Hello! Here I am with the Nightmares and Obsessions chapter of Dreams and Inward Journeys, squeaking in at the last week of the month, and is that because I am taking my time and giving myself space to get things done offline, or is it because I was avoiding a chapter called NIGHTMARES? Both, probably.
If you’re just joining us, we’re making our way through a college creative writing textbook called Dreams and Inward Journeys. The previous posts are here, and of course you can go through all of them, or you can start right now with Chapter 5.
We’re continuing the thread of looking at dreams and how they spark creativity, but this month is all about NIGHTMARES (I promise I won’t put it in all caps every time, but I do keep wanting to shout it). Specifically— nightmares: why? Why do we have nightmares? Why is something a nightmare for one person and not for someone else? We’re also talking about OBSESSIONS (I’m still shouting) which are indeed extremely nightmare-adjacent in a way I hadn’t contemplated before. Why do we get obsessed with something, and when does it turn unhealthy? And how can we use all this in our creative lives?
Obsession is difficult in real life, but it can be interesting (and voyeuristically relatable) in fiction. Often the stories of nightmares and obsessions are the ones that stick with me. I have a sense of “I wonder if that could happen to me?” The readings in this chapter got me thinking about how I can give my characters weird things to be obsessed with, and how that might affect the stories.
I have talked before about how I am not a fan of horror. I find I can’t get the residue of it off of me, and I lie awake thinking about everything. Two of my kids are horror fans, and, because of the way we have set up our Saturday movie night, I end up watching some horror movies. Sometimes they’re not as bad as I think they will be. Sometimes they’re much worse.
What’s interesting to me is that everyone has a nightmare scenario, and they all might be so different. And it’s this fascinating thing to me, how someone else can calmly watch a scary movie without hiding behind a throw blanket like I do. But then, I love being on a stage and talking into a microphone, and I know that’s a nightmare for some people.
A scary story can be a way to process fears. Being aware of what we’re afraid of, and then moving through that fear, is a way to grow.
I think it’s ok if I don’t want to watch someone getting killed in a gory way on my TV screen. But if I’m afraid to write a story because I know it’s going to challenge me, then that’s a fear I should work through.
Dreams and Inward Journeys says this:
“Your thinking about the dreams and nightmares portrayed in the stories, poems, and essays in this chapter may diminish some of their power to frighten and may help you to see such experiences in perspective, as reflections of archetypical patterns of human development and as potential sources of creative inspiration, transformation, and psychological growth.”
Sounds good to me! As a scaredy-cat, I am willing to diminish the power of the scary things while also getting creative inspiration. Let’s go!
The readings:
W. S. Merwin, “Foghorn”
Franklin Galvin and Ernest Hartmann, “Nightmares: Terrors of the Night”
Mary Shelley, Introduction to Frankenstein
Cynthia Ozick, “On Excellence”
Charlotte Perkins Gilman, “The Yellow Wallpaper”
Yukio Mishima, “Swaddling Clothes”
John Cheever, “The Enormous Radio”
Sandra Gilbert, “Getting Fired, or, ‘Not Being Retained’” (on page 22 of the pdf linked)
The assignments:
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