Silk & Shadows

Currently working on: Expanding a story
Mood: Widening

Last weekend, I went to the Oregon Coast with some writer friends for a beach retreat. (I accidentally typed “treat” and it WAS a treat.) Writing retreats are enormous fun, of course, but I also want the time to be productive. So here are some of my suggestions for a productive writing retreat:

Go to the beach at a yucky time of year.

At the Oregon Coast, you can be guaranteed gusting rain November through July (and prohibitive prices August through September). So usually the horizontal “moisturizing and exfoliating” is enough to keep us inside at our computers.

Here’s a picture of me, measuring how many words I have yet to add. See, this is why you go to the beach in bad weather. Sunshine DEMANDS a walk on the beach.

Bring the right friends.

It’s best to surround yourself with writers who share similar productivity goals. Friends who constantly tempt you to walk on the beach as the sun sets are counterproductive.

Sadly, it turns out I am that friend. So don’t bring me. Except you have to bring me because I always bring the mint brownies.

Find an inspiring spot.

Not only is the right physical spot important — like this lovely little beach house surrounded by chirping frogs — but the right spot in your mindset and your work in progress.

I try to prepare for a writing retreat by making sure I have the right sort of project and that I clear my “real life” of distractions that might creep into the weekend. Actually, this last weekend, I did a bad job of choosing the project. I’m working on revising, and I found that I did not do as well as when I bring a hot draft to a retreat. I’ll know that for next time.

Never mind the inspiration, just focus!

Part of my problem with choosing a revision project instead of a hot draft, is that when I’m revising, I tend to stare off into space while I think. When I’m at home, in my little office, there’s not much to look at and I quickly go back to work. But at the beach… I just stared at the waves for hours! I needed to bring my focus closer.

A good writing retreat has a clear focus, whether it’s writing, brainstorming or just refilling the well. Be sure you know what purpose your retreat will serve.

Track progress on the retreat days.

Like tracking the sun across the sky… It’s easier for me to stay accountable if I track my progress in three chunks during a retreat day: morning session, afternoon session, evening session. If I only review my progress once at the end of the day, I might find I didn’t do enough, but now it’s too late. If I track in chunks, then a slacker morning session (sun on the beach!) can be rectified in the afternoon, or a slow afternoon (afternoon nap on the sunny beach!) can be made up in the evening (no sun).

Indulge.

As much as I want a writing retreat to be productive, well, it is a retreat. I try to capture some of that glory — and some of that sun — and take it back with me to rainy Portland.

Do you have a favorite getaway that never fails to rejuvenate you? Do you bring back souvenirs? I love to find good rocks.

Currently working on: Scouring dirt from my fingernails
Mood: Soiled

The garden is finally in. Took a couple extra weekends because the ground was so wet and cold that nobody — not me, not XY, certainly not tomatoes — wanted to be in the dirt. But as of today, all the chicken poop is scattered, all the starts are started, all the stakes are stuck through the hearts of vampires are ready to bear the weight of future produce.

Which means it’s time for this spring’s edition of “All the Ways Writing is Like Gardening.”

I’ve noted before, in past editions of ATWWILG, when I read authors’ bios, a lot of them comment about their gardens. I’ve hypothesized that writing is such a head-bound pursuit, writers need an excuse to get outside and connect with life. Gardening fulfills that need to immerse ourselves in the real world — while still letting our minds wander in our storyworlds. Sneaky, I know.

1. Gardens and stories don’t look like much at the start.

As the picture above demonstrates. Baby plants and blank pages aren’t very impressive. They are vulnerable to the late-night predation of slugs and self-doubt. But they are also so fun and exciting at this point; just think what they could become! Their potential is limitless (especially in the case of cherry tomatoes) and they are still easy to weed around. But just wait for high summer when plants and pages have exponentially run amok.

