Almost everyone
has dreams, at least occasionally, that they can remember vividly when they
wake up. Writers have those kinds, but also aspirations, grand dreams. I got
possessed by one of the former, which became one of the latter, and now, 50-odd
years and 125,000 words later, it's an integral part of me.
The dream was
what I call a “story dream,” one in which I am not really a part but more like
watching a movie. Several of those have become, in whole or in part, short
stories. I find them interesting but not disturbing.
This particular
dream, sometime in the late 1950s, was a sci-fi story in which some distant
civilization had developed a genetic weakness which prevented women from
having a second child and many of them did not survive a first birth, if they
could conceive at all. The solution, according to one faction in that place,
was to find compatible women in other star systems, since their traders had often
seen such people. Rather than negotiate, they kidnapped. One of those stolen
women was an earth girl named Janice.
Great story, I
thought, although I had never written fantasy. But five or six pages into it I
got stuck. It didn’t work. I still liked the idea and I put it away. Over the
next ten years I came across it occasionally, reworked the beginning, but never
got past the block. Then I had one of those 2 a.m. revelations we all get: just
change the point of view, stupid. Two months later
I had a novel and thought I was at last free of that civilization, that strange
culture, that clash of religions, and I could go back to writing what I was
really interested in: contemporary dysfunctional family problems.
Not at all. At
the end of the book I called “The Sol Girl,” two minor characters were
introduced. They grabbed me. Totally seduced me. “The Sol Girl” is in the
middle of that larger story – that of another kind of involved dysfunctional
family, and over the next 20 years, whenever a new chapter came along, I wrote
both ways, back to the birth of the central character (the result of an incestuous
rape) and forward to the resolution of that culture’s problems, or at least
some of them. Along the way are several romances, disowned children, a civil
war, and advances in medicine and technology we can only dream about.
When I had at
last finished it – I had thought that several times over the years – I put it
all away again still not really wanting to deal with it. A few years ago,
I decided all my stories should be on CDs. That meant retyping it, which meant,
of course, extensive editing, which is what we writers do. I tightened parts,
expanded parts, eliminated parts which obviously didn’t fit, and fell in love
with it all over again. But, still, I put it away.
Last year my
daughter read it for the first time. Really read it, she said, sat down and
read it through, Why, she asked, hasn’t this been published?
So that’s where
I am. It is under consideration by a publisher of sci-fi, and I have my fingers
crossed.
The point of all
this is, don’t give up on a story if it grabs you, even if you don’t want to
follow it wherever it seems to be going. There is something there that resonates
with your inner being. “The House of
Olin” may never be in book stores, but it has been a grand journey, one on
which I learned a lot.
Thank you for joining us Jessie and sharing your "dream" with us. It sounds like a fascinating story. Hopefully, that publisher you mentioned will make you an offer.
Jessie's books are available on Amazon. You can learn more about Jessie at her Soul Mate Publishing Author page.
https://smpauthors.wordpress.com/meet-jessie-salisbury
Oh, I hope this finds a publisher, Jessie! It's a fascinating story.
ReplyDeleteI love Jessie's account of how a long-ago dream gradually found its way onto the page. A great example of a writer's mind at work, consciously or otherwise. It gives me hope that, while I'm working to round out a trilogy of mysteries, the historical novel that has haunted my imagination for years will someday find its way toward a completed manuscript. Best of Luck on publication, Jessie, and thanks, Carly, for helping Jessie share the experience.
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