Day 6: Dream a little dream...

I've written two dream sequences today, and it's taken 2101 words. They are dreams that I've had personally, but I've exaggerated them a little, and tweaked it so that it's not exactly like my dreams (nothing like getting too personally invested in a novel, right?). I know that there's another dream or three to add to the story, but I'm sure that it'll be revealed to me when I need to write it.

The beauty of writing dream sequences is that it doesn't have to make sense, but it does have to flow. It's a challenge to conventional writing. Conventional writing tends to be rigid, full of rules and regulations, similar to a still life painting. But with these dream sequences the conventional rules must be broken, similar to Dali's artwork.

I guess the only way to really describe it is to add a sample here from the very rough draft (please note, it has not been edited and I won't be going over it until AFTER I finish NaNoWriMo).

Paper scrapes across her path. The pavement glistens under the street light. Two nights: one above, one beneath.

There is a boarded up gate ahead with shredded remains of posters fluttering: some popstar that used to be famous headlining a main arena. Towering above is a rusty ferris wheel, no lights, no music. A crack of thunder throws her off-guard. She steps towards one of the boards, reaches her hand out and pushes it to one side.

It ripples like a curtain, and the twinkle of lights from the other side intertwines in a dance with the sounds of children laughing and Greensleeves playing in the background.
©Dreamwalker, Cynthia Cano, Nov 2010

It doesn't make sense, but it doesn't explain itself either. There are no apologies in writing a dream sequence. That's the beauty of it. It just is.