2. Gardens and writing will bug you sometimes.

We do have some terrifying spiders that may or may not be black widows, brown recluses and hobo spiders, but these yellow cuties are infant common garden spiders (sometimes called diadem spiders, which sounds so pretty). In the spring, they are as numerous as the words in a very good writing session. (Although after a few weeks, they will eat each other down to just a few; much like the words after a very good revision session.)

For me, walking face-first through a spider web and getting stuck in my story engender very similar responses: lots of swatting, swearing and skin-crawling. (Ack, it’s on me, get it off, get it off!) Nothing for it but to brush away the sticky strands holding you up and continue onward.

3. Don’t forget to play.

It’s possible — likely? inevitable? — that not everything you find in the garden and in the story will be what you expected. Take, for example, the vast variety of spherical throwing objects the garden apparently sprouted over the winter. Who knew spherical throwing objects could breed and bear offspring? There’s no other explanation for why there are so many in my backyard. Digging them out of their various nooks and crannies was super entertaining. (And part of the reason I have so much dirt under my nails; Monster Girl wasn’t going to have ALL the fun…at least not when the fun came at the expense of my strawberry bed.) Take some time to enjoy the weirdness and see what might work better than what you planned.

So what’s growing in your garden — or your word garden — these days?

Currently working on: Scrubbing the toilet
Mood: Swirly blue

I’m done with UNDONE!  Book 4 of the Marked Souls — BY DARKNESS UNDONE — is in the hands a.k.a. inbox of my wonderful editor as of 5 a.m. today. Yeah, that’s the reason this blog post is late.

I am a quivering pile of goo. Too much chocolate does that to me, despite years of resistance training.

You’d think with all the excuses to eat chocolate, writing would be easy. I’m here (despite the best efforts of Book 4 characters to kill me) to say, Ha! It’s long hours (in the case of Book 4, a three-day weekend of all-nighters to put on the finishing touches) and they can be lonely hours, because despite my best efforts to get my critique partners to write the damn book for me, I’m the only one who can get those words on the page. So in the end — or should I say to The End — it’s just me and my computer.

I thought I’d share a look at my post-three-day all-nighter session that ended this morning. This is how I set up my space to provide “under the wire” support when deadlines are looming:

Since Thursday afternoon, I got up from that stupid chair only long enough to use the bathroom and walk the dog. If I could’ve convinced the dog to use the bathroom, I wouldn’t've even needed to walk the dog.

Here are the supportive elements of my creative space:

1. Coffee pot and coffee mug
I don’t drink coffee. XY will be very annoyed when he realizes where his coffee has gone. But desperate times call for coffee measures. Coffee measured by 1/4 cup-fulls with heaping spoonfuls of hot cocoa mix. The stainless steel French press holds warmth too, so when my numb fingers need a break, I can wrap them around the coffee pot.

2. Scrunchie
I’d be bald from pulling out all my hair as I scream at my recalcitrant characters, so a scrunchie is a good thing. Also, you can go two extra days without showering if you have a scrunchie. That’s, like, 25 extra writing minutes.

3. My computer
You’d think my computer would be number 1, but really caffeine and sugar and number 1. Sticky notes start to appear on my computer the longer the story goes on. The ones down the left side list the page numbers of each chapter. I keep track of that so that I have a physical representation of the book’s progression. The note on the top of the computer reads “Tell the Story.” Seems silly to think I need to be reminded of that since I’m already sitting in front of the freakin’ computer. But I do.

(Note the blank screen. Pretty much every day is a blank screen.)

4. Paper and pen
For some reason, I still keep a lot of my notes to myself on paper. Some of the important notes for Book 4 included: a list of everybody killed in Book 3; the quantum states of good and evil; and the word “orange juice.” I didn’t use orange juice in the story so I’m guessing I need to go to the grocery store.

5. Snacks and water glass
Many writing resources say we shouldn’t snack at our desks and we should replace snacking with drinking water. They are so right about drinking water. Having to pee means your kidneys are still working despite all the chocolate. Because, honestly, they must be kidding about the no-snacking thing. The near-empty container on my desk is dark chocolate mint creams. With minty snacks, you can go two extra days without brushing your teeth. That’s, like, five extra writing minutes.

