Happy Thoughts

Okay, so as y’all may or may not know, I have really weird, really detailed dreams.  Most of my dreams have plots, antagonists, and at times, they cant be stressful, dark, disturbing, or all of the above.  Case in point: https://jackiesmith114.wordpress.com/2014/09/23/in-dreams/

And: https://jackiesmith114.wordpress.com/2015/03/31/haunted-dreams/

Last night’s dream was probably one of the most disturbing I’ve ever had, and I realized as soon as I woke up that it wasn’t the first time I’d had it.  Or I guess I should say it wasn’t the first time I’d visited that place in my dream.  It’s so strange.  There have been times when my conscious mind can’t remember a dream, but my subconscious dream mind will.  In fact, in my dream last night, the person guiding me through reminded me, “You came here last year, remember?” And I did.

The people in my dream thought I would be interested in visiting this particular building because it was said to be one of the most haunted in the nation.  And it was.  I’m not going to tell you why though.  I could barely get the word out this morning when I called my mom to tell her about it.  I could tell early on that she was horrified that I’d dreamt something so dark, so gruesome, so I didn’t go into detail.  I gave her a one-sentence summary.  But the images and ideas have stayed with me all day.

That being said, I am doing my best today to think happy thoughts.  Like fall!  Pumpkins!  Music!  Parakeets!  Two of my best friends and I are going to be spending Halloween in Houston at the Texas Renaissance Festival, so that’s something fun to look forward to!  We’re going to go shopping for costumes next week.  I’m also puppy sitting for those same two friends this week, so that’s fun.  I haven’t had a puppy since I was two so I’m having a lot of fun with Glorious Dorian as we call him.

There’s not a whole lot new on the book front, except for some awesome new reviews for all three books and lots of new Instagram friends who have been so sweet and supportive in their reviews and pictures!

Focus

Hi, friends!

I haven’t been very good at keeping up with y’all.  Sorry about that.  I’ve seen two out-of-town friends this week and have been hiking and swimming and bowling despite my body telling me that it’s feeling sick and that I need to slow down a little bit and today… it just kind of crashed.

Still, I want to try and get some work done because I have been playing way too much for someone who wants to get two more books out by the end of this year.  Play is a wonderful thing, and I want to spend as much time with my out-of-town friends (and my in-town friends as well) as I can, but I do need to focus.  I can’t lose sight of my goals and what I want to accomplish.

Since I was little, I’ve always been a very goal-oriented person.  I’m like those mice in Who Moved My Cheese.  I have to be working toward something or else I just don’t know what i’m doing.  Right now, I’m working toward getting the next Cemetery Tours book written.  My goal is to have the first draft of the manuscript done by the end of the month so that I can get it to my editors and published by late September/early October.  Then, I hope to have the next Boy Band book out by December.  Overly ambitious?  Perhaps.  But if I don’t feel like the books are high-quality enough or worth publishing, then I won’t.

So yeah, getting those two books out by the end of the year are my short-term goals.  Lately, however, I’ve been thinking a lot about long-term goals.  It used to be those long-term goals that drove me, but lately life has been so busy that I’ve only had time to really think about the short-term.  And there’s nothing wrong with that.  It’s good to have both short and long-term goals.  Those long-term goals, I think, inspire short-term goals.  For example, my desire to succeed as an adult drove me to try my hardest in school.  Well, high school anyway.  By the time I got to college and grad school, I really just wanted to graduate.  Even then, however, my hopes and dreams for the future continued to drive me.

I know I’ve shared my Bucket List of things I’ve already done (https://jackiesmith114.wordpress.com/2013/08/17/extraordinary/).  I did that because, even though I think it’s wonderful and good to have dreams of the future, it’s also a good idea to acknowledge the good things that have already happened in life.  Counting your blessings, as it were.  However, I don’t think I’ve posted my actual Bucket List here, my dreams of what I hope my life will be.  Maybe I haven’t shared them because I’m afraid they won’t come true.  I’m not sure.  Whatever, the reason, these aren’t all of my goals, just a few of them.

