by Sarah Brandel

We are the music makers
and we are the dreamers of the dreams
- from “Ode,” Arthur O’Shaughnessy

Ever wake up from a dream and think, “Oh, man, that dream would make a great story!”

Ever try explaining said dream to someone else and get only blank looks and the occasional “Huh?”

Turning a dream into a story can be similar to having a funny thing happen to you and your friends and then writing about it. If you’re not naturally hilarious, explaining the dream and explaining the event can both eventually leave you muttering, “You had to be there.” Much like real life, dreams don’t adhere to the rules of plot, setting, and characterization.

Dreams have a personal, internal logic all their own. Connections are made effortlessly in ways that make sense within the dream’s logic, or make sense because of the way you see the world.

How can you use your dreams in fiction?
Many people keep dream journals in order to preserve the story fragments–characters, plots, settings–that come in dreams. The prevailing wisdom says to write your dreams down as soon as you’re awake enough to hold a pen (and write legibly). The more often you do this, the easier it becomes to remember details from the dreams.

If you’re trying to turn a dream directly into a story or novel, subject your dreams to the same interrogation you would use for story ideas. The dream may not hold up, but nobody said the story had to match your dream exactly. For example:

I once dreamed about finding a little girl at a railroad station. She asked me to help her get home. As our train pulled out of the station, I looked out the window and saw another little girl standing on the platform. I immediately knew this was the first girl’s twin, and that she was a ghost. I brought the little girl to her home, which turned out to be a giant old house with a cathedral-like entryway. As I entered, I accidentally stepped on a spot of dried blood on the stone floor. Almost immediately, I heard the crying of a baby. The little girl explained that I’d awakened one of the house’s ghosts… About then, I woke up.

I spent a while trying to turn this dream into a novel, to the point where I’m a little shaky on remembering what was the dream and what was the novel. But here are the types of questions I asked myself as I worked to figure out the basic premise for the story.

1. Who am I? While you may feel it’s natural for you to be in the situation in your dream, it may not be natural for the main character(s) of the story. Why are they in the situation? Who are they? (And all the characterization questions that question implies.) I decided my main character was a reporter traveling to an out-of-the-way town in order to do a story she wasn’t excited about, and that the opportunity to help a little lost girl was much more appealing than her assignment. Later, she gets more of a story than she bargained for.

2. Who are the other people in the dream? Are there any characters who might be important who weren’t in the dream? I don’t remember if the little girl’s father was in the dream originally or not, but I brought him in at the next train station, where the main character disembarks with the little girl. He’s at the station because the house they’re renting has no telephone. The main character catches him in the middle of an argument with someone over the phone. But when he sees his daughter is there, he hangs up the phone and thanks the main character for finding the girl, then invites her to come to their house. Another main character is the owner of the house, who has stayed away for many years because of something that happened there when he was younger.

3. Where does the story take place? In the dream, the house fascinated me even more than the mystery of what happened to the little girl’s twin. So I spent a lot of time thinking about the house’s layout and its history. The little girl’s father was there researching the house’s history, a subject the main character also finds fascinating, especially once she hears about the hauntings. But the father isn’t just there for the history or the ghosts. He has also uncovered an old riddle that supposedly leads to buried treasure on the property, if only he can decode it.

4. What’s the backstory? I spent a lot more time working on the backstory of the house than thinking about the characters’ pasts. This showed: the house was three-dimensional, while the characters were cardboard cut-outs. More work was definitely needed.

5. What (else) happens in the story/novel? The dream only provided the beginning of the novel. I needed to fill in what came next. I got to the point where the house’s original owner comes to the house…and then stopped.

Here is a question I didn’t ask, though I should have: How does this story end? Having a target to aim for would have helped immensely.

Dream Journals
Read all about keeping a dream journal here. You can find more information by searching for “keeping a dream journal” on the Web.

Dream journals don’t need to be fancy. Even a pad of paper or a spiral notebook will do. Much like regular journaling (or writing down the random ideas you get throughout the day), dream journaling will help you hold onto those ideas you have when you’re asleep. Even if the dream doesn’t write the story for you, it’s a first step.

Wonder what your dreams say about you or might be trying to say to you? There are numerous dream interpretation sites out there on the Web. Give a few of them a look. They might just inspire you.

Sarah Brandel used to dream about giant robots and having her own super powers. These days she tends to dream about exotic travel and palatial houses (with occasional super powers thrown in.) Make of that what you will.

Related posts:

  1. Gord Sellar–On the Translation of Dreams
  2. A Visit from the Idea Slug
  3. Maurice Broaddus standing at the Pearly Gates