Living and Dreaming

I wish I could think of something more interesting than my dreams to write about. The problem is that they do preoccupy me at the moment. Every night as I sleep, I am assailed by the strangest and most moving of experiences which stay with me when I am awake, and make me feel as though I am living in two worlds, with more than the usual people, and all at the same time.

And coincidence mounts on coincidence…for instance a friend brought a book for me to borrow ; The Hundred Secret Senses by Amy Tan, and from the first few pages it is all about a dreamer, and the pages are drenched in the detail of someone else’s dreams, yet still, even as I read, my own dreams keep intruding.

Is it, I wonder because I am not occupied with writing that I dream, or is it the dreams that stop the writing! Sunday morning, I woke from a beautiful dream. I was in a cafe in Grenoble with my French cousin, and a man I used to know came in. We had a conversation about the past and a warmth spread between the three of us. The following day, I set aside Amy Tan and her dreamer, and I picked up a book chosen for someone else for Christmas. Opened at random, and I am in the story of a woman who goes to France and is in a restaurant when an old friend appears and they begin a new warm friendship….

When the life of the day and the life of the night start to merge it seems to take away the energy to write it down. It’s as though writing it is not the point – listening to it and watching it all is the point…..for the moment at least.

My dreams,  have always been unusually strong and there was a time I believed they would help my creativity, though now I realise that at times they may have the opposite effect. The first book I ever wrote arose from a series of dreams, and it was not good at all. They are at the moment a distraction, and I am more active in my sleep and less active in my waking hours. It is possible the only way may be to try writing and gradually reclaim my mind for the day. But if the coincidences continue to mount, I will be unable to resist considering the why’s and wherefore’s all over again, and again.

A Riot of Readers and Writers

At a pre-Christmas event held in the town for Cardigan’s writers yesterday, a sizeable group gathered to share tasters of current work either in progress or newly published. Reading aloud from poetry and novels, short stories and synopses, the writers offered some splendid material. I opened the readings myself, by sharing a passage from my new novel ‘The Bardic Monk’ which is due for release in January by Llanerch Press. So much for historical fiction! Beyond that we had poetry, contemporary, observational and scathing. thanks to Jackie Biggs and Dave Urwin of the Cellar Bards. In prose we had adventures of a hybrid outsider in a science-fantasy currently doing the rounds of the publishers, The Order of Light by Euian Rogers. The travels of a celebrated grandfather who brought back one hundred animals for the London Zoo, hopefully to be released before too long, by Jonathan Guinness. The gauche attempts of an English land agent attempting to settle into a Welsh village in the 1950s, Mr Tim by Peter George and a story of the exactitude of flying expeditions in Going Tactical by Huw Baumgartner.

Thanks to the presence of partners and friends in the audience – all readers and lovers of books, who laughed, sighed and paid appropriate riotous appreciation of the feast of words laid before them, it was a local but sensational small gathering, much enjoyed by everyone.