Dreams are the focal point for most of my stories. The four books in The Watchers Series are based on a young man who can leave his body and go anywhere in his dreams—astral travel. Sway is about a man confronting his tormented past through a recurring nightmare. Until Then Dream Again is about a man who has fallen in love with a woman who only exists in his dreams.
I’ve been asked over and over by fans, friends, and family what I find so romantic or interesting about dreams that I would base so much of my work on them. For me, it seems strange to ask the question at all. What is there about dreams that isn’t interesting?
So little is known about dreams. They are one of life’s greatest mysteries. We have them and don’t know why—not really. What we do know is more theory than fact, and because of that, they possess an innate romanticism. We remember some dreams, yet we forget other dreams. Why? Why isn’t always the same? We do the impossible in dreams. We see people we haven’t seen in years, people who are no longer alive, people we don’t know at all—how do we know, really know, if what we do, where we go, and who we see in dreams isn’t real on some level? We don’t. But because the mere idea that it could be is so ludicrous, once we open our eyes, we push the possibility from our minds—and call it impossible.
Just because we don’t understand something, or haven’t figured it out yet, doesn’t mean it’s impossible.
I suppose, on a more mundane side of it, I write about dreams simply because I like the unknown. I enjoy the fantastic. I don’t like to watch reality TV. I don’t like to watch shows like CSI or Grey’s Anatomy. I like Stranger Things, Lost, Travelers—anything that isn’t rooted in the mundane. I can get that simply by walking out my front door. I don’t want a story about something that can happen to anyone. I want one that makes me consider the impossible.