When I Grow Up…

I don’t know where this came from, but the other day, I thought about all the different dreams and ambitions I’ve had over the course of my 27 years. Not counting those childhood dreams of being a ballerina, I think my first true goal in life came from my fascination with weather. At 8 years old, I distinctly remember wanting to be a meteorologist.

Funny, I know. How many eight-year-old kids have even heard of the word? Well, I was a bookish sort of kid (what a surprise, :P) and I wanted to know what you did if you grew up and studied weather. I believe it was my parents who told me and of course I devoured any book on weather. I even remember writing a picture book about it for a school project.

That dream lasted a few years until I realized I wasn’t quite the science type. I think around age 10 or 11 came my interest in history and in writing–both about the same time. I distinctly remember it was my obsession with the American Girl series and loving all the history that was packed into those 70 or 80 page books. Plus, my dad had always been a history and genealogy nut, so some of that rubbed off on me.

I wrote my first “novel” at age 12 about a girl in the 1840s who crossed the ocean with her family to settle in America. It was about 170 pages–front and back, mostly handwritten. The kids in school thought I was crazy for writing that much. I’m not sure I’ve met many sixth graders who have done that myself, so I probably was a little odd 🙂

Throughout junior high and high school, I would write. I never got past the first three chapters of anything until recently. Of course my love of history deepened and I became obsessed with watching documentaries–I still am that way–and part of me wanted to go to school for archeology. I still dream about that sometimes, going on a dig somewhere, brushing off centuries worth of dirt from a chipped piece of pottery.

But honestly, I think the desire to write has always been there, even when I was just learning how. I love to tell a story–my first one my mom transcribed because I just couldn’t spell yet–and that’s still a part of me.  I’ve still got a lot of “growing up” to do, though, in regards to writing. But I think writers always do; we’re always learning, always improving, always maturing in our work.

So, have you always had that desire to write? Were there other ambitions and passions you’ve had that are still a part of you now? 🙂

 

If Money Didn’t Matter…

If money didn’t matter and you could do any job in the world, what would you do?

I saw this question on Lisa and Laura’s post a few days ago about growing up. It got me thinking…

As much as I’d like to say writer, there’s something I would choose over that:

An archeologist 🙂

Not surprising though is it? I simply love history–it’s a passion of mine very close to writing (which is why I write historical fiction–perfect blend of both passions, right?). I’m such a documentary geek; I’m always searching for them on Hulu and YouTube as well as on Netflix. I will watch a riveting documentary on the discovery of an ancient discovery over my favorite movies any day.

I think that’s also why one of my favorite blogs to follow is author Michelle Moran’s (Cleopatra’s Daughter, The Heretic Queen, Nefertiti) History Buff. Basically, she posts links to fascinating history stories found in the news.

I don’t know how many hours I’ve spent there, reading the stories, then finding another link that leads me to another interesting story and so forth…and I don’t know how many hours I’ve spent daydreaming, thinking about traveling the world and helping on an archeological dig…

Anyway, I’d like to pose this question to you. 

If money didn’t matter and you could do any job in the world, what would you do?

If you’re like me and have two great passions–history and writing–or even more, that’s OK too 🙂 I’d really like to see your answers!

Overactive Imagination

You know, I once said that I never get story ideas from dreams. I hardly ever remember my dreams and if I do, they generally make no sense at all.

Last night was an exception. 😛

I had a very clear dream–one that even continued after I woke up and fell back asleep again (which NEVER happens). It was another historical based story, but this one was actually based in the States–I’m assuming so anyway since everyone was speaking English and acting “American.” I know it was set in the frontier times, probably very early though based off the clothing in the dream. I can distinctly see the main character–a woman in her late 20s/early 30s or so–and her younger, prettier and a little more shallow younger sister, who was probably 18 or so. There was also the main character’s love interest–a military captain of some sort (that’s all I can remember!). I sense a budding romance story…

Of course this one has to wait until Lady of the Snow is done. That’s my focus now 🙂

Still, I recorded what I could remember about the dream and added a little more ,like the setting–gonna make it where I live for once–the Ohio Valley region, sometime in the post Revolutionary War era and right around the time Ohio became a state, (1790s-1810ish) .  This one will be pure historical romance.

I’m betting that dream came from the fact hubby and I are going to the Fair at New Boston this weekend, which is an event where everyone dresses up in frontier clothing from the late 1700s and there’s all sorts of period-based booths, from weaving, to gunsmithing, to woodworking, to authentic food. I’ve never been but once I saw the ad on TV I knew I had to go! And I’m taking the camera!

So that probably had a lot to do with it. It’d be something if this dream actually turned to a full fledged novel idea in the future.

Dreams as Inspiration

I was wondering how many writers out there have actually used their dreams as inspiration.

I’ve had some pretty interesting and complex dreams that often I’ll be thinking (mid-dream!) “this would make for a great story!”

And then I wake up and it fades into the ether.

Some dreams affect me so profoundly that I’ll be in a daze most of the next day, trying to grasp that odd fragment from the night before and understand why I’m feeling so melancholy or incomplete. I may not be able to remember the details but something inevitably will stick with me and then I’m trying my best to figure out what it was.

I’ve tried having a notebook besides my bed to write down what I can remember from the night before, but I’m often so groggy that I don’t remember it’s there; by the time I do, the dream’s been lost.

Maybe if I tell myself over and over subconsiously to write whatever fragments down the moment I wake up, it’ll happen.

But then I wonder how coherent the notes will be for me later on when I review them 😛

Perhaps one day I’ll be able to grasp the elusive dream and not have to endure those feelings of disappointment the following day. 🙂

Unfulfilled Dreams

There once was a time, not so long ago, when I had a great desire to become an archeologist.

Of course, I didn’t pursue this path, but sometimes I wonder where I would be now if I did. I’ve always had a passion for history, especially ancient history, and I’m easily drawn in to the documentaries on ancient cultures on the History Channel or Discovery Channel (or I was…I don’t even have cable any more and I miss those shows dearly). I think history has been as much of a passion of mine as writing, and it’s probably the main reason why I write historical fiction.

Another dream of mine is the desire to travel. I would love to go to different places all over the world, or even the country for that matter. Of course, being a world traveller takes a great deal of money, which I don’t have, and my hubby doesn’t seem to share the same passion for it that I do. He has shared the desire to go to Japan someday, but honestly I doubt that will happen anytime in the next ten years, especially if kids come into the picture (which I can say now, is not a desire I have in life 😛 I think the mother gene is recessive in me or at least not as strong as it is in many women).

It’s interesting how life can take you down paths that you never expected or planned for yourself.

I’m still young though, so there’s a lot left to do in life (assuming I’m supposed to live to old age). Perhaps I’ll become a novelist like I’ve dreamed about for so many years. Who knows what all will change in the coming years and where I’ll be.

Anyway, my question is this: are there any dreams of yours that are unfulfilled?