become a GREAT idea. I think it’s also important to realize that our dreams – nocturnal or diurnal – can be a springboard for a story, we just need to let it grow into it’s own entity, without holding it back from a direction we don’t think we want to go. It’s too easy to restrict our words and our work, and we need to be bold, daring, and follow where it leads.

Yes, I know – as my words from 1992 will attest, it’s easier said than done. For me, that hasn’t really changed. It’s not so much that I doubt myself or my own abilities, but more a disbelief that anyone would want to read what I write, or find it remotely interesting—and maybe also fear of success. With success comes an entirely new set of fears, insecurities and stressors. Definitely a scary road to ponder, and sometimes I wonder if publication is truly my dream…or the dream others have for me.