Naps are good. I love them. Usually I love them because I get a few more hours of sleep in the day, and nothing feels better than curling up on my bed, in the sunlight, and dozing off for an hour or so.
But sometimes naps provide inspiration via dreams.
Or so I’ve been told. It’s never really happened to me unless you consider a dream of me making out with Jeff Tweedy inspirational (and in a way, it is inspirational, but also hugely disappointing once I awake).
But then something happened the other day. I was taking a nap–a really short nap, I think I had only been asleep for about 20 minutes–when an idea came to me. A good idea. An inspiration.
Well, that’s not entirely true. For a few days I had all these ideas in my head–from President Obama’s State of the Union address to a student commenting on the un-importance of writing due to SIRI to a fan letter I sent–but they were just ideas, things I was thinking about, but during my nap, it all came together: an idea, a creative endeavor.
I’m going to write a book. Non-fiction.Concerning writing and reading.
Sounds boring, doesn’t it?
But it won’t be. In my nap state, everything came together with such clarity. I knew how I wanted to write it, how I wanted it to look, and the overall purpose of it.
The feeling was exhilarating.
But then came the logistics: while I know I can write this, I also know that I’m going to need help, probably from an agent or a publishing group. And not necessarily in terms of money, but more in the ways of making connections. So, I thought. And thought. And thought. And I came to realize:
I am nobody. It’s true. I have no real ethos for this kind of endeavor, except for a few articles I’ve written and a book that I myself have termed “incredibly shitty.” What I do have is passion and a deeply rooted sense that I can do this. But I doubt I can sell myself on this alone.
So I thought. And thought some more. And I realized:
I am somebody. And I believe in myself and this project. I can do this if I set my mind to it.
And I thought and thought some more and realized that I’m going to need a few chapters written before I start pitching my idea and trying to sell myself as a writer. So I called some friends, and they believed in me, and helped me see the connections I already do have.
So, here I go. An idea I believe in. A hope that some friends can connect me to a few important people. Some time to write a few great chapters. An overwhelming sense of fear that I’ve just added one more thing to my already busy life, but a feeling that it’ll be worth it in the end.
Because I care about the arts and I feel creative and I want to encourage creativity, and for the first time in my life, I really believe in myself and my ability.
Wish me luck.