From one dreamer to another, a great post. Right now, my mom is having trouble separating dreams from reality. It is sad as she sometimes dreams one of us has died and she gets very upset. Then she dreams she won a pile of money and is very happy. I hope this is just a phase. I also dream very vividly, usually just fun stuff but occasionally scary stuff creeps in. I usually entertain Paul with my funny dreams in the morning.

I have long and detailed dreams too. In color. I remember many of them for years.

Love your teapot brothel dream! Do you remember any of the suite names? My most recurring dream is the one where I didn’t study for a test or I totally forgot about a meeting and I keep struggling to make it right.

Great post. I have very colourful and varied dreams. I sometimes use the ideas in my writing!

Love this post. Geoff and I both remember our dreams. They are often crazy dreams for both of us. I can’t even write down what my last one was (Saturday night) – it was TOO weird! Years ago, long before Geoff, I was involved with a guy and I often had dreams where a tidal wave was coming and I was trying to get away from it (drowning is a fear of mine). I finally realized that this dream was allowing me work out stuff and once I broke up with him, the dreams stopped! Cool, huh?

I don’t remember my dreams all that often. But when I do, I can typically trace them back to worries, thoughts or something I’ve read/heard/seen.

Now you…you are dreaming the stuff of fiction. Or at least it seems that way to me.

I remember my dreams on occasion and sometimes they stop me cold. On occasion I’ll dream about my Mom, which always makes me sad/happy at the same time.

Oh goodness, I too am a vivid dreamer. And some of my dreams are downright crazy! But I can honestly say I’ve never dreamed about a teapot brothel!!- ha! Yet others seem so very real; however, I don’t dream scary ones very often at all, for which I’m grateful. My hubby, on the other hand, never remembers his dreams, but he surely does get entertained by mine when I relate them to him.

All through June and July of last year I kept having the same dream about turning up at my parent’s home on a very dark night. In the dream, I knew I must not disturb my parents (it was always thus when I lived at home). I parked my car some distance from the house and picked my way down the muddy track that runs along the side of a farm. I let myself in with the key that was always kept in the porch and went through the house and up the stairs in the pitch black. I knew my parents were asleep, so I didn’t turn on any lights until I was in my old bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it always had.
My parents died more than thirty years ago, but the dream worried me and in August when my husband asked what I would like to do on my birthday, I told him about the dream and said I would really like to go and take a look at my parents old house. It is quite a journey, but we set off early, had a nice lunch on the way and arrived in the afternoon. The village and the farm are exactly as I remember them but when we got to where my parent’s house stood – there is nothing – just a mark in the grass where the path once ran and the old rusty gate half-hidden in a newly planted hedge. We spoke to a neighbour, who said a new house is going to be built there as soon as the owners of the land get planning permission.
I was very upset and took lots of photos which I sent to my son in Australia. He rang and said not to worry mum we all have wonderful memories of times spent there, and Nanny and Granddad will not be forgotten. The dream has not returned so I can only surmise my parents wanted someone to know the house had gone.

I usually have vivid dreams about once a week. They are usually good dreams and involve my kids or my students from school. But I do have a recurring dream about something bad happening to me and being physically unable to dial 911. I have my phone and try to dial, but keep typing in the wrong number. Or I call and am not able to talk. Hopefully that isn’t a sign of things to come!

Well…recently I was debating whether to enter a short story contest in which I have, in the past, failed to spin off satisfactory short stories from the novel whose writing I’d like to use the prize money to fund. No spin-off plots came to mind. (The novel is “speculative” enough for the contest, but when I’ve written short stories I liked they’ve been fleshed out from real-world anecdotes, not “speculative.”)

So…the novel is “speculative” in the sense that it speculates about how the world would be different if people approached technology in a mindful, selective way. The contest rules specified that horror stories count as “speculative.” I didn’t have a horror story in mind.

Then I woke up from a dream that featured vivid, loosely connected visual images. I forgot most of them after that morning, but remember that one of them, possibly number 2 of 10, featured a cat (not one of mine) who’d been run over, both hind legs completely separated from its body, and then another one, possibly number 7 of 10, featured a similar-looking cat, alive and walking on all four legs. Brain-garbage, probably random low-interest memories popping up out of sequence.

Later in the day, I was walking home in the rain, a big rig slowed down briefly and then quickly reaccelerated past me, and I thought, “Noticed that I’m not a hooker, so would not care if I were *his very own* grandmother…” and the plot of a Mountain Witch Tale started to pop into my head, where the trucker *is* dumb enough to hope a black-haired middle-aged lady might be a hooker, and little does he know that she’s a Mountain Witch who will seriously mess with his mind. (I had invented this character during a discussion at the Ozarque blog many years ago, outlined, and decided not to write a whole novella or short novel about her.) Does she *really* heal the run-over cat? Whose fault is the smash-up of his truck? Could she really have “sacrificed” him to the spirit of the next mountain over, or *did* she, and what would the “sacrifice” have entailed? He’ll never really know…

Anyway, the story started out with two random images from a dream.

Funny story! Great post.
I’ve always found myself a bit jealous of people who dreamt a lot. I very rarely do. And even when I do, after a while I’m not sure that it really happened. But I do get a lot of deja-vus maybe ’cause I have similar situations in the dreams I don’t remember. Funny thing dreaming, isn’t it?