1) Travel.  My dream destinations are: Australia, New Zealand, North Carolina, Alaska, back to Scotland, New England, London, and Paris.

2) Become a NYT bestselling author by the time I’m 30.

3) Renovate my parents’ house.

4) Do something good for homeless animals and endangered species around the world and work with a marine mammal/sea turtle rescue and rehabilitation center.

5) Own a beach house.

I have several other smaller specific ones, such as celebrate Halloween in Salem, Massachusetts and go see a movie at the drive-in (I can’t believe I still haven’t done that one).  But I think those five I listed are the ones I dream about the most.

What do y’all dream about?

Aspiring Authors

Recently, someone asked me what advice I would give to someone looking to turn their passion for writing into a career.  It’s a question that I myself asked after I wrote my first manuscript (which, by the way, will never ever see the light of day).  And you know, looking back, I’m glad I asked it as often as I did, because I would never have gotten as far as I have without hands reaching out to help guide me.  I’d imagine that goes for any career you might pursue.

As far as writing goes, however, here are my top tips for aspiring authors.

1.  Write.

It’s so cliche, right?  But it’s true.  You can’t be a writer if you don’t write.  It’s wonderful to have dreams.  Careers are built on dreams, especially dreams in the arts.  But in order to publish that book, you must first write that book.  Then you’re probably going to rewrite the book.  Then you’re going to send that book off to an editor who will have you revise that book about a hundred times over.  Writing is essential.  And when you’re not writing, you probably should be writing.

2. Make Connections.

Authors are incredibly supportive of other authors and of aspiring authors.  We know what you’re going through.  We know what you’re hoping for.  We know what it’s like to be you, and guess what?  We want you to succeed just as much as you do.  That’s something I love most about the writer community.  These people are the most supportive and encouraging group I’ve ever met, and I’m proud to be one of them.  I just hope that I make them proud.  I hope I help and encourage and support as much as they’ve helped and encouraged and supported me over the years.

3. Do Your Research.

Before I published Cemetery Tours, I was in the library every other week learning everything I could about independent publishing and how to succeed as a writer.  As great as it was to have mentors to offer me advice, I ultimately had to make all the big decisions for myself, because what works for one writer will not always work for another.  It was also easier for me to learn that way.  As an author, you’re going to have dozens of options and dozens of choices to make, and at the end of the day, no one else can make them for you.  Only you know what’s going to work best for you and for your book.

4.  Don’t Get Discouraged.

This is a long and difficult road that you’ve chosen.  You aren’t going to see results overnight (unless you’re JK Rowling).  It takes a lot of time and patience.  It also takes endurance.  More likely than not, you’re going to have at least one person tell you that you’re wasting your time.  They’re going to say, “You want to be a writer, that’s great, but you’re never going to make money that way.  What do you actually want to do for a job?”  But I promise you, for every person who doesn’t believe in you, there are about a hundred out there who do, and they’re the ones you need to keep by your side.  They’re the ones you need to listen to.  Believe in yourself and believe in your writing.  Don’t let anyone ever convince you that your work isn’t worth it, because it is.  You are worth it.  This is the one life you get.  You might as well spend it doing something you love.  I’ve always thought that I’d rather fail at something I love, than succeed at something I don’t care about at all.  At least I’d know that I’d tried.

5. Know Your Resources.

There are so many sites out there for aspiring authors and professionals in general.  A few I that recommend are:

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com

Bowker: https://www.myidentifiers.com

Author Rise: https://www.authorrise.com

The Ladders: https://www.theladders.com/careers/search

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com

IndieBound: http://www.indiebound.org

Haunted Dreams

I’ve always had incredibly vivd dreams.  My mom always says it’s because of my active writer’s imagination. I guess that’s it, because I know better than to eat anything right before I go to bed.  Some of these dreams are a lot of fun, some are incredibly stressful, and some are just downright creepy.  Last night, I had one of the creepy ones.

It began with a friend of mine (in my dream only.  I don’t actually know this girl.  I don’t even remember her name) telling me that she and her fiancé were going to stay in this old, historic bed and breakfast and that she was terrified.  She said that they’d stayed there before and that she had been terrorized by what she thought was a demon in her room.