6. Resource books
Despite (because of?) being a writer, I often run out of words. So I keep my dictionary, my thesaurus and a baby name book close at hand.

7. Cordless phone
Some writers just don’t answer the phone when they are hot on the tail of The End. I find I can more conveniently ignore people when I know whose call I’m not answering.

Now if I could just find someone to sit in that chair, my work here would be done…

Do you have a must-have element in your day to be productive and creative? What do you do if you can’t have it?

Currently working on: Light at the end of Book 4
Mood: Dazzled by oncoming train headlight

I’m late on this week’s post about staying motivated (Thursday instead of Monday isn’t toooo late, is it?) because a half-dozen looming deadlines motivated me to run away for a week of blissfully empty-headed camping in the high desert of Oregon.

I love camping and hiking. The simplicity and clarity of a week outdoors frees my mind. More importantly, there is no wifi cloud over Steens Mountain to distract me from vacationing.

There were, however, plenty of cloud-clouds over Steens Mountain. Notice how those clouds are dripping down the peaks toward my blissfully empty-headed self.

From the time the first drop of rain hit our peacefully sleeping, upturned faces at 10:30 pm on our first night (we normally don’t put up the tent and just toss the sleeping bags out under the stars), we knew this particular camping trip was going to require a little more from us than our usual blithe daisy-sniffing.

No, it was clear we’d have to work a little harder to stay motivated, especially once we encountered the rattlesnake:

And then more rain, then sleet, then hail and then snow:

Under such conditions, it can be hard to stay motivated. In fact, you might just want to curl up into a little ball and wait for the frost to melt:

But if you do that, you never make it out of camp. So, staying motivated — whether during mile 8 of a long hike or in the long haul of a big project (like, oh, say, Book 4…) — seems to me to call for many of the same responses:

1. Bring hot cocoa. Lots of hot cocoa.
Oh come on, you knew I was going to say that first. Little marshmallows are optional, but highly recommended.

2. Rock the proper footwear.
In the case of writing, you need thick socks and maybe slippers.  When desert hiking, solid boots (thick enough to take a rattlesnake strike, for example) are best.  When crossing semi-freezing, hail/sleet/snow-fed streams… Well, sometimes you just have to suck it up and run across in your bare feet and shriek while your nerve endings turn to popsickles. Sometimes good fortune and preparation must be replaced with dumb fortitude:

3. Have a hint of an idea where you are going.
Staying motivated is easier if you kinda know where you are going and how to get there. Having a map, a compass, and an emergency transponder beacon so the Mounties can come rescue your ass can keep your spirits up when the way gets dark.

It’s also good to stop and look up once and awhile. When you’re on the long slog, sometimes you find you’ve been staring down at your mud-covered boots for miles and have no idea where you’ve been or what’s head. Take a break, eat some chocolate (hey, why not?) and look around you.

4. Enjoy the successes.
Eventually the miles and the rains do end, and the sun comes out, and you can see what you’ve been working toward. Revel in it. Cuz you got a long walk back.

5. Dream big.
On our camping trips, we only have a week, so we make every moment count.  Not rain nor rattlesnakes can stop us. (Maybe briefly sidetrack us, but you understand.) Want it — and want it bad — and power your motivation on that desire. Feel it like the warmth of a sleeping bag as the sun goes down. Smell it like sun-heated pine trees. Taste it like hot cocoa with little marshmallows. Only you can walk the miles to where you want to be.

Currently working on: Unpacking from the Romance Writers of America 2010 national conference
Mood: Mouse earred

Last week’s RWA con was — as usual — fun and exhausting, full of shrieking and passion and laying around the Walt Disney Dolphin pool. In short, it would make an excellent reality television show, which just so happens to be this week’s topic.

