Thoughts of what could be an essay come often, but if I don’t get to write it down, even if I repeat it in my head a few times, it disappears.
Writing is like dreaming. A dream has to be remembered right away or it gets lost in the hours of the day leaving only a feel behind that can not be captured in words.
Dreamers are allowed to dream of anything. The wildest, most irrational, and outrageous of dreams are normal; strange, but normal and are seldom questioned. Writing does not always share the same favor.
I find myself sometimes guilty of assuming that what I read must always mirror the lives of the authors.
“Everything Okay?” I ask my friend, an experienced published writer who writes about a large variety of topics. “Yes, why do you ask?”
I ask because I am making assumptions that I shouldn’t make. Dreams are not questioned; I should not question their writing. If writing always mirrored their current lives, it would be limited and predictable, and it would lose my interest quickly. I like diversity and I seek that in the writers I choose to read.
Assumptions and expectations can not stop nor change dreams, but they can curtail freedom of expression in a writer. Not all dreams are worth telling; not all ideas are worth writing, but neither should be questioned.