Night Phlox

My foolish dreams


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We all have foolish dreams; yet few of us ever admit to them. They may be too personal, too unconvential or just implausible. When we were children didn’t we all want to become A. Pop stars, B. Sports stars, C. Spacemen or D. Princesses? With age comes the realisation that things are not as simple as they seem, and our dreams shrink into nothingness; a mere ‘what-if’ lodged away in our brains: what if I was a princess? What if I could fly?

Ambition and imagination are all that remain of our childhood dreams. We might use these in our work, to innovate, but rarely do they astound as our five-year old selves might have wanted.

When I was five, I wanted to win a gold medal at the Olympics. The next year, I wanted to be a Blue Peter presenter, then a nurse, then a TV presenter again, then a journalist, then an author. That last one stuck through a good number of years, right into my early-teens when I began to feel straitjacketed by the monotony of high-school education. The only respites were a few art lessons, along with the tiny amount of creative writing that was sprinkled into our English classes, yet even this was spoilt by an uncaring teacher who didn’t know the difference between the Netherlands and neanderthals. My dreams were scoffed at, and I never dared voice them again.

The years trickled on, my confidence steadily returning. When I was about sixteen I told a friend that I wished I could become an author. With his encouragement, I began to write again, as did he. It was perfect – swapping chapters via email every few weeks and providing each other with useful feedback. I was suddenly interested in books again, and started to consume the written word as I had as a child – voraciously. I renewed my interest in RPGs, gobbling up more storylines, and even tried to draw again (albeit unsuccessfully).

The novel that I started to write when I was 16 is now over 200 pages long. I know that it is far from the standard that publishers demand, yet it is still my dream to see it on a bookshelf somewhere. Foolish, certainly. But I can dream.


Written by Freya

Monday 25th April 2011 at 6:52 pm

Posted in Misc

Tagged with , , ,

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