Due to the crappy reception in the basement where my TV resides, I don’t get to watch many shows. (Plus, there are no Joss Whedon shows to tempt me.) But since I got to meet two of my three fellow S&S bloggers at #rwa10 (following the Twitter hash tag was like experiencing the con through dragonfly eyes — from dozens of different vantage points) I can now imagine the “characters” that would exist in a reality TV show “written” about romance writers at a conference.

The Pretty Girl
The Pretty Girl will be Kim Lenox, who I hardly got to see because she was so popular and dresses nice.

The Smart Girl
The Smart Girl will be played by Sharon Ashwood, who I passed many times in deep conversations that probably involved demons and esoterica.

The Tough Girl
Annette McCleave will be the Tough Girl, because she was the missing quadrant of S&S, and she must have a will of iron to resist the event horizon allure of 2000+ romance writers amassed in one location.

Additional characters will include:

The Wild Child
Played by Monica Kaye, who gets everybody into trouble with her tweets about the lickability of a certain well-known agent. (Those erotica writers; you can’t take them anywhere… without a ball gag.)

The Slut
Everyone group household has one, you know, so ours will be Delilah Marvelle, whose naughty historical bits are on display EVERYwhere but mostly on her blog.

The Token Male
Just as a BFK (Bailey’s, Frangelico and Kahlua mixed into hot cocoa mix or coffee) is enhanced by a shot of whipping cream, estrogen is even more fun with a side of testosterone, so we’ll bring Andrew Shaffer for walk-on/run off appearances.

And lastly, I suppose, we’ll have the Weird One. And that’d be me.

In case you doubt the potential wackiness of a reality TV show based on romance writers, check out this pic of the 500-author-strong book fair:

Oh yeah, that’s drama.  In addition to meeting up with friends and chatting with colleagues, I also scored a bunch of signed books which we’ll be parceling out through the summer, starting with Jessica Andersen‘s DEMONKEEPERS plus an ARC of her latest, BLOOD SPELLS.

Just leave a comment anytime this week and you’ll be entered for a chance to win Jessica’s books. To get the party started, which character would you like to be in any popular reality television show?

Currently working on: A dreadful synopsis
Mood: Dreading

I read a post on a writing site awhile ago wondering why so many paranormal heroes don’t have real jobs.  What?  Like saving the world doesn’t count?!  Sheesh.

When I was imagining the world of the Marked Souls, I thought about giving my immortal demon-possessed heroes day jobs.  I’ve read vampire rock stars and werewolf business men, fairy mechanics and superhero reporters; certainly there was something gainful for my heroes to do when they weren’t obliterating evil.  After all, they’d had jobs before their possession.  Ferris Archer, in SEDUCED BY SHADOWS, grew up thinking he’d be a farmer like his father before him; then the Civil War and a demon got him.  Liam Niall, in FORGED OF SHADOWS, was a blacksmith before he half starved during the Irish Potato Famine and started pounding the hell — literally — out of demons.

But the logistics of applying for employment in today’s world got a bit harried. 

For one thing, my heroes are immortal.  Which drives the Human Resources department nuts.  The immortal bit negates the demand for health insurance, but how do you set up a 401K with employer matching when the employee will be around forever?  Unless of course he’s brutally slaughtered one night during his second job which puts an unnecessary burden on his co-workers.

Speaking of second jobs, my league of talyan — warriors possessed by repentant demons — roam the streets of Chicago all night, draining the malevolent, chaotic energies from demons of the nonrepenting kind.  So they’d have to take the day shift.  But when would they sleep?  Presumably, as immortals with the strength and speed of their inner demons, they could get their jobs done and still catch a few hours of sleep, but then when would they find time for love scenes?

Nope, a real job just wasn’t working out.  They’d have to be content with battling evil and saving the world.

Secretly, I suspect the reason many paranormal romance authors don’t give their heroes real jobs is because we don’t want day jobs either.  It’s as much work for us to throw obstacles in our characters’ paths as it is for them to overcome.  It’d be a joy to stay home at my computer and confound them all day.  But until that particular dream comes true, I’ll just have to envy them their vocations.  With the exception of the brutally slaughtered part, of course.