Now, it just so happens that in my dream, I was dating Zak Bagans (the lead investigator of Ghost Adventures… Who, you know, I honestly wouldn’t mind dating… He’s kind of hot… Anyway, I’m guessing this was all in my head because I was working on Cemetery Tours 3 last night till like, five in the morning).  Together, we agreed that we would go spend the night in this bed and breakfast to see if we could find out exactly what was going on.

The bed and breakfast itself was really cool and really creepy.  We were staying on the second or third floor, and it had old, fancy burgundy rugs lining the hallway and that overall sensation of a building that has stood for a very long time and has kept more secrets than most of us living can remember. My friend asked if she could spend the night in my room.  Honestly, I didn’t really want her to because I’m really scared of the idea of demonic entities, but I agreed anyway.

I had packed a crucifix, so I made sure to set that on the night stand as we were preparing for bed.  I said a couple of prayers, hoping they would protect the room and keep any unwanted spirits out.  But my friend was still in a panic.  She was convinced that this spirit was going to come for her just as soon as the lights went out.  I tried to comfort her, saying that the building was old, it made a lot of creaking noises, the foundation shifted…  It could very well all be in her mind.  But she wasn’t convinced.

Finally, we turned out the lights and settled into bed.  I was a little nervous, but I kept reminding myself that I grew up in a haunted house (it’s true) and that I’d always been able to sleep just fine.  But then, I heard footsteps walking across the room.  I glanced up and saw the reflection of a man’s silhouette on the television screen.  At first, I really thought it was my friend’s fiancé, so I sat up and looked around and realized that we were still alone.

Freaked out, I ran out into the hallway (yes, I totally abandoned my friend) and looked around for a sign of anyone who could have been the source of those footsteps.  There was no one.  However, as I was standing alone in the hall, some invisible presence rushed up behind me and growled in my ear.  I screamed bloody murder and ran down the hall to Zak’s room (wow, this is beginning to sound an awful lot like a fanfiction).  By the way, I have no idea why he left us girls alone to fight off a demon all by ourselves.  What a terrible boyfriend.

Anyway, I woke him up and told him about what had happened.  He went out into the hall to investigate while I stayed in his room like the scaredy-cat that I totally am.  Meanwhile, my friend joined me and I apologized for leaving her, but we both agreed we were not going back to that room.

Moments later, her fiancé came to get us.  He said that they’d discovered a loose panel in the wall outside of our bedroom.  My friend and I anxiously tip-toed back down the hall to where Zak and he had plied the panel off to reveal an old, dusty, wooden coffin.  It was disgusting and horrific, but I was totally intrigued.  No wonder that room was so haunted.  I told them that we should probably call the police or the manager or something before we went tearing into this creepy wooden box, but of course, no one listened to me.  Even in my own dream, I can’t make people listen to me.

They opened up the box to reveal, not the corpse of a person, but of a mangled, hairy beast, with the body of a jackal and the head of a boar.  I know where that came from.  In The Omen, Damian, the devil’s son, is born from the womb of a jackal.  By that point, I was absolutely done with everything having to do with that bed and breakfast.  I begged them not to mess with the body, to just leave it there and let professionals come in and deal with it, but again, no one listened to me.

The dream ended with the body being destroyed and the four of us hoping that would be the end of it.  But right before I woke up, my friend found a note scribbled on an old piece of parchment.  All the note said was, Don’t you remember me?

So yeah, that was my dream last night.  Creepy as all hell.  But it left me totally inspired to keep working on Cemetery Tours 3, so that’s a good thing.

In other news, in the midst of editing horse pictures and playing outside, I’ve totally been overlooking all the work I really need to be doing.  For example, I need to revise my short story for the Lurking in the Deep anthology (Cover release on April 2!!!).  I still have an interview with Luke Rainer to write.  I have a friend’s book to edit.  Not to mention, it’s almost April!  Boy Band will be released in less than a month!  In like, 22 days!  I’m so excited!  But I need to get a few more teasers out and get to work formatting the eBooks.  It will all happen.  I just need to get organized.  Make a list.  That’s always my go-to strategy.  Make a to-do list.

