10 November 2008

Dream of the Big Cats

I've never written a shifter story. I do have one on deck that is set in a fantasy world. Which suits me just fine as most of the shifter tales (or is it tails) I've read are in contemporary settings and have crossed lines into the romantice suspense genre. (And by the way, those are some of my favs to read!) but I don't like following the pack..er..a pride. So, fantasy it is.

I don't know why I've never gone over to the furry side with my books. I enjoy a good shifter story, I'm just usually engaged in crafting stories having to do with some kind of psychic phenomenon more so than physical ones. So why then do I often dream of big powerful felines - fangus scariotis .

And that leads me to this topic. Cats. You know the ones. Big teeth. Fierce growl. Bite your head off variety. Now, I can't say for sure if my dream this morning had more to do with the breakfast melt I ate before laying down to sleep after a long and hectic night shift, or my love of the majestic animals. All I can say is that a huge tiger appeared in my dream and proceeded to battle a grizzly bear bent on ripping my face off. Thanks to my striped guardian, I woke to find my face intact, but heart beating out of my chest. Why did I have such a bizarre dream? What did that bear have against me? I bode no ill will to the bear populace. As a matter of fact, I think they're pretty cool. I'm not one to think that such powerful, albeit strange, dreams are given to us to forget. No, they're a gift we have to figure out what to do with. And me, being me I have to see how the Battle of the Paws could translate into fodder for a novel or novella.

I'm thinking to make it even more interesting and outragous, it should be steam punk. Kind of like The Island of Dr. Morou meets The Golden Compass. The bear is naturally the villian since he wanted to play WWF smackdown with me- the tiger the hero. The lovely heroine is caught between them. The mad genius of her past whom she was once engaged, versus the noble and gentle lover she met by chance - but whom remains a great mystery. And no wonder, he's part of an underground cadre protecting her majesty's interests abroad. (I'm thinking a twisted version of the Victorian Era).

And now the ideas are cascading through my brain. I can't wait to write them down.

Moral of the story here - listen to your dreams. And if a big goregous golden eyed tiger saves you in a dream, thank him by turning him into a hero.

I'll keep you posted on where the story goes.

What kind of odd ideas have you gotten from dreams?


(Beautiful painting is by Thomas Canty)
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