If you were a heroine in your personal storyworld, would your day job get in the way, or would it help you preserve your cover?  Which skills would serve you in both lives?

I’ve been lucky to have traveled a few places outside of my native Canada. My dad was in the military, so we spent four years in Germany when I was a kid. That allowed me to visit the top of the Eiffel tower, sun on a beach in Spain, and ski the Swiss Alps. No kidding. Of course, I was under ten years of age at the time, so it wasn’t the experience you might think. Still, it made the notion of exotic locales attainable in my mind.

In later years, under my own steam, I watched the sunset on Waikiki Beach, traipsed the halls of Cawdor Castle, and rode a camel in the Australian Outback. Yes, there are camels in Australia. Imported, of course.

Cawdor Castle, Scotland

When it came to choosing the primary setting for my Soul Gatherer series, I ventured south, but not as far south as you might imagine. I chose San Jose, California. Why? Because I knew my heroine worked for a high tech firm and San Jose is in Silicon Valley. I also knew my villain hid in the mountains, so I wanted a town or city tucked in close to the hills—yet not too far away from the big city.

San Jose is perfect. Fairly quiet crime-wise, yet big enough to have regular city problems to disguise the activities of my nasty demons. The terrain of the nearby hills (where my Gatherers eventually set up a base) is rugged and yet charming, not unlike the warriors themselves.

Lake Almaden, San Jose, California

My hero Lachlan ventures into San Francisco a time or two, and travels down the coast to San Diego. He also visits Death in her ice cave cathedral in Antarctica. Antarctica is the perfect backdrop for Death—icy cold, ruthlessly bitter, and yet incredibly beautiful.

My daughter and I made the 21-hour journey out to Australia, because we both wanted to go and she had wanted to visit since she was the ripe old age of two. It was the trip of a lifetime. Is there one place you wish you visit but never have? Have you ever read a book that took you there?

Currently working on: Recovering from last weekend’s Emerald City Writers Conference — Jessa’s unofficial motto: Too much fun, not enough sleep
Mood: Groggy

I chose my hometown of Chicago for the world of the Marked Souls, because the city has so many facets.  Its changeable weather, its rich and poor neighborhoods, its many moods offer endless potential for any scene. 

But before I started writing, while I was still just in thinking mode about the story, I also scouted — at least in my imagination — a few other possibilities.

Well, who doesn’t think of Nawlins, Loosyana as a wonderful setting?  And never mind what kind of story it is.  The city reeks of character (character and soured alcohol, that is).  I’ve visited twice.  Once was for a Romance Writers of America conference.  Yup, 2000 romance writers loose on the streets of the French Quarter.  Sadly, a missed opportunity for the Girls Gone Wild video guys.

But the second time was a strange, surrel trip when XY and I showed up late on Christmas Eve.  We’d scored a ridiculously cheap room in the Quarter.  The city was all but empty, the streets eerily quiet.  We walked our dog down to the river.  An old homeless man stood on the bank, swaying a little.  He sang “Old Man River” and never looked at us.

But, New Orleans has been so done but so many that I couldn’t justify using it, even though I’d already half-written a tasty love scene with Cafe Du Monde’s beignets.  Powdered sugar is insufficent building material for a whole story.

I also considered the American West.  I love all those sprawling states and have traveled through swaths of them.  Desolate, wild and elemental with the best star displays in the country IMO, the deserts have graced the backdrop of many a stripped-down lawman on the trail of a heartless killer, which certainly would’ve worked for the demon-possessed warriors in my storyworld. 

But I decided I needed more cannon fodder characters to people my story, and while the scenic West abounds in dramatic colors, vast skies and dangers aplenty, the one thing it’s often missing is people.  Hard to stage a battle for souls when there aren’t souls enough to go around.

