The Writer and Her Subconscious​

This morning I woke up writing. I was half asleep with the idea that I was at my desk typing out The Dreamer. I was halfway through writing it out when I realized I was sitting on the edge of my bed attempting to find my glasses.
Once I got myself together; dressed, glasses on, and alarm shut off. I wobbled to my computer to actually write it. I don’t recall what I was dreaming about, but I knew that I had to write a letter to my dreams. I hit snooze for my first alarm. And that’s when my subconscious started writing. It was around my third time pressing snooze that I sat up. Around fourth or fifth alarm when it clicked that I wasn’t at my computer.

My sister, who was a delight and made me breakfast, watched as I sleepily poured myself a coffee with far to much honey and plopped myself in front of my computer to type out this letter.

There’s something about writing what the subconscious wants you to. I know I am missing fragments that would have made it better. There was this thing about the clouds and how the dreams would type the story onto the computer or save as a video for me to rewrite later. I can’t remember. It’s lost in that realm of sleep that stores all the hopes and wonder that is buried within my brain. I hope that the longer I write, the more I write, I might be able to unlock that hidden world.

If I only had the key.

C.B. Dixon

Wicked Soul Ascension Book One


The Dreamer

Dear Dreams,

Thank you for all the great adventures we’ve been having lately. I especially loved the one where we fought zombies while riding on dragons back. And then that time we got lost in a haunted labyrinth was pretty epic.

I have one thing to ask of you. Please, write your stories down. I will even leave my laptop open on the bedside table so you don’t have to reach far. I can leave the word program open. It would be nice.
I only ask this because you seem to remove most of the memory of the journey we endure together. I can’t remember how they start or end. The feeling of, what a trip! Vibrates under my skin all morning.

Your Dearest Friend,
The Dreamer
C.B. Dixon

Ps. The world would love to go on the same adventures you put me on. All you have to do is write them out.