Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I don’t know about other writers, but I’m writing intense action scenes, I become very agitated, moving around a great deal. As tension boils up, I experience an urge to leap up and stride around.
LOL, it increases the difficulty in writing action scenes.
A weird but short one. This dream came after a series of others, and is the sharpest remembered of the bunch.
I was outside, standing in sunshine on a sharp, richly green cliff with a strong wind buffeting me. Two people were climbing down below me. I couldn’t see much of them for heavy foliage, but the top person had my diamond. The cut and polished diamond was huge, and this person was stealing it. I knew this; while I couldn’t see much of the person, I could see them holding the diamond aloft as they descended.
I couldn’t let them get away! Looking around, I discovered a heavy monofilament fishing line. A little investigation revealed that it was attached to my diamond. Tugging the line, I pulled the diamond free and began drawing it back up to me.
The dream ended.
Told you it was weird.
My first thought was, no, not another dream of being back in the military.
Didn’t start out like that. First, I was simply running along a dirt road. Ahead was my cousin. He’s taller than me but the same age. Seeing him, I pumped up my speed until I caught him. When I did, I realized that I was wearing shorts and a shirt but I was carrying my pants, and I was bare foot. That made me laugh. I told my cousin, “I think I need to put my pants on.” I stopped and put them on.
Then, there I was in my old camouflage battle dress uniform, heading to work. Another new assignment awaited me in the dream. I looked forward to it and was encountering people along the way, happy to see me there and wishing me luck. It was snowing, and the snow began piling up fast, encouraging me to tell others, “The snow is coming down fast. I better go now.”
I rushed through the snow but the going was increasingly difficult as the snow level climbed over my thighs, to my waist. Brilliant white, the snow was beautiful, though cold. Then I was in, at work, meeting my new team, eager to begin work. I was already seeing things that needed to be changed and started directing action, confident in what I was doing.
Many recent dreams have been like movies or television shows. Often feeling they’re part of a larger series, I often don’t see myself in them. Instead, I’m a viewer.
So last night’s dream was a break from that routine. My and my jet were the primary leads.
Living in a huge, hyper-modern city, I became aware that it was going to be attacked. Warnings were going out. In response, me and another person climbed into our jet-aircraft. In design, they seem like single-seat twin-engine F-15 Eagles, but flatter and smaller, and dark, dark blue in color. Blue dominated the dream. Except for the jets’ exhaust flames, which were blue with yellow, and the final celebration rockets, everything was blue.
Incoming aircraft were reported. We scrambled, lighting a darkening dusk sky with our twin after-burners. I was lead. My wing-man was immediately attacked. Unable to lose his attacker, I stalked the aircraft, causing them to break off their attack on my guy. Flashing around the city’s sky, the other tried and failed to lose me. My aircraft was incredibly responsive, and I displayed a staggering mastery of its capabilities, so much , that in the dream, I thought, the aircraft and I are one.
Finally lining up a shot, I fired a missile at the attacker. It struck his aircraft, causing it to begin breaking up, giving him time to eject.
Afterward, I took my aircraft high over the city and throttled back. My companion joined me. The air was clear. It was night. It felt like we were on the edge of space.
Other aircraft were inbound to attack. He and I went at them. Multiple intense aerial combat scenes followed. Most vividly remembered is a scene where I was being chased. I took my aircraft down along the frozen blue river that bisected the city. My aircraft flashed under blue bridges at hyper-sonic speed. Unwilling to follow me there, the enemy broke off and climbed. Standing my aircraft up on its tail, I climbed up after him, and took him out.
That’s what was interesting about the dream. I was often in my cockpit as me. But other times, I could see myself in the cockpit, or I was watching the action from a third person POV. Whichever happened, I always knew it was me.
After we’d thwarted the attack, I radioed back to the command center to inform them that the city was safe once again. Feeling so brave and pleased with the result, I took my aircraft on a high-speed acrobatic flight over the city, and then, in a surprising twist, fired off colorful sky rockets to celebrate.
It was a damn good feeling.
I had no trouble relating this dream to my life, especially my writing and publishing efforts. My moods travel through a monthly cycle. I’m trending up this week. That translates to being incredibly optimistic and hopeful, truly on top of the world, ma. The dream reflects those emotions, taking off flying, being in control, and winning.
My last writing effort, Four on Kyrios, is out to several agents, awaiting their response. Meanwhile, the newest novel, April Showers 1921, is being dictated at breath-taking speed. I’m struggling to keep up with it. Its pace has startled me, and it’s twists and turns surprise me.
All of that fits with the dream. Even the dream’s blue coloring is cited as being optimistic by one source: “The presence of this color in your dream may symbolize your spiritual guide and your optimism of the future. You have clarity of mind. ” Of course, in their next sentence, they say, “Alternatively, the color blue may also be a metaphor for “being blue” and feeling sad.” But I like the first one better.
Time to write like crazy at least one more time.
This dream was like a Hollywood-produced thriller. I thought of the Jason Bourne series of movies, or Taken.
The dream began with a friend being abducted. I was an operative as slick as black ice. Determined to get them back, I abducted an enemy operative’s ex-girlfriend. While she insisted she had nothing to do with the other man or the abduction, I kept her away from weapons and under constant watch.
Meanwhile, with her as my negotiating leverage, after a brief shoot-out, high-speed chase on snowy, slushy roads at night, and hand-to-hand combat, I coerced the enemy operative into an alliance. With him helping me, we started the hunt for the abductors.
Fast-paced, there were setbacks and fights — all taking place on a dark, icy night — it went well overall. Just as my ragged team cornered the abductors, the police showed up. As I argued with the police about what was going on, with me holding a gun on them, and they refusing to back down, with my enemy ally in another room, and the abductors holed up in another room in the building, my hostage turned on me. She’d acquired a gun and now revealed herself as part of the abducting gang.
They’d been five steps ahead of me, orchestrating everything to put me at their mercy, it seems, so they could force me to do what they wanted. She began describing what they wanted from me —
And then a cat awoke me.
Although I tried getting back into the dream when I returned to bed, I failed, instead going into another dream.
Bummer. I wanted to know how it ended.
Funny, but in thinking about the thriller dream, no names were ever used that I can recall. So, if I wrote this, I think my working title would be No Names.
Michael Seidel, writer 