Of course, I also contemplated my current city, Portland Oregon.  A less often used setting, no doubt, with a good range of sub-settings: Mt Hood on the skyline, the beach an hour away, a pretty river through the center of the city.

But in the end, I couldn’t stage an epic battle between good and evil in a town where plaid flannel is still considered appropriate evening wear.  Obviously, purgatory has already won.

I’m happy with my final choice, but I do sometimes wonder how a different setting might have changed my story.  And whether, say, a setting in the Caribbean could’ve justified a “research trip.”  Maybe I’ll do another short story. Maybe “Demons Gone Wild” could be set in Cancun, where my moody, broody heroes get a new eyeful of wicked.

Do you think your life story would’ve been different if you’d had another setting?  Where would you stage the movie version of your new life?

Golden Heart finalist Sharon Lynn Fisher (www.sharonlynnfisher.com) writes sci-fi romance and battles writerly angst with baked goods, Irish tea, and champagne (not always in that order).

I live in Seattle. There used to be this spooky old abandoned school next to I-90 East, and every time I passed it I thought how sad it was that someday, someone was going to tear it down and build condos. Because the place just oozed personality. It looked authoritarian and cranky.

But, lo and behold, the city held onto it and transformed it into the Northwest African American Museum, and it looks pretty much the way it always has, without the boarded up windows.

I took the following photo this past spring, and over the course of this post I’ll explain how the picture – or rather the process of taking it – helped defeat a particularly nasty case of writer’s block.

Just before my birthday this year, I found out my science fiction romance manuscript, Ghost Planet, was a finalist for RWA’s Golden Heart award. Shortly before that, I had signed with an agent. Soon we’ll be submitting to editors. This is a terrific place to be.
But it’s also a hard place to be. A celebratory, hopeful sort of limbo. All your dreams tied up in a much-loved manuscript you are DYING to share with other people, if someone will pretty-please-with-sugar-on-top-and-did-I-mention-I-will-name-a-child-after-you give it a chance.

With each step in the writing and publishing process, there is waiting. And more waiting. And extra helpings of waiting. The best thing you can do to maintain your sanity is – buy whole cases of wine so you get the 10% discount. But that’s not so good in the long-term, so eventually you have to sit down in the freakin’ chair and start again.

Most people, I think, write their first manuscript(s) in a vacuum. You follow your passion and write what you feel because that’s what it takes to produce a great story. From the time you e-query your very first agent, you are no longer a virgin. Really, from the time you start reading publishing industry blogs – which is hopefully long before you e-query your first agent – you are no longer a virgin.

Your head starts getting filled up with stuff about trends and marketability and what editors are and aren’t buying and OMG DROP EVERYTHING AND WRITE STEAMPUNK NOW … And pretty soon every idea that comes to you sounds like something someone else would write. You notice your muse has started collecting moving boxes.

The thing is, you STILL have to *follow your passion and write what you feel because that’s what it takes to produce a great story*. How do you do that when your head is full of all this educational but distracting noise?

I researched writer’s block for days. (HOW did we survive before Google and Wikipedia?) I wrote 30 pages of a new story before I realized the heroine was the same person as my last heroine, with shorter hair. I stared out the window. I shed tears. I got so desperate I made myself try freewriting … and it worked.

I’m not endorsing freewriting per se (mine was peppered with four-letter words and self-abuse) – but when you’re in that cold, dark creative void, you MUST do something to get out of your normal head space. Draw sing walk travel knit dance meditate. Make cupcakes. Eat them until you’re sick. Read other people’s books.

For me, freewriting led to the vaguest spark of an idea, and an intriguing setting – a cranky old ghost of a building I’d passed a hundred times on I-90. Armed with digital camera, I set out to find my characters, and the rest of my story.

I took a zillion pictures, playing with light and angles to explore the moods of my setting. I ate catfish and cornbread in the little cafeteria. I talked to the cook about the bright, collage-style artwork hanging in the dining room. I strolled through the museum exhibit not really seeing any of it, because in my world – in the new world my brain was creating – the building was going to serve a very different purpose.

