Last night I had a dream that Betsy Lerner recruited me to join a baseball team of wannabe writers she was putting together. The team was called Midlife Crisis. A few of us were huddled around a small student desk in a ratty classroom trying to decide what position we should play and tossing around ideas for uniform colors. That’s it. I woke up feeling anxious and needing to pee.
Pretty weird, right? In my defense, the heat here on the East Coast is disintegrating my brain cells and to counteract I had a big bowl of Rhode Island Lighthouse Coffee Ice Cream smothered in butterscotch sauce before going to bed. So bad for me on so many levels but again in my defense I do live in Rhode Island and I am a big fan of lighthouses.
But back to the dream. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be recruited by Betsy Lerner to do something – to do anything? I don’t stalk her but that’s just because I’m lazy. As for baseball, I would suck at this, which is (duh) my fear about writing. Don’t get me wrong, I know all the rules – my father was a Little League coach throughout my entire childhood and while girls couldn’t play at the time (dating myself here) I attended almost every game dragging along a cooler full of sodas for the boys, memorizing my father’s bizarre hand signals, and keeping up a steady banter of He’s a wiffer, Good hustle, and Battabattabatta. Then I went to college and lived in Red Sox Nation for years and now I’m married to a Yankees fan. And while watching baseball on TV makes fuzz grow on my teeth, I love the sound of a game as background noise on a hot summer’s day while I’m reading a book and drinking mint infused iced tea. So I know baseball. But could I actually play baseball? Never. Just like I know writing, but can I actually write? How obvious can this dream get?!
As for the name of our team, that’s another big duh. Might as well stamp that on my forehead. I think the fact that we were in a classroom and not at a ball field is pretty telling – I often think I should have gone for that ubiquitous MFA but I was always too chicken shit. And my dream job, my dream life actually, would be to write and to teach writing. As for the discussion about uniform colors, well, I guess a girl has to look good no matter what she does.
So there it is, my writing dream. Not exactly earth shattering but at least it got me up an writing this morning. How about you? Had any writing dreams lately?