I dreamed last night, or rather early this morning, that my book was published. I do not know the name of the book – as is the way of dreams, the writing is sometimes not readable in the dream state; though I have read writing clearly in my dreams before – but I held it in my hand and say my name printed on the cover. I guess it is odd that I saw my name in writing, but could not read the title of the book or the names of the chapters even. Only my name was clear. Shivers up my spine, an odd sense of a future about to happen – presentiment? Premonition? Bullshit? I do not know. I only know that never before have I dreamed – shivers again, an odd sense of . . . something – of being published. Perhaps – damn, wish those shivers would stop – it is the fact that I recently made a huge decision regarding my life. Perhaps it is the fact that I have stayed so focused on the novel I have been working on since November 1, 2005. Again, I don’t know. I just know that writing is what I want to do most in this world, whether that is writing essays or fiction. I want to write. The words explode from within. I have – in the words from the musical Le Miserable – dreamed a dream. I have – fingers and a few other things crossed – dreamed the future (and I hope it is the very near future). I held the book in my hand and saw my name in print on the cover. I showed the book to my friends and family. I was published.
My Writing Process
4 years ago