When I pulled out of the parking lot on that sunny day in April, my whole outlook had changed. Everything I encountered seemed to fuel this new spark, from the deserted chapel in the park across the road, to the random CD playing in my car. I had a vision of a man stretched across a narrow bed, out of place and time. Dying. Yet still lethally dangerous to the stranger hovering over him.

That unreliable hussy of a muse was back. (I love you, sweetheart, but you’re gonna be the death of me.)

When I was a teen, I had the opportunity to spend a week in Vail, Colorado, babysitting my cousins on a ski vacation.  It was awesome.  I’d never been downhill skiing before, and I got to take classes and accompany my aunt and uncle and the kids (who were waaaay better than me) on some of the easier runs.

If you’ve ever been skiing in Colorado, I don’t need to describe it, but for the rest of you, I will just say: Heaven. Celestial blue skies. The softest, whitest, downy snow. An intense and all-encompassing feeling of floating and joy. (When I wasn’t yard sale-ing — or we could say sailing — across half the slope.)

{This photo of a $2800/night mountain-side chalet is NOT where we stayed; but the beauty is the same, free, and everywhere.}

One night near the end of our stay, my aunt and uncle had gone for a nice dinner and the kids were asleep. I stepped out onto the balcony.  Our room faced a walkway through the pines, with the pale bulk of the mountain beyond.  It was late, but the reflection of hotel lights off the snow made the night glow.  Drifting snowflakes (like the rain in the fairy world of Summerland, I swear it only snowed at night in Vail) glimmered like falling stars in the dark.

I thought, This is where I want to be.

Fast forward, oh, about seven years. 

That last serene image of Vail had stayed with me over time and distances. I would conjure it up in my head when I was stressed about finals in college, when I was studying abroad, and at my first less than inspiring full-time job.

One day, looking through want-ads, I saw an opening at a newspaper in Vail, Colorado.  And I made my daydream a reality.

Later, I read books about manifesting your reality. I read how your brain — trapped in a cage of bone and goo — has no way to experience the “real” world except through your senses. If you can imagine something clearly enough — see it, hear it, smell it, touch it, taste it — as far as your brain is concerned, that’s reality.  Eventually, your imagination can become reality.

Run amok, this process leads to mental illness, true.  But since we’re using our powers for good…

Daydream + Action plan + Perserverance = Your shiny new reality

Daydreams without the other two elements are perfectly lovely, of course.  A few minute’s mental vacation on a snowy mountain night is entirely enough.  Not everybody wants to turn that into living in a ski bum town for two years, paying $700 a month to sleep in a heated shed (no bathroom) between two single-wide trailers for the honor of coming up with another sudden illness every time the fresh powder falls.  Sometimes even shiny new realities aren’t quite the same as the daydream.

But I think the power of a daydream to relax and revive and delight us is the knowledge that it could become so much more, given the right circumstances and impetus.

After all, writing started as a daydream for me.

My new daydreaming escape is also based on an old family vacation.  When I was young, my parents took my sister and me to St. Johns in the Virgin Islands.  (And, yes, what my sheltered suburban upbringing sadly lacked in future source material for lurid angsty tell-alls, it more than made up for in loving, generous family members who believed new experiences were more important than stuff.)  The Caribbean was, to my imagination, as epic as Vail in its own way.  I’d never been snorkeling before, but oddly, the ocean was the same color as the Colorado sky.

One evening, we walked through town on one of the islands. The sky had turned a peachy red fading to blue, the colors echoed in the hanging baskets of flowers.  The air was as perfectly warm as the water, at once decadent and pure. 

I could as easily have been a beach bum as a ski bum.  Just sayin.’

One of these days, I’ll make it back to that island, and then I’ll need a new, new daydream. But for now, I’m savoring every minute in paradise.

When you daydream, is it about old places, or places you’ve never been?