Whenever I tell someone I’m writing fiction, they inevitably narrow their eyelids, as if trying to hide the amused bewilderment suddenly blossoming in their eyes and say to me rather quizzically, “Really?”——like I’ve declared I’m planning to hopscotch to the moon this year, and they don’t quite know how to respond to this new brand of lunacy of mine. The awkward silence that comes when they realize I am sincere is then followed up by a concerned, “Um, why?”
So, I’ve decided to dedicate one of my blogposts to explaining to y’all why I’ve embarked on this new venture, just to clear up any misgivings you might have about the next chapter in the ongoing saga of Monica’s Foolish Foibles.
Rational Reason #1: I started getting plots in my dreams at night a couple of years ago. Full complete plotlines from beginning to end arrive during lucid dreaming and I am fully aware (even though asleep) while this is happening. My sleeping brain has continued to function as a hard drive for story downloads from the universe up to the present time—even last night.
Rational Reason #2: Not completely sure what I was supposed to do with all these stories, I had nevertheless written down the entire plots upon waking. After a few months, I started getting the message from the divine via signs and synchronicities that “people heal through stories.” Thus, I presumed my job was to start writing out the plots as another way to help people heal.
Rational Reason #3: I’m starting to realize that these reasons are not looking very rational.
Irrational Reason #4: I had been wanting to scratch an itchier itch, to hike a steeper mountain, to dig a deeper well (lame metaphors, be gone!), beyond what writing non-fiction was able to get at. Writing non-fiction was playfully serious for me, but I needed the balance of something seriously playful. And I wanted to tap into that unique ability of the divine spark within: creatio ex nihilo.
Irrational Reason #5: What finally got me out of my wobbling to and fro like low-hanging earlobes (can you tie ‘em in a knot? can you tie ‘em in a bow?) was when I started pondering the wisdom of “beginning at the end.” This wisdom requires that you imagine your desired ending. My desired ending is simply: all is well. Think this through with me: What if everyone on the earth was well? What if all countries were peaceful? What if humanity had healed its relationship with Nature? What if no one was starving? No one was poor? No one was disease-ridden? What if human consciousness had evolved enough to achieve heaven on earth? Then, what—on earth—would we do with our time?
When I contemplated this again and again, the only things that came to me were: Play. Create. Learn. Enjoy.
When we begin at the end, we bring those wellness and wholeness vibrations into our present, no matter how far from wellness and wholeness our present circumstances might look at the time. By staying centered inside yourself now in the imagined feeling, thinking, and take-action vibrations you want to see achieved in the end, you start to help the lower vibrations of your circumstances move toward that desired end in order to match them.
This is easier said than done. But learning to stay calm in stormy waters creates the miraculous ability to say to the storm “Be calm” and all is calm, to say to the darkness, “Let there be light” and there is light.
Irrational Reason #6: And so I’m feeling and thinking and acting on those end vibrations by seriously playing and writing fiction in order to help bring forward a day when play and creativity and joy are our only agenda and poverty and ecocide and war are no more.
The short story, The Wizard’s Toy, is one of the plot downloads I received while dreaming. If you'd like to buy this e-book, click here. If you'd like to buy it but you don’t have a Kindle, you can download for free whatever Kindle-reader app you need for your phone, tablet, or computer from Amazon here. With this app you can buy and read any e-books on Amazon without a Kindle.