That being said, I should probably go get started.  Happy Tuesday, everyone!

Dreams

I have weird dreams.  I always have.

When I was five, I had a dream that a giant macaroni noodle monster with purple spots was chasing me around the mall at Christmastime.  It eventually followed me back to my house, jumped out at me, and I woke up screaming.

A few years ago, I dreamt that my high school class took a field trip to a train amusement park.  All the rides were trains, you moved around the park on a train, you stayed in a train, it was kind of neat.  Then I woke up and completely forgot about the dream.  Until about a year later, that is, when I dreamt I was showing my best friend around the same train amusement park and telling her all about my high school trip to that same place.  That was strange.  How did my subconscious remember what my conscious mind had forgotten?

What really weirds me out is when I can feel what’s happening to me in my dreams.  For example, I’ve had several dreams about tornadoes.  Even though I’ve never experienced a tornado personally, I can always feel the pressure in my head and my ears whenever one is around in my dreams.  Another time, I dreamt I was shot in the back and I could actually feel my lungs filling up with blood.  I’m not sure what was going on there.  Just the other night, I dreamt that I was dying of cancer (probably because I’d been up late rereading The Fault in Our Stars).  Death, in that dream, was actually a very peaceful process.  Hazy and grey and relaxing.  I could feel my loved ones around me and I remember whispering, “Wait for me.”

Last night was probably one of my weirdest dreams of all.  It started off in the house of someone I’d known in college.  Then there were dinosaurs.  Then aliens.  Then an escaped serial killer.  Then a satanic ritualist.  Then zombies.  It was pretty much everything that scares me in one horrifying dream.  On top of all of that, I had no idea where my camera was.  Then, at one point I had to search all over for something to kill zombies with because they were marching down the street, and the best I could come up with was a bowling ball.  I don’t think I’m what you’d call Zombie Apocalypse Material.

One day, I think I’m just going to sit down and rewrite every dream I can remember.  There’d be a lot.  I can’t tell you about the scariest dream I’ve ever had, because I actually managed to rewrite it into Between Worlds, but after it’s released, I’ll be able to tell you.  It’s one that I’m certain I will never forget.

What’s been your weirdest or creepiest dream?

 

The Wind Chime House

One of the coolest dreams I ever had was about a brick house on a hill.  It was around dusk and I was seeking refuge, from what I don’t remember.  I just knew it would be the perfect place to seek shelter.

It was a very modern house with large windows of every shape and a red shingled roof.  Inside, immediately to the right was a large spiraling staircase that stretched for several stories.  There, in the center of the staircase hung the first wind chime.  It was the largest wind chime in the house, at least fifty or sixty feet.  Silver chimes hung in a circle and in the center of the chimes hung a stunning crystal the size of a bowling ball that cast rainbows on every wall.

To the left of the staircase was the living area.  A fireplace and mantle sat across the room, facing the front wall.  Statues of faeries, dragons, and other mythical creatures sat on the mantle beneath a giant ceramic clock.  The tiles of the clock were mostly several shades of yellow that formed a Celtic sun with blue and green background designs.  Several wind chimes, ranging in size from a few inches to several feet long, hung from the ceiling.  The one I remember the most hung right next to the window.  It’s longest scarlet chimes were at least four feet long.  Another wind chime was made of purple and silver spirals.  Bronze butterflies made up the chimes of another.  Sunbeams poured through the open windows, casting a faint glow on everything it touched, and even though there was no wind, the chimes sang in perfect pitch.  Everywhere I turned, wind chimes of every size, shape, and color.

I can only guess my mind modeled the Wind Chime House after this wind chime building at Scarborough Faire.  One day, I’d really like to write a story about it.

I love my dreams.  Well, most of them.  Some of them are actually really disturbing, but ones like The Wind Chime House make it all worth it.  One of my goals in life is to master the art of lucid dreaming.  Although I’m not there yet, I’ve gotten better at saving myself from unpleasant situations.  Several of my nightmares involve a highway that is hundreds of thousands of feet in the air and I always end up driving off of it.  It’s usually about that time when I think to myself, “I don’t want to be here anymore,” and the dream changes.  Last night, I had an extraordinarily creepy dream, even for me.  I dreamt that my entire arm was covered in spiders and they were biting me over and over again.  Now, I’m not scared of spiders (usually), but there were so many of them and they were so gross and they kept biting me and it actually really hurt, so I thought to myself, “Okay, time to go back,” and I immediately transported to a different dream.  However, my arm and hand were still bright red and stinging from all the spider bites.  How weird and how cool is that?  That we can feel pain from something that isn’t even there?

I’ve managed to lucid dream a couple of times.  Apparently, I’m not very ambitious, because every time I figure out that I’m dreaming and that I can literally do anything, all I ever want to do is fly.  I fly everywhere.  I even once stopped to gloat at a little kid in my dream that I could fly and she couldn’t.  Wow, way to be a jerk, dream self.  The one time I ever did anything other than fly was plan out a romantic date night with Ben Barnes (aka Prince Caspian from Narnia), but the moment he showed up, I sent him away to change shirts and I woke up before he came back!

WHAT THE HECK, BRAIN?!  Why would you DO that?!  You get Ben Barnes, you KEEP HIM!  You don’t just dismiss him because he’s wearing the wrong shirt!!!

I was so mad when I woke up from that one.  It was also the last time I effectively lucid dreamed.  I’m hoping that the fact that I can somewhat control the bad stuff in my dreams means I’m getting closer to achieving overall lucidness.

There have also been moments in dreams where my dream self will remember dreams that I’d had months earlier, that my conscious self had forgotten.  Those are weird.  My most recent one I had, I was at this train-themed amusement part with my best friend.  We were on the train that you had to take to get there and I was showing her around and telling her about the trip that my high school class and I had taken on that same train to that same amusement park.  I’d had that dream about my class at least six months or so earlier and I hadn’t thought about it or remembered it until I woke up the next morning.  It’s almost like existing in two separate worlds.  My conscious self remembers what goes on during the day, my dream self remembers what goes on at night.

I’ve also had dreams where, honestly, I don’t know what I’m thinking.  Well actually yes, I know exactly what I’m thinking, and it pretty much just proves what a truly um… terrible and paranoid individual I am.  I think I’ve already shared the stories of whenever I dream about zombies, I lock myself away in the safest room and leave everyone else (including my blind friend) to fend for themselves.

I’ve also had dreams where I’m about to undergo surgery to have one of my legs amputated.  Oddly enough, I never care that I’m about to lose a leg.  I do care, however, that I have to be put under anesthesia and if there is one thing I hate in this world, it is going under anesthesia.  I’ve only been under once and it was like waking up from being hit by a truck.  It was the worst feeling ever.  I couldn’t focus on anything, everything had a fuzzy white boarder around it, and I had nausea radiating to my kneecaps.  I.  Do.  Not.  Like.  Anesthesia.  As it turns out, my dream self hates it just as much as my conscious  self because it’s all I can talk about to my doctors.

“Now, are you sure you gave me the anti-nausea stuff?  Because I hate anesthesia.  I always feel so sick after.  Remember, I want that medicine.  Please, please don’t forget it.  Will you just like, inject it into my IV or something?  Can you give me a high dose?  I really don’t want to be nauseated.”

Seriously, I might actually be a crazy person.

There are a few of my more disturbing dreams (AKA the ones involving bodies and moldy caskets and demonic cemeteries) that I’ve actually incorporated into Cemetery Tours and its sequel.  I’ll probably write a post about them someday, because they’re actually pretty good and really creepy.

However, I really wanted to end this post on a bright and happy note.  Now, I know leg amputations aren’t exactly bright and happy.  That’s why I’m including some more photography, of flowers that remind me of my prettier, more lighthearted dreams.

Enjoy, everyone!  Talk to you tomorrow.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

All photographs Copyright Jacqueline E. Smith EXCEPT the one of Ben Barnes.  Sadly